  &quot;Is there a place we can sit down?&quot; I wince, sounding more petulant than I wanted to. I can t help it. We ve been dancing at this ball for what feels like an eternity, and my feet are killing me because of these insane shoes.
  &quot;Certainly, if that is your wish,&quot; Dmitri responds with bemusement, &quot;but I thought we were having a lovely time—&quot;
  &quot;Much as I ve enjoyed the dancing and overhearing the gossip, if some relief is not found for my feet, to release them from the torture devices they ve been strapped into—&quot;
  &quot;Ah, yes, of course. Right this way. There may be some respite near the champagne and hors d oeuvres.&quot; My fiancé takes my elbow and leads me off the dance floor, but then, much to my dismay, Zinaida floats directly into our path.
  &quot;You ve done absolutely lovely, my darlings. I must say I m quite impressed,&quot; she gushe

  I foolishly assumed that the party would end after Zinaida fainted, but Wesley simply appeared from the crowd, scooped Zinaida up, and carried her away, muttering to Dmitri that it was now his responsibility to keep everyone entertained, at least until he and his wife recovered from the understandable shock of all of their secrets being made known to me at once.
  &quot;And please, for the love of God, let s try not to have any more fallout. Your mother will be more than upset enough as things are,&quot; Wesley pleaded. Dmitri and I just exchanged glances, and then Dmitri replied with the &quot;Of course, Father&quot; that was expected while intending that we would simply return to our former acting routine. And so we find ourselves now in conversation with Nadezhda and Torcuil, the orange-suited man with a heavy brogue who unleashed so many secrets.
  &quot;A pity  bout all this mess,

  &quot;Well, you didn t make it easy, milady, but I d say you re quite presentable for the ball now,&quot; Juniper huffs, eliciting a chorus of relieved noises from the other maids who have been torturing me helping me get ready. I can t blame them all for being annoyed with me. Dmitri and I ended up riding around the grounds, including through a muddy creek or two, so I was quite the mess when we came in, and rather tired, besides. Accordingly it took longer than Juniper had originally planned to bathe me--they insisted on bathing me! All of them! I ve never been so humiliated in my life! And then of course I fell asleep once they had me all snugly wrapped up in warm towels while they were working on my fingernails and toenails. It seems, from the bits of Juniper s lecture that I caught, that I don t take good enough care of such things and as such I am a disgrace to all womankind. After that debacle they had to do my hair, which caused even more irritation because my thick, wavy auburn tresses are extremely unruly and defy styling of any kind. And then we had an argument about cosmetics, which of course I lost because there were too many of them for me to escape.
  Thus I find myself standing in front of the mirror unable to recognise my reflection, as so much has been done to me. The dress, for once, is not the torture contraption I feared but rather a lovely creation of pale cyan that brings out my eyes and fits beautifully with minimal corseting. The shoes, on the other hand, are silver sandals with a complex weave of straps and ridiculously high heels I shall have trouble walking in, let alone dancing. My arguments on the matter went unheeded. My hair has somehow been concocted into a fashionable updo studded with sapphires to match the jewelry they ve made me wear, around my engagement necklace, and the ornamentation on my dress, which is accented with the dark blue stones. And the cosmetics...well, my skin has never looked so flawless, my eyes so enormous, or my lips so sensuously red.
  &quot;Thank you, ladies. I apologise for all the difficulties,&quot; I answer Juniper while gratifying the others. &quot;How long until the ball?&quot;
  &quot;Just long enough to teach you to walk and dance properly in those shoes, since you seemed so concerned about it,&quot; one of the nicer ladies asserts. &quot;Come with me into the hallway. No need to practise on rugs. That won t be useful for you.&quot; I struggle to follow her into the hallway without catching my heels in the woven rugs and falling flat on my face. Each step gets progressively easier, to my delight. Perhaps this will be doable, after all. The maid seems confused once we re in the hallway but makes no remark.
  &quot;Let s just start by walking up and down the hallway a few times, all right?&quot; she suggests.
  &quot;All right,&quot; I acquiesce, following her lead and mimicking the way she makes her dress seem to float over the shining hardwood floors. Halfway down the hallway she stops dead in her tracks and whirls around to face me, only to be startled that I am fairly close behind her and stumble back to a more appropriate distance from me.
  &quot;How do you manage to walk in such shoes without making a sound? I thought you were still standing outside your room!&quot; she exclaims. I pale a bit for fear and then force myself to flush with embarrassment to cover for it.
