Bianca
The fiddle music was beautiful. Sweet and lively at the same time, the perfect sort of thing to move to and feel in your heart.
But for the first time in my life, I had no idea where to begin.
My eyes found Benjamin’s in the crowd, and he gave me an encouraging nod, but it didn’t help any. Every dance I had ever done at events had been perfectly choreographed and structured to suit the setting.
My father had ensured I had extensive dance lessons from the time I could walk—classical ballet, ballroom dancing, traditional court waltzes. Even at the Lycan palace, the dances were structured and had specific steps, focusing on tradition rather than emotion.
But this? Dancing from the heart? I didn’t know how to do that. I didn’t even know what it meant.
The crowd
