6 - JASINA

CHAPTER SIX

T he Dance of Sisters is the most stressful part about the Choosings because there are seventy-five girls, plus the boys we've been partnered up with. I guess we could just enter in two single-file lines and meet somewhere in the middle—it would get the job of getting us in here and with the right partner done in a much more efficient manner, but this is up-city and what is the point of a gala if you're not gonna put on a spectacle?

And so the Matron choreographers came up with the Dance of Sisters… oh, hundreds of years ago, probably. Maybe every Little Sister in the history of Tau City kicked off the first Choosing in this manner, I'm not sure. And it doesn't matter. For this is the way we begin tonight. Eight stairwells deliver lines of exquisitely dressed young men. But the boys closest to us are not the boys we have been partnered with. That's much too simple for a gala this important.

No, there are many steps to take and turns to make before we will end up with the boys chosen to be escorts for the Extraction. We are stuck with them for the duration.

So I count my steps and focus my attention on the other hundred and forty-nine people dancing, and twirling, and walking across the glossy stone floor with me until finally, a good seven minutes after the young men have joined us, I am staring up at Donal Oslin.

Every boy here tonight is handsome. Just as every girl is pretty. That's a given. I mean, why spoil the night with ugly people when you have specimens such as us?

But Donal Oslin is a whole other kind of handsome. He's got dark hair that's always been a little bit too messy for his status in life. But no one seems to care because this tousled look only accentuates his perfect dimples flanking his charming smile.

And that's just where the handsome starts with Donal, because even covered by the flawless, sand-colored suit his body is on full display. His shoulders are broad and his chest wide, tapering down into a v-shape at his narrow waist. The shirt he's wearing under his jacket is so tight the ripped muscles of his stomach make a pattern of hills and valleys under the fabric.

I've seen him shirtless. We didn't practice this dance in suits and dresses. So it doesn't take much imagination on my part to conjure up a reliable image of what those muscles look like without clothes.

But Donal and I? Not a thing. He comes from an entirely different kind of family than I do.

Well, kind of.

The Oslins run the entire Tower District. Which doesn't sound particularly advantageous at first glance, since the Tower District is so small and consists only of the God's Tower, the bell tower, and the God's Tower event center. But being the Tower District governor, which is Donal's father's title, is somewhat akin to being a king. He has final say over everything that happens here. It's a small kingdom, to be sure, as the only people who live in Tower District are the Oslins, the bellmakers, and the five families who take care of the event center and the grounds. But it's special and Prince Donal here understands, and uses, this unique station in life to his full advantage.

My family was special like that too, once upon a time. As bellmakers we were part of this small kingdom until the demotion that that got us sent down-city several generations back.

I can't tell if Donal finds the fact that my family used to live in the Tower District to be a threat or just an unfortunate reminder that nothing lasts forever, but regardless, he hates me.

And he's not shy about showing it.

At least to me. Donal here is much, much, much too cultured to ever make a scene in public. But he's got ways of jabbing me with insults so no one ever hears.

His right hand slips town to my waist and his left hand is waiting for me when I press my palm into it. Then we are dancing. He takes ceremony and circumstance all very seriously, so he waits until we've found our rhythm, making sure that all the other couples around us are on track as well, before he starts in on me.

"You look like a whore, Jasina. Why are your clothes always so… slutty ?"

I don't even break my smile. Or eye contact. This is my moment, not his. He is nothing but a partner. Completely replaceable. I am Chosen . And I think this is part of the reason he's so mean to me when we dance. No one is looking at him tonight. His suit is very nice, but every partner in this ballroom is wearing that very same suit. It's nothing but a uniform.

My dress, on the other hand, is spectacular. My light display, while simple, was original and people loved it.

And he knows this. Everyone is looking at me and this dress and they are thinking about my spark. All the most spectacular photographs of this year's First Choosing will be of me.

Donal will probably be there for some of them—the society page writers can't not mention him—but he will be nothing but a small side note and I will be the main event.

When he doesn't get a rise out of me, he takes it a step further, squeezing my hand until the little bones of my fingers are being painfully pressed into each other. "It's always so over the top with you, Jasina. I get it, you've got no proper role models down-city—just the tavern sluts and the tattooed strippers—but come on." He pauses here to chuckle. "You've been coming up-city for etiquette classes for six years now, surely you've window-shopped the latest fashions. There's no excuse for all that… fluff ."

He looks down at my tulle skirts for a moment, then back up at me, meeting my gaze. He smiles, his green eyes bright with wicked malice. And his next few words come out low, barely a whisper. "It's like you want everyone to see you as something for sale. Are you for sale, Jasina? How many coins will it cost me if I take you into a tunnel, push your face into a wall, lift up all that fluff, and fuck you in the ass?"

It's… gross. And it used to make me mad when he said things like this to me when we danced, but I forced myself to ignore him. He typically gives up if I don't give him a reaction. But I'm just tired of it now and I can't bite my tongue this time. "Donal," I say, my voice a low whisper, just as his was. "Your father doesn't even have enough coin to buy me, sweetie. Though he did try, much to your mother's dismay. So don't worry your pretty little head about how much I cost, dear boy, I'm way out of your league."

His mouth forms a chuckle, but I can see the anger dancing in his narrowed eyes.

He's about to retort with something equally hateful, but the music changes and this is our cue. A moment later I'm spinning away, right into the hands of my next partner.

Reid Bladen is the complete opposite of Donal Oslin, though they do run in the same crowd. Reid is Lucindy's partner, and this makes me very happy because he's everything Donal is not and Lucindy is the sweetest little rebel this war will ever see.

Also, Reid is a nice buffer as far as the opening dance goes. I get four minutes with him, then I move on to another of the boys in the same clique, Murray Gray, who is partnered with Ceela. But the time spent with each partner gets shorter and shorter after Reid, so I don't worry too much about who is guiding me across the glossy stone floors. And instead I concentrate on all the details around me.

Who is standing front-row of the crowded dancefloor beyond the bright lights where the Little Sisters dance? Who is up in the balconies? Is anyone unhappy? Anyone have a frown? Who is laughing loudly? Who is already drunk?

I'm good with details and my memory has been trained to retain things since I was a small child, so this is what I do for the remainder of the dance—I soak it all up so I can report back later.

And then it's over. We stop and I clap. My ending partner is Bruce Cadwell, Harlow's date for the night, and he claps too. Sometimes he's mean to me, but he didn't say anything at all to me tonight and when I look up at him, I find his eyes searching the room until finally, they land on Harlow. Probably preoccupied with the idea he might get his face under that dress of hers.

I turn away from that, absolutely not looking around for Donal, and instead lift my gaze up to the balconies where the Maidens are.

Just the three of them now. Usually, there would be nine and the entire balcony would be overflowing with the big skirts of gorgeous silk dresses. But tonight, the balcony looks empty and they look lonely.

I follow Clara's gaze and find that she is staring at the balcony across the way.

Which is empty.

That's where Finn should be. Well, that's where Aldo should be if things were going to plan around here.

But things are not going to plan.

At least not for the Scott family.

And they might never go to plan again if the Rebellion has anything to say about it.

As soon as the clapping stops, the music starts again, signaling the second dance. This time, no partners. It's just us. And now that I can put Donal fully out of my mind and concentrate on my moment, and my friends, and my good fortune—that's what I do.

I dance, and I smile, and I laugh.