  &quot;It s a talent I ve always had, moving without making noise. You re right, though, I should try to refrain from using it for now... Please accept my humblest apologies.&quot;
  &quot;You need not apologise. I have half a mind to ask you to teach me how to move like that. But no matter. I ll watch you, now, and make sure you can pass for a lady with the way you walk. How did you manage to reach the age of eighteen without learning to walk in such shoes, growing up in a noble family?&quot;
  &quot;I always put studs in the heels of my flat shoes so that they clicked on the floors so that everyone thought I was wearing heels,&quot; I answer truthfully, though that may not be the best tactic to employ, as I walk down the hallway giving a fair impression that I m not about to trip over myself and become an embarrassment. &quot;My skirts were always long enough that I could get away with it. I never had a retinue of maids to help me get ready. Mother knew I could take care of myself and thus the maids attended to my siblings. There were nine of us, you know.&quot;
  &quot;I didn t know. Nine? What an enormous family. Well, I can safely say that you are quite a fast learner. Your walking is certainly ladylike. Now, let us practise a few of the dances here, just to be sure that you are prepared. I ll dance lead, no need to worry about that.&quot; As she begins to lead me through the traditional dances, I have to wonder how she learned to dance a man s part so well.
  &quot;You dance like a dream, even doing a man s part,&quot; I compliment her. &quot;How did you learn it?&quot;
  &quot;Oh, just a talent I ve always had. I m not good for much else, except styling hair,&quot; she replies airily. Dare I think that she is teasing me a bit?
  &quot;I have to say you ve all done a lovely job on mine, much as I hate the process of getting dressed up like this.&quot;
  &quot;Well, thank you kindly. Your hair strongly dislikes being styled, though, it must be said. But as compensation, you re really quite pretty, and you re an excellent dancer. I m sure Their Excellencies will find no fault in you.&quot;
  &quot;I m nervous about meeting the extended family.&quot;
  &quot;As anyone would be, but I get the feeling that you re a natural with situations like this. The rumours I ve heard about your own family would indicate that you d have to be, anyway.&quot;
  &quot;What do they say around here about my family?&quot;
  &quot;Nothing good, and I ll leave it at that. It s high time you made your grand entrance downstairs. Your fiancé is waiting for you, no doubt impatiently.&quot;
  &quot;No doubt.&quot; We walk together towards the stairs that lead down to the other floors, though I strongly suspect she ll disappear once I m in place to make my (dreaded) grand entrance.
  &quot;You know, you re the envy of every woman in the mansion except his mother. He s quite a catch. Very handsome.&quot;
  &quot;I like him quite well so far, and I hope he feels the same for me.&quot;
  &quot;Based on the amount of time he s spent with you since you arrived here, I hardly think you have anything to worry about in that regard. He mostly kept to himself before you arrived, riding or painting or in some other solitary pursuit, and he was never the talkative sort.&quot; I had somewhat suspected as much. He s not overly talkative even when he s with me.
  &quot;I would dearly love to see his paintings.&quot;
  &quot;Good luck. As far as I know his painting tutor is the only one who s even been in his art studio aside from himself. But enough about him. I have to leave you now. Enjoy your evening! And remember to smile. It could always be worse.&quot;
  &quot;I m not quite sure how. I hate ceremonial events.&quot;
  &quot;You could be on fire in a ditch.&quot; This flippant remark makes me clap a hand over my mouth to prevent my torrents of laughter from being heard by the guests at the foot of the grand staircase, to which I am dangerously close now. &quot;There now, see? This isn t so bad. Go stun them all.&quot; And with that the maid--whose name I unfortunately never caught--disappears, leaving me to my doom. I take a few deep breaths to get my nerve up and then step confidently towards the stairs, hoping that my newfound skill for walking in heels does not suddenly leave me. The footman at the top of the stairs blows a fanfare on his trumpet and the conversation downstairs stops. All heads turn towards the Grand Staircase as I slowly make my stately descent. I hope I m managing to look like the elegant lady they want me to be. In all actuality, I m moving slowly to make sure that I don t trip and fall on my face. People wearing shoes with high heels simply were not meant to go down stairs.
