32

Sebastian trained with General Zaniolo for hours a day. To avoid the ogling of the men, they practiced in Zaniolo’s spacious quarters. Sebastian was grateful for that, because after five days, he was only marginally better at executing the sweeping steps of the popular dances of Izmorozian society. Sebastian didn’t blame the general, of course. He had always been clumsy, a failing that his sister had never passed up an opportunity to ridicule when they were children.

Now he recalled some of those embarrassing childhood memories as he sat next to Commander Vittorio in the carriage that conveyed them to the engagement ball. Amid the ebb and flow of his anxiety, he was able to appreciate the fact that at least his sister wouldn’t be there to laugh at him.

That thought reminded him of something he’d been meaning to ask the commander. “Sir, has there been any news of my sister?”

The commander gave him a somber look. “I suppose it is natural on this momentous day for your thoughts to turn to those family members who will not witness it. I had meant to put off telling you until after this evening, but I suppose it is better for you to hear it from me first, rather than some tipsy officer at the ball. Shortly after your sister murdered the patrolman, I sent several men to search Gogoleth for any sign of her. One of them never reported back.”

“You mean…”

“Some time later, his frozen corpse was discovered on a rooftop near the College of Apothecary.”

“Perhaps he merely froze to death?”

The commander shook his head. “I’m afraid not. His arm had been broken, and his throat slit. Presumably by your sister when she was discovered.”

“How terrible…” Sebastian still found it difficult to think of his sister as a cold-blooded murderer. She’d had a temper, certainly. And during their childhood she had been mean to him on any number of occasions, but he’d always assumed that to be the typical cruelty of an older sibling toward their younger sibling. Had she been harboring something darker all along? He’d never understood why she’d spent so much time with Mikhail. Sebastian hadn’t been close with the man, but he’d always seemed a rather harsh fellow. Perhaps he had been the one to take her down so sinister a path.

Vittorio smiled and placed his hand paternally on Sebastian’s shoulder. “It is indeed terrible. But every family has its black sheep, so I do not hold you or your mother accountable for your sister’s crimes. Today is a day for celebration, so let us put aside such grim matters for now.”

“Yes, sir.”

Engagement balls were traditionally held at the groom’s family’s main estate, but since the Turgenev estate was relatively humble, Commander Vittorio had generously offered to hold the ball at Her Imperial Majesty’s Grand Northern Ballroom.

The ballroom had been constructed shortly after the Treaty of Gogoleth and the end of the Winter War. Its main purpose was to offer an appropriately lavish and stately location for Her Imperial Majesty to entertain, should she decide to visit the newly acquired northern region of her vast empire. She had not yet deigned to do so in the twenty years that followed, but the ballroom was always kept at the ready, immaculately clean and fully staffed, just in case.

Sebastian had never actually seen the Grand Northern Ballroom before, and when the carriage drew near, he was awed by its immensity and grandeur. It was the largest single building in Gogoleth, with the possible exception of the venerable College of Apothecary. It was made not of the black stone that was so prevalent in Gogoleth, but a beige, almost white stone that had been transported at great expense from Aureum. Set among the dark buildings around it, the Grand Northern Ballroom seemed almost luminescent beneath the light of the full moon that shone overhead.

The carriage stopped at the bottom of the white stone stairs before the front entrance. Commander Vittorio stepped out first, followed by Sebastian. In addition to his green jacket, cleaned and brushed to perfection, and his tall, polished black boots, Sebastian wore pristine white gloves and a white cape with green trim over one shoulder.

He followed Commander Vittorio up the stairs and through the main doors into the spacious foyer, where an army of well-wishers descended upon him, most of whom he did not recognize.

After nodding, smiling, and shaking hands for what seemed an eternity, Vittorio finally managed to extract Sebastian from the group and lead him into the ballroom. There he was accosted by an even larger group of guests.

