Ferdinand started practice at the St. Vitus the day after we'd met the princess. I tagged along, pulled by his nervousness, but also by Hannabella's insistence that I not mope around in my room. Somehow she knew how much the dancing made my heart burn with longing and shame, though I couldn't be surprised that she did. She always knew what I was thinking or feeling, like she had a special door into my soul. She knew exactly how much I'd cry and sulk if I was left to fester alone in my rooms, and so she bundled me up and shipped me out at the crack of dawn with Ferdinand.

So, even though it was still too early for most of the city to be awake, I was sitting in the theater seats, watching the Restoration ballet taking shape up on the stage. Mr. Gramercie directed the dancers through warm-ups, then into lessons, where he taught the opening figures of his ballet. The Maestro accompanied him on the piano, with an old Rumoni tune that we all knew from our childhoods. This, apparently, was Mr. Gramercie's goal. To awaken the old Rumoni folktales and songs, mixing them with choreography and a loose plot, to memorialize the old country that we once all knew and loved. If you had even a single drop of Rumoni blood in your veins, it would be hard to resist the patriotic pull of that pounding music.

While Mr. Gramercie's assistant, a young woman with hawkish eyes, directed the corps, Mr. Gramercie focused most of his attention on Ferdinand. I could tell, even from a long distance, that Ferdinand was panicked. He went through the steps with the eagerness of learning that all professional dancers held, but something about the way his shoulders held stiff and how he was so quick to stop, let me know that he wasn't exactly as at ease as some might think. Mr. Gramercie, unheading of the hidden turmoil, rushed through, too excited to have someone talented under his tutelage.

Pushing to my feet, I crossed down to the backstage door, pushing it open and stepping into the narrow but still cavernous room behind the curtain. Pulleys and ropes filled the walls, tied up and ready to lower curtains or scenes or people from the rafters. Above my head, a series of catwalks suspended above the back and front stage, enabling staff to better control the production. No one was around, at the moment, since the dance was not yet ready for production.

I paused by the edge of the curtain, looking out at the stage, this time from the back. I was near where Ferdinand stood with Mr. Gramercie. They were talking intently, Mr. Gramercie with the fervor of a visionary, and Ferdinand with a crease between his brows and his hands on his hips. He was covered in sweat already, from all the grand jumps Mr. Gramercie envisioned, and his chest rose and fell swiftly. I waited until he glanced up, catching my eye, before blowing him a kiss and smiling. His own smile crept along his face, briefly, before Mr. Gramercie snapped his fingers to regain Ferdinand's attention.

I kept my smile and stayed where I was in the gap between the curtain and the wall. Ferdinand could see me when he needed to, and perhaps it would steady his nerves. He already looked more relaxed, and the lines were gone from his forehead. He executed a leap and then an immediate spin, earning a clap of approval from Mr. Gramercie. It was all I could do to not clap myself.

After a few more minutes of observation, I suddenly felt a presence over my shoulder. Years of living with Mr. Lennox had put me on guard, always knowing who was nearby. Whoever it was behind me now, they were approaching me quickly. Before I even gave my body the order, it spun around on its own and I nearly collided with Galina Mosin's ample bosom.

"Countess!" she boomed, gripping my hand between her own. "I was just coming to find you and ask you about the meeting with the princess last night!"

"Oh..." I said, unsure what to say. Princess Alice had been a darling, and I had found myself quite forgetting that she was so close to the crown. We'd been able to talk about dancing and books and some paintings, and it was almost like talking to Hannabella. Easy and unpressured. Yet, with Galina now breathing down on me from her impressive height, I felt like I should somehow not let anyone know this. Perhaps my attachment to Princess Alice could remain safe in my memories.

Galina grinned anyway, though I hadn't answered her question. "You hit it off with our queen's dear sister!" She leaned in close, her breath smelling vaguely of chocolate. "What a cunning genius you are! The Restoration can always use supporters, and you've made yourself friendly with one of the biggest lovers of art in the country. If Princess Alice can be convinced that Rumonin's culture and arts are worth preserving, then she might donate to the cause. Perhaps she might even speak to her sister!"

I smiled with uncertainty, trying to detach my hand from hers. I wasn't sure I wanted to be convincing any royalty of anything, and yet Galina acted as if I already had agreed.

Waving her hand in the air, she pulled me to her side, heading back out toward the seats. "Well, now, since you are our countess, we can have you submitted to the list of names that Princess Alive invites to her fetes, and perhaps then you can start to work on her sympathies. I'd give you a script, of course, of what to say in order to awaken her to the importance of our cause..."

She droned on and on, and I tuned her out in a near panic. I wasn't ready to go to parties and balls, certainly not ones that involved the royal family. A small gathering put on for Hannabella to sing was quite different from an actual event, where Flaunsian nobles would gather to scratch backs and palm favors. It was no world I wanted any part of, and yet Galina was not going to be easily dissuaded.

I sat trapped by Galina's side for a few more minutes before the doors in back of the auditorium opened and someone slipped in. I looked back, desperate for anyone to save me, until I realized that it was the young man with the dark and wild hair that I had met last time I was in this place. He lacked his dance troupe this time, yet he still walked down the aisle with all the confidence of someone who might have owned the building.