  The people below are certainly an interesting lot. Most of them have amber eyes like Dmitri s, although somehow neither as bright nor as enchanting in any case, or grey eyes like Zinaida. All are staring at me and talking to those nearest them in low voices. Although all are dressed in formal wear, most with amber eyes are wearing brightly coloured costumes that reflect their dominant element, while the ones with grey eyes are dressed in the clothes traditionally worn by the Russian court. Those individuals are quite as solemn as Dmitri warned me they d be.
  Speaking of my fiancé, he has materialised at the bottom of the stairs and is watching me with something like pride, which makes me smile and blush a bit. He takes my hand when I reach the base of the staircase and then turns to face the crowd.
  &quot;Everyone, it is my pleasure to introduce you to my fiancée, Aerys de Poitiers. I humbly request that you will accept her as a member of our family,&quot; Dmitri announces, squeezing my hand affectionately at the end. I squeeze his in return, nervous about how his family will react. The group before us breaks into a smattering of polite applause. Still I can catch some of the mutterings of less polite individuals near us: de Poitiers? Isn t that the name of the bastard who stole Richard Berkeley s fortune, God rest his soul? Prompted the poor man s suicide, didn t he? And all by cheating at cards, too! What is poor Richard s grandson doing with anyone of that family? I struggle to keep my face impassive, as though I have not heard this, but I can hardly believe my ears. This revelation is stunning at bare minimum, if indeed it is factual. Goodness, Harry, must you be so rude? The young lady seems extremely well bred, and she s uncommonly pretty. Perhaps she s of a different family, and even if she s not, we at least ought to give her a chance. Glad to know there are some nice people in this crowd.
  &quot;Ignore them,&quot; Dmitri whispers to me as we walk through the middle of the crowd towards his parents. &quot;I told you that you d learn a lot tonight, didn t I? Keep up your acting skills. I ll answer questions afterward, on the roof.&quot; I squeeze his hand and nod slightly in reply, not trusting my voice. I knew Grandfather gambled, but I didn t realise it was such a problem as to have lost a man his fortune and prompted his suicide. I have no doubt that I was selected as restitution for this incident.
  &quot;We most certainly accept Aerys into our family with loving arms,&quot; Wesley answers Dmitri s announcement grandly, quite as though this is the first time this decision is being brought to light. I smile with what I hope is well-feigned relief, and Dmitri spontaneously lifts me by my hips and spins me around a couple times with an expression of lovelorn euphoria I dearly hope is an exaggeration of his true feelings. Wesley and Zinaida smile indulgently at us. &quot;Dmitri, would you and Aerys do us the honour of leading the first several dances?&quot;
  &quot;It would be our pleasure,&quot; Dmitri replies after setting me back on my own two feet. Wesley smiles broadly and claps twice, causing the orchestra in the corner to burst into song. I know the piece well--indeed, I can play it better than their hired musicians--and the dance is simple but lively. Until tonight, however, I never had a good partner for it. Dmitri dances exceedingly well, for all he claims he has no musical ability, and I am much pleased by this revelation.
  &quot;I always liked this dance, but your skills might have made it my favourite,&quot; I smile to Dmitri as we whirl through the centre of the throng of his dancing relatives. &quot;It is so nice to dance with someone who knows what he is doing.&quot;
  &quot;You are too kind, fair lady. You have quite confirmed my suspicions about your dancing skills, as well, for I, too, have never had a better partner,&quot; he answers in a silky murmur that makes me hot and tingly all over. I don t understand the things I want, the things I find myself imagining: a dark room, just the two of us and candlelight, his hands on my body, no clothes, no boundaries....
  But the song changes and I am jolted from my imaginings to focus on a dance I do not know quite as well as the first. None around us can discern the difference, however. I can say with confidence that Dmitri and I far outshine the rest of the crowd in dancing ability. Couples we pass remark on that, as well. I had hoped that I would be joining a family less judgmental than my own, but alas, that does not seem to be the case:
  &quot;Floats like a dream, she does. Can t imagine that dress looking good on anyone else, though. An interesting choice.&quot;
  &quot;Bold, too, to stray from the traditional white. I can hardly believe Zinaida allowed such a thing.&quot;
  &quot;It quite suits her, though. I d say the girl has taste.&quot;
  &quot;Quite right, quite right, if she picked it herself.&quot;
  &quot;A fine dancer, that lass. Pity she s from such a rotten family. I feel as though I could quite like her otherwise.&quot;
  &quot;Surely you know why she s here. The conniving sorceress Old Man de Poitiers snared saved his neck by working out deals with the families he offended. Poor girl s just our compensation. We ought to be nice to her.&quot; As much as I appreciate that the woman who said this wants to be nice to me, the word compensation in reference to me still makes my blood boil with anger. Dmitri can feel it and lets his lips brush my ear, distracting me, if only momentarily.