He did his best to appear gracious, but there was so much going on in that magnificent ballroom, he could barely focus on the person in front of him. Five crystal chandeliers, each with four tiers, were evenly spaced across the ceiling, glittering with countless candles. Tables lined the sides of the ballroom, laid out with nearly every type of food he could think of, from whole roast boar to a three-tiered chocolate cake slathered in vanilla icing. Servants weaved through the crowds holding aloft trays of wine or vodka. A small chamber Aureumian orchestra was tucked away in one corner, the trembling sound of strings wafting through the air as enticingly as the food.

“There you are, my darling boy!”

Sebastian turned eagerly toward the sound of his mother’s voice. She was dressed even more splendidly than he’d seen her before, with a wide hooped skirt and sleeves bordered in exquisite lace.

“Ah, Lady Portinari, you are a picture of loveliness,” said Commander Vittorio as he kissed her hand. “I’m so pleased that the gown I sent over suits you as well as I’d hoped.”

She smiled warmly at him. “A most generous gift, Commander. I thank you.”

“My dear lady, the only thanks I need is to see you wearing it on this most auspicious day.”

Sebastian’s mother turned back to him. “And don’t you look handsome, my son. If only your father were here to see you.”

Sebastian glanced over at Vittorio to see if he was offended by that statement, but the commander beamed broadly, as if it had nothing to do with him.

“Captain Portinari, man of the hour!”

General Zaniolo appeared, a glass of vodka in his left hand, a shy young woman half his age on his right arm.

“It’s good to see you, General,” said Sebastian.

“It’s nearly time for you to show off all that hard work you’ve been putting in this week,” said the general.

“Er… yes, I suppose it is…,” said Sebastian.

“Hard work, my darling?” asked his mother.

“General Zaniolo has been kind enough to give your son a quick introduction into the intricacies of courtly dance,” said Vittorio.

“Oh, how wonderful,” said his mother. “My thanks, General. I fear Sebastian had little instruction in such niceties as a boy.”

“That was readily apparent, my lady,” Zaniolo said cheerfully. “But between my vast knowledge and his sincere efforts, I think we’ve at least managed to guarantee he will not trip and fall headfirst into the cake.”

“No man can be master of all skills, my lady,” Vittorio said earnestly. “And as we all know, Captain Sebastian has a great many other talents.”

“Speaking of which,” said Zaniolo, “I’m curious to see how he fares at command. Have you assigned his unit yet?”

Vittorio shook his head. “As you know, the poor fellow has been absolutely beside himself with anticipation for this day, so I thought it best to wait until the engagement had been settled before throwing him into such a challenging and important role.”

Zaniolo nodded sagely. “As usual, Commander, your wisdom outshines us all.”

“Now, now, Savitri,” chided Vittorio. “If you keep up such lavish praise, I might begin to suspect that you are drunk.”

“Perish the thought, Commander,” said Zaniolo, then tipped his glass back and drank the remaining vodka in one gulp.

Vittorio sighed ruefully, like a father who is slightly disappointed in his son. But then he looked across the room, and suddenly smiled.

“Well, my boy. I believe it’s time.”

Sebastian followed the commander’s gaze and saw Galina standing on the other side of the crowd. She wore a sleeveless white lace gown with gloves that reached up to the elbow so that only her upper arms were bare. Her long, honey-colored hair, usually left free of all constraints, had been artfully braided and piled atop her head, which displayed her thin, graceful neck to great effect. Her large green eyes were fixed on his, as if nothing else in the whole world existed but him, and her delicate lips curved upward into a gentle smile. He had never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

Behind Galina stood Lady Prozorova, her expression one of absolute rapture, her cleavage nearly bursting out of the pale pink gown that contained it. Beside her stood Lord Prozorova, looking less aloof than usual. Sebastian might have imagined it, but there even seemed to be a slight smile on his lips.

Perhaps a signal had been given, or perhaps the connection between Sebastian and Galina was simply that palpable. Whichever it was, the chamber orchestra stopped playing, then the guests quieted down and parted to either side so that the space between him and his bride-to-be was clear.