Though Mr. Gramercie cast him a wary glance, the young man did not approach him. Instead, he walked over to the orchestra pit and leaned over to gather some papers from the maestro's stand. He shuffled them for a minute before tucking them under his arm and heading back up the aisle. It was at this point that he saw me and paused. A tick later, a crooked smile spread across his face and he raised his hand in greeting.

"Do you know Andres?" Galina asked, raising her eyebrows.

"No, not really," I replied.

Now the young man stood just feet from us, leaning against a chair. "We meet again."

Galina put on a frown, not letting me answer him before she interrupted. "I hope you aren't bothering our countess, Andres Duncan. She is very important to the Resotration's goals, and we need her to be focused on the dance and the Committee."

"A countess?" Andres' eyes swiveled to mine, and I knew there was laughter hidden behind his seemingly politely interested face.

"I... I didn't grow up a countess," I stuttered. "Mr. Leopard only just found out through records and told me..." I trailed off, unsure why I so desperately wanted him to believe that I had not always been nobility.

He held a hand up. "I'm not one of the Vigilant. It doesn't matter to me if you're a countess, a queen, or a barmaid." He tapped the sheet music under his arm. "I care more for a person's soul. What they feel and express. The music of their person."

Galina nearly rolled her eyes. "Yes, well, the world cares about a high position, and that means Countess Surikov is a very important and valuable friend of my Restoration. With her help, we might be able to salvage that 'soul' you talk so much about."

Andres nodded his head, but it almost seemed as if he was seeing something beyond what Galina said. She shifted, uncomfortable, and then sighed dramatically. "Well, if you won't mind, I need to dash off and meet one of the ministers of the treasuries about foreign aid funds that might be allocated to the Committee. Would you like to come with me, Countess?"

"Oh no," I blurted out before realizing how it would sound. I tried to laugh it off. "I think I'd only get in the way. I'm more of an artist than a businesswoman anyway."

Galina clicked her tongue, but perhaps Andres' presence made her reluctant to show her desperation if she tried to convince me. So, instead, she kissed my cheeks and whispered to me that she'd get in touch with more that I could do to help the Restoration. Then, she disappeared out the doors, headed into the city to fight for her cause. That left me alone with Andres in the aisle.

He leaned forward, his tan skin catching the glow of the sconces like an autumnal sunset. I hadn't noticed up until now, but he was very handsome. Not in the same way as Ferdinand- who was modern and dashing and very nearly beautiful- but instead in a more ancient way. Andres was rugged and carved, like a mountainside or powerful ocean waves. It was silly, but I smelled nature when he was around. Lakes and dusty fields and olive trees.

Thankfully, he didn't seem to catch me staring. "Would you mind helping me take a few things out to my taxi?" he asked. "I just came in to grab the props and costumes we left behind after last month's performance."

"Oh, of course," I said, before remembering to glance up toward Ferdinand. He was nodding along to something Mr. Gramercie was saying and pacing through the steps. He wouldn't miss me if I ducked out for a few minutes. At least, I hoped not.

Andres wasted no time in walking up the aisle and out into the foyer, where a small mountain of boxes waited for us against one wall. He glanced at me as we made our way toward it. "I hope you won't take offense at my asking you for help. The taxi driver charges double if he has to haul anything, and we're running on a shoestring budget."

I shook my head. "No, I'm happy to help."

Andres piled my arms with as many boxes as I could hold and still be able to see, and then he gathered up the rest in a haphazard tower. As he tottered ahead of me, I glanced down at my boxes and saw that they were filled with plain purple robes and busts of nondescript historical figures. Whatever dance they had done the last month, I couldn't guess the story from what I saw. Yet, still, I was intrigued. There were no pretty skirts or ribbons for the women, and no powerful military-style costumes for the men. The robes were bland and billowing, with nothing remarkable about them at all. I couldn't help but remember their strange rehearsal from before, where they'd seemed so different from anything I had done before.

By this time, Andres had kicked open the door and held it for me as I walked down the sidewalk toward a waiting carriage taxi. The man in the driver's seat stared at his horses' flicking ears, ignoring us as Andres opened the door and dumped the boxes onto one of the bench seats. He took mine, and they met the same fate.

"That's about it. Thanks for your help," he said, dusting off his hands. He grinned at me, and before I knew it, I'd opened my mouth.

"Your company... do you ever look for new dancers?"

He laughed and shrugged. "Hardly any ever are interested, so I can't really say. But, I suppose the answer would be yes."

"Would you mind if I tried out?" I asked, hardly believing what I was saying. This was not something I would do.

Still smiling, he tapped the side of his head. "You never need to try out for our company. We're not here to impress anyone or gain accolades. We're merely expressing ourselves and the world around us."

My heart pounded against my chest. Was I really thinking about joining a new company? I had miserably failed Mr. Gramercie's audition. How did I think I would be any better with Andres? I was about to humiliate myself again. And yet, I couldn't help but hold onto the idea that perhaps there was something different about this company.

The driver of the taxi barked at Andres to hurry up or be charged an extra fee, and so Andres swung himself up into the carriage and leaned out the window toward me. "If you're still interested, just come down to the theater tomorrow night. We'll be here, rehearsing. You don't need anything, just yourself." He lurched to the side as the carriage rumbled forward. "We'll look forward to seeing you there!"

I stared after him, wondering just what was about to happen. I hadn't said much, but somehow in the few words we'd shared, I'd just changed my life entirely. I was about to start dancing again, and that absolutely terrified me.