  &quot;Blimey! The girl s got magic. D you feel it, Benny?&quot;
  &quot;O course the girl s got magic, Lindy, m dear. How else would she be set up with the likes o  Dmitri there? Ye knows as well as I does that there can t be no marriage between a human and one of us without it.&quot;
  &quot;D you s pose it s the right kind?&quot;
  &quot;Look at 'er eyes, an  ye tell me what ye thinks.&quot;
  &quot;Crikey! Got that right, did they?&quot;
  &quot;No they about it. The crazy witch that de Poitiers scum bedded arranged it all to save  er lover s neck.&quot;
  &quot;Lovely bunch of revelations for you, isn t it?&quot; Dmitri whispers to me. We ve somehow kept dancing through all of this. I hold him entirely responsible for that. I am too angry and curious and indignant and stewing over everything I ve learned from overhearing these conversations to really pay the dancing much mind. It s a miracle I haven t fallen off my shoes yet. I ll have to thank Dmitri for that later.
  &quot;Horrifying. Are they always so uncouth as to gossip about such things in the hearing of those about whom they are gossiping?&quot; I inquire darkly. Dmitri chuckles.
  &quot;Try not to take offence, Aerys. I m sure deep down you re pleased to have a couple more pieces of the puzzle. And they are usually quite so blunt, but I may or may not have asked them to speak of such things in your hearing.&quot;
  &quot;What?!&quot; I can hardly believe this. He chuckles again, plainly enjoying my mixed emotions.
  &quot;Well, I know I couldn t answer all of your questions myself, and quite frankly it makes me right uncomfortable to talk about these things with you. But I explained to a few of my relatives--the ones I m closest to--your situation, not knowing anything about these arrangements until the night we came to get you, and they re quite sympathetic to your cause, actually. They gladly agreed to help enlighten you tonight.&quot;
  &quot;Did you perhaps think of the possible consequences that might be incurred if and when your parents find out that such information was placed in my hands?&quot;
  &quot;If they find out, my relatives have graciously agreed to take all the blame without mentioning my involvement in this disclosure.&quot;
  &quot;That won t keep your parents from greatly restricting my freedoms on account of my knowledge.&quot;
  &quot;You needn t worry about that. I fully intend that you ll learn enough tonight that they won t be able to blame or punish you for anything. If anything your freedoms will be expanded after tonight. Don t fret about it. Focus on the dancing. You were doing beautifully until we started talking. Now I sense you re slipping a bit.&quot;
  &quot;Completely your fault.&quot; Nevertheless, the challenge he offered me with this last indirect insult irks me enough to redirect my attention to the dance. Still I hear the conversations around us: More about my appearance, especially from Zinaida s snooty relatives, and speculation about everything from my magical capabilities to my involvement in my own marriage plans, and rude commentary about my grandparents and their pasts. Still, much to my irritation, I learn nothing about the situations concerning my sister s marriages. Perhaps none of them know anything about that, or perhaps I ll learn more later, after the dancing. Judging by the tables at the back of the main hall/ballroom, I strongly suspect we ll be having a reception of sorts once everyone gets tired, and I would be nothing less than disappointed if none of Dmitri s lovely relations chose to converse with me about the topics to which their gossip pertains.

&quot;Is there a place we can sit down?&quot; I wince, sounding more petulant than I wanted to. I can t help it. We ve been dancing at this ball for what feels like an eternity, and my feet are killing me because of these insane shoes.
  &quot;Certainly, if that is your wish,&quot; Dmitri responds with bemusement, &quot;but I thought we were having a lovely time—&quot;
  &quot;Much as I ve enjoyed the dancing and overhearing the gossip, if some relief is not found for my feet, to release them from the torture devices they ve been strapped into—&quot;
  &quot;Ah, yes, of course. Right this way. There may be some respite near the champagne and hors d oeuvres.&quot; My fiancé takes my elbow and leads me off the dance floor, but then, much to my dismay, Zinaida floats directly into our path.
  &quot;You ve done absolutely lovely, my darlings. I must say I m quite impressed,&quot; she gushes, glass of champagne in hand. I barely manage to stifle my groan of exasperation. There s a seati

Chapter 20 Secrets Revealed