“Forward march,” murmured Vittorio as he gave Sebastian a gentle but firm push.

Sebastian suddenly began to doubt his ability to walk in a normal fashion. It felt as though he tottered forward on stilts, his arms stiff at his sides. His mother and Commander Vittorio followed behind him. Galina and her parents also began to walk forward so that all six met in the center of the room.

Lord Prozorova began. “We thank you, Lady Portinari, for inviting us to partake in the generosity of your…” He paused and glanced around. “Home.” The words were part of the formal engagement ceremony, and apparently could not be changed to match the situation.

“We thank you, Lord and Lady Prozorova, for accepting our invitation,” Sebastian’s mother intoned. “I give my only son, Sebastian Turgenev Portinari, this ring, which is a symbol of our commitment to his pledge.” She handed the ring to Sebastian.

“Lo—” Sebastian cleared his throat. “Lord and Lady Prozorova, with this ring I pledge my heart, my honor, and my life to your daughter, Galina Odoyevtseva, so that we may be bonded for this life and the next in eternal matrimony. May she wear it as proof of this commitment?”

“She may,” replied Lord Prozorova.

Sebastian held out the ring, his eyes locked on hers. “Galina Odoyevtseva, do you accept this ring?”

Galina held his gaze as she extended one of her gloved hands. “I do.”

He gently slipped the ring onto her finger.

“Let all here witness the promise made this day between Sebastian Turgenev Portinari and my daughter, Galina Odoyevtseva Prozorova!” Lord Prozorova said in his deep, dry voice.

“We witness.” The sound of so many voices speaking at once boomed like thunder. Then everyone burst into applause.

Sebastian stood, red-faced and lock-kneed, his eyes clinging to Galina’s soft smile like a man about to drown. The only time he’d felt more overwhelmed was when he’d first released the full force of his magic on the Pustoy Plains.

The six of them stood there until the applause began to die down. Then Lord Prozorova signaled to the orchestra and they struck up a tune that sounded surprisingly like an Izmorozian folk song, rather than an imperial courtly air. The musicians, all Aureumians, were clearly struggling with the unfamiliar piece, but they plunged gamely on.

“Well, Sebastian?” said Galina. “Shall we dance?”

Sebastian swallowed hard and held out his hand. When her slim fingers touched his, he drew her in until their torsos were nearly touching.

“I’m afraid I’m not very good at this,” he whispered in her ear.

She grinned. “Did you think I was?”

“What shall we do, then?”

She shrugged. “The best we can, I suppose. If we are able to avoid stepping on each other’s toes, I shall call it a success.”

And so they began their awkward, four-legged gait around the open space in the center of the room, with their guests smiling politely all the while.

At first Sebastian felt painfully self-conscious, but as they danced, his attention was drawn to just how close Galina was. His hand was pressed against her lower back. He could feel her muscles shift beneath the fabric of the dress, and feel the heat from her skin through the thin material. He could feel the softness of her cheek as it brushed against his, and see the throb of her pulse in her elegant neck. What did he care what others thought when he held this beautiful, perfect woman in his arms?

“There they go,” she whispered sadly in his ear.

He turned to see her parents, his mother, and Commander Vittorio quietly slip out through a door in the back.

“I do dislike the transactional nature of this ceremony,” she told him.

“Yes.”

“However, there are some aspects I like quite a lot.”

“Such as?”

She flashed a surprisingly wolfish smile. “Well, for starters, you are expected to kiss me as often as conveniently possible. So why don’t you do that now?”

They gave up the pretense of dancing, and instead he took her face in his hands and drew her in for a kiss. She returned it with a fierceness that surprised and delighted him. She grasped his back with both hands and pulled him closer so that their bodies were pressed together, and his head was swimming in a rapture he had never known before.

Silently, he renewed his vow to protect Galina Odoyevtseva no matter the cost. Nothing would take this happiness away from him.