Free The Gantean (Tales of Blood & Light Book 1) by Emily June Street

one.
    Sayantaq as my feelings might be, I wanted to go to the Brokering party. I wanted to see it, to watch the dances Tiercel had taught me, to taste more of the flavorful foods, to stare at the costumes and finery and gold.
    I turned from the guest room and hurried down the broad stairs, my blood humming with excitement.

Five
    A crowd milled in the ballroom. Ladies wore rich, vibrant colors and jeweled bodices; men favored tight-tailored suits in black or blue or green. Daring gowns represented the fashion; my new attire that I had thought so extravagant back in Queenstown appeared plain by comparison. I did not mind the plainness, as I meant to keep quietly to the sidelines. Ghilene had advised me to avoid “hovering” near her, though no lady would attend a ball without a personal servant to fetch and carry for her.
    I skirted the edge of the room, passing Culan Entila, who stood with a girl in a peach gown with a metalwork belt done in gold leaves. We all approached a table laden with tiny cakes stacked on tiers of plates. Culan offered the girl one of his jewelry trinkets—a sign that he wanted to court her, if I recalled what Tiercel had told me about the Brokering. I covered a smile with my hand. The southerners struck me as quite bizarre in their mating practices. All this glitter and shine just to decide who should mate with whom. The Gantean way of the Elders assigning mates seemed much simpler.
    I found a quiet seat tucked against the wall from which to absorb the lavish scenery. The walls had been draped in long curtains of gold and grey fabric, and every available surface supported vases filled with large yellow flowers. Glass spheres dangled in the air, lit by magelight that cast a warm glow into the room.
    I spotted Costas Galatien. He wore all white, and he still gleamed as if he had been dusted with gold powder. He searched the room, scanning the perimeter, until his gaze landed on Ghilene, who had joined her brother by the food. Costas straightened the lapels of his coat and headed towards the Entilans.
    He bowed and spoke to Culan before offering Ghilene his arm. I quelled a momentary stab of envy and chose to view the situation pragmatically: Costas’s attention would put Ghilene in a pleasant mood, saving me distress.
    Only Ghilene and Costas danced when the music began. They moved through the star-figure Tiercel had shown me, backs and arms stiff in the preferred posture. Only after the second piece of music began did others join in the dance. Costas had switched partners and now held Stesichore, the elder Ricknagel sister with heavy gold hair who had been so unimpressed with Entila.
    By the third number, nearly everyone danced, even the older people. I surveyed the ballroom and found one forlorn creature sitting alone at a table in the shadows. The red birthmark that marred her right cheek likely had something to do with her lack of partner. I remembered how the Entilan siblings had mocked her behind her back: Splotch-Face , they’d called Sterling Ricknagel. The poor girl looked as though people had been saying such names to her face. Misery furrowed her forehead. Sterling's companion, the one who cut such a striking figure with her hair wrapped in a cowl, strode to Sterling’s empty table with the a young man in tow. The tall handmaiden held the boy’s arm in a grip that brooked no argument, and she delivered the boy to Sterling like an animal for sacrifice.
    Sterling shook her head, pale blue eyes wide. The companion gestured towards the dancers. Sterling rose awkwardly and allowed her new partner to guide her to the floor. A flicker of triumph flashed across the tall companion’s face. I smiled, understanding her pride in her success. I didn’t even like Ghilene, but as her handmaiden, I took an interest in her happiness. Clearly Sterling Ricknagel’s handmaiden felt the same way.
    “Are you Ghilene Entila’s girl?” someone asked from behind me.
    I turned, surprised to find a tall,