I shake my head.
“Play an instrument?”
“No.”
“Needlework? Reading? Have any impressive fae magics?”
Again, I shake my head. I suppose the magic part I have, but I can’t exactly show the audience how I freeze time and enter the spirit realm. Well, I guess I could, but I doubt my disappearing act would do much to impress a brother who already feels wary of the fae.
Nadia throws her hands in the air. “What are they even teaching princesses these days?”
“I didn’t have the most princessy upbringing.”
She barks a laugh. “Clearly. That means we need to come up with something fast. You said you’re good at swimming, and we all know you’re an excellent thief. So your grace is what we must capitalize on.”
“You think I’m graceful?”
She hesitates before answering, and when she does, it comes out more like a question. “Yes? I think you absolutely can be. How do you feel about the lyra?”
I furrow my brow. “Lyra?”
“My aerial hoop. How do you feel about it?”
“Desperate,” I say with a grin. “Can you teach me to use it by this evening?”
23
Later that night, I sit in the frontmost pew in the nave next to the other contestants while the Demonstration of Feminine Accomplishment begins. Josie Richmond sits at a piano bench on the dais playing a lovely tune. Sweat pools under my armpits and I have to sit on my hands to keep them from shaking. I haven’t the slightest clue what order we’ll perform in. Josie is the first to go, but any moment could be my turn.
My turn to make a total fool of myself if I’m not careful.
I’m dressed in a gold leotard with ruffled sleeves and a thin chiffon skirt that reaches just past my knees. Nadia insisted I forgo the skirt, but I felt too underdressed in just the leotard. I’ve covered my scandalously tight outfit in my new plum coat for now, but it only aggravates my rising temperature. Nadia and Podaxis are somewhere amongst the audience, but I haven’t seen them since Nadia delivered the aerial hoop and saw to it being properly hung. I’ve given up craning my neck to look behind me as even the slightest movement makes my muscles scream in protest. Turns out Nadia makes the hoop look easy when it is quite strenuous indeed. Before I left the theater to sneak back to the church, I managed to learn a very brief routine that she and Podaxis deemednot bad. Which is all I ever expected of myself. Now I can only hope it’s enough to not get me sent home at the end of the night. With the Blessing Ceremony happening immediately after our performances, there will be no further opportunity to steal into Dorian’s good graces.
I glance across the aisle at the pew he sits in next to Father Viktor, Brother Billius, and a couple of the other brothers. I believe I recognize Brother Christopher, the man who sat next to me at dinner. Behind them sits Glint McCreedy, his notebook open, pen at the ready. While I’ve avoided reading the papers since the contest began—because, let me just be honest, why start reading them now?—I cringe at the thought of what he might say about me tonight.
Forget seals jumping through hoops. Princess Maisie dangles like a fish on a hook!
Royals. They’re just like us! Or worse, because this one isn’t just awkward. She’s highly uncoordinated too.
I look back at the stage and feel my shoulders scream at the movement. With a wince, I rub my neck. Being no adequate judge of fine music, I watch Josie’s performance without really hearing it. Instead, I go over my routine in my head over and over.
I can do this, I tell myself.I’m a graceful selkie. I move through air like water.
Josie’s song comes to an end and the audience breaks into polite applause. Father Viktor steps onto the dais to announce the next contestant and I’m torn between dread and hope. Half of me wants nothing more than to get this over with while the other half would rather the building come down in a blazing fire before I’m forced onto that dais.
As fate would have it, I’m not called up next. Nor after that. Instead, Agnes shows off her impressive needlework of birds and pixies, followed by Vanessa reading a very long and boring passage of scripture. Then it’s Greta who performs a dramatic monologue. Finally, Briony takes the stage and does a comical waltz with an invisible partner.
My heart feels like it will fly out of my throat as Briony finishes her dance, knowing I’m next. Not just next but last. Once again, I wonder if our order has anything to do with favor. Am I still last in the running for Dorian’s heart? I brought him Lumies, for shells’ sake!
Briony leaves the dais and Father Viktor takes her place. The blood leaves my face as I watch the lyra being lowered from the rafters. It stops five feet above the ground, low enough that I can reach it without having to jump. Even so, I’ll have to perform an acrobatic feat just to get on it. It’s part of the routine, the move that I probably mastered best, but it still makes me feel like I’ll be sick.
By the time Viktor calls my name, I’m a sweating, shaking mess. He returns to the pew next to Dorian, and Initiate Jeremy takes a seat at the piano. Thankfully, I was able to rope him into providing music for my routine. He places his fingers on the keys and a familiar, jaunty tune begins to play, one I’m sure everyone is familiar with. I, of course, didn’t hear it until I came to Lumenas, but I’ve heard it almost every day since, blaring from stages and street corners. Nadia insisted something familiar would help me fix my routine to the beat, so here we are.
And here I am stuck to my seat. Someone elbows me in the side, and I turn to find Greta with a wide smile urging me off the pew. With a deep breath, I force myself to move, to stand, and shrug off my coat. The cool air that touches my skin in the coat’s absence comes as a relief. I close my eyes and try to pretend I’m standing on the bluff at Cape Vega, or—better yet—my lagoon outside Bircharbor Palace. Then, with trembling legs, I make my way up the dais and next to the hoop. I refuse to look out at the audience as I grasp one side of the lyra with both hands. My muscles ache, but I ignore it. Nadia assured me once I start the routine, my body will loosen up so long as I keep breathing.
Gripping the hoop tight, I lift my feet off the ground. Swinging one leg out wide, I clench my core and raise the leg up, up, and hook it over the ring while the other straightens to a point. Then, keeping one hand on the hoop, I let go with the other and lift it overhead in an arc, bending back a little at a time until I find a long, sinuous pose. I breathe deep here, allowing myself to gather my bearings while I hold the position. The lyra turns in a slow circle, and I feel my nerves begin to settle. With the fluid motions that Nadia taught me, I reverse the arc and return my hand to the ring, higher this time, and pull myself up until both legs are over the bottom of the hoop. From there I perform move after move and find myself enjoying the elegant poses I unlock with the simple shift of grip and limb placement. I try to keep each motion aligned with the music, but I’m sure I’m missing a beat or three. At least I’m remembering my routine. And not just remembering it…I’m performing it really well. As well as I can, that is.
I continue the routine, extending my arms and legs. Hold pose. Shift slow. Change grip. Extend one arm, point a toe, hook my knee around the hoop. Hold pose. Shift again. Again.
