My spirits were high as I joined Nee and Bran. But instead of walking down the...

My spirits were high as I joined Nee and Bran. But instead of walking down the stairs to go into the ballroom with the rest of the guests, Nee and Bran led the way across the hall, to the gallery that overlooked the ballroom, and stopped at the landing at the top of the grand stairway. And there we found Shevraeth waiting for us, looking formidable and remote in his usual dark colors. Remembering with dismaying intensity that the last time we had talked with one another I had managed--again--to instigate a quarrel, I felt embarrassment chase away my anticipation.
Shevraeth greeted us in his customary calm manner. When he turned at last to Bran, I muttered out of the side of my mouth to Nee, "You mean we have to go down these stairs--with him--and everyone looking at us?"
"We're the guests of honor," she whispered back, obviously trying not to laugh. She looked fabulous in her dark brown velvet gown, embroidered all over with tiny gold leaves dotted with little rubies. "We're supposed to be looked at! We'll open the ball. You remember? I know I told you."
Bran flicked my shoulder. "Brace up, Mel. You'll like it. I promise."
My attempt at a bland face obviously wasn't convincing. I studied the toes of my dancing slippers, wishing with all my strength that I was back in Tlanth, riding the mountain trails with no humans in sight.
"Savona's waiting," Nee whispered to me.
Some invisible servant must have given a signal, for the music started: an entire orchestra filling the vaulted room with the strains of an ancient promenade. Had I been downstairs among the glittering throng, I would have loved it, but I now had Shevraeth standing right beside me, holding out his arm. I just I would manage to do something embarrassing.
I took a deep breath, straightened my shoulders, and tried my best to smooth my face into a polite smile as I put my hand on his sleeve.
Just before we started down, he murmured, "Think of this as a battle."
"A battle?" I repeated, so surprised I actually looked up at his face. He didn't look angry, or disgusted, or sarcastic. But there was suppressed laughter in the way his gray eyes were narrowed.
He replied so softly I could just barely hear it. "You've a sword in your hand, and vast numbers of ravening minions of some dreaded evil sorcerer await below. The moment you step among them, you'll leap into battle, mowing them down in droves…"
The absolute unlikelihood of it made me grin, on the verge of laughter. And I realized that while he'd spoken we had come safely down the stairs and were halfway along the huge room to the Duke of Savona, who waited alone. On either side people bowed and curtsied, as graceful as flowers in the wind.
I'd almost made it, and my smile was real--until I lost the image and remembered where I was, and who I was with, and I muttered defensively, "I don't really like battles, you know."
"Of course I know," he returned, still in that soft voice. "But you're used to them." And then we were before Savona, who was resplendent in black and crimson and gold; and as the Duke bowed, fanfare after fanfare washed over me like waves of brilliant light. Because Shevraeth was also a guest of honor, and had the highest rank, it was his choice for the first dance, and he held out his hand to me. Savona went to Nee, and Bran went to Nee's cousin Tamara.
We danced. I moved through the complicated steps with sureness, my whole body in harmony with the singing strings, my eyes dazzled by the swirl of color all around me. Above our dancing figures, and around us, flowers and ribbons and hangings of every shade of violet and lavender made the room seem almost impossibly elegant.
When the dance ended, Shevraeth bowed and handed me to Savona, and once again I danced, relieved that I had somehow managed to get through the first one without any awkwardness at all. I thought happily as I spun and stepped; "