Episode 13: The Dance Card
950 Words
The week flew by.
Before Amara knew it, Friday evening had arrived.
The Founders’ Gala was only an hour away.
Lily stood in the middle of their dorm room with her hands on her hips.
“Turn around.”
“I already did.”
“Again.”
Amara laughed but obeyed.
The midnight-blue gown shimmered softly under the room’s warm light.
“You look…” Lily placed a hand over her heart. “…illegal.”
“Illegal?”
“Like you should warn people before looking that beautiful.”
Amara rolled her eyes, though her cheeks warmed.
“Stop exaggerating.”
“I’m doing the opposite.”
A knock interrupted them.
A student volunteer stood outside holding a white envelope.
“For Miss Amara Cole.”
“Thank you.”
The girl hurried away before Amara could ask anything else.
Inside the envelope was a cream-colored card embossed with the university crest.
Miss Amara Cole,
Your escort will meet you at the Grand Staircase at 6:45 p.m.
Dress Code: Formal.
At the bottom, written in elegant handwriting, was one extra sentence.
Please save the first dance for me.
There was no signature.
Lily squealed.
“Oh my goodness!”
“Kael wrote that!”
Amara read it again.
“You don’t know that.”
“Who else would?”
She smiled despite herself.
“Maybe it’s just part of the event.”
“That is absolutely not part of the event.”
Still…
She carefully slipped the card back into the envelope instead of throwing it away.
⸻
Across campus, Kael adjusted the cuffs of his black tuxedo.
Ronan circled him once.
“You clean up well.”
“It’s a tuxedo.”
“It’s the man wearing it.”
Kael sighed.
“You’ve been unbearable all week.”
“And you’ve been pretending you’re not looking forward to tonight.”
“I’ve attended this gala every year.”
“Not with Amara.”
Kael didn’t answer.
Ronan grinned.
“I’ll take that silence as confirmation.”
Before leaving, Ronan paused at the door.
“Oh, one more thing.”
“What now?”
“If you compliment her…”
“Try not to sound like you’re reading a business report.”
⸻
The Grand Hall glowed beneath crystal chandeliers.
A string quartet played softly while students arrived in elegant gowns and tailored suits.
Faculty members greeted guests at the entrance.
The atmosphere was effortless luxury.
Amara stepped inside and immediately felt out of place.
Everyone looked as though they belonged in a fashion magazine.
She suddenly became very aware of her simple dress.
Maybe it wasn’t elegant enough after all.
Maybe—
“You came.”
She turned.
Kael stood at the foot of the Grand Staircase.
For a moment…
Neither of them spoke.
Kael had seen countless beautiful women at university galas.
None of them prepared him for Amara.
The midnight-blue dress.
The loose curls framing her face.
The nervous smile she tried to hide.
She looked…
Beautiful.
Dangerously beautiful.
“You look…” he began.
Ronan’s advice echoed in his head.
Don’t sound like a business report.
Kael smiled.
“…like everyone’s about to forget why they came tonight.”
Amara blinked.
Then laughed.
“That’s quite a compliment.”
“It wasn’t enough.”
His voice was quiet.
“But it’ll have to do.”
She felt her cheeks grow warm.
“You don’t look bad yourself.”
“Not bad?”
He raised an eyebrow.
“I was trying to return the compliment.”
“You can do better.”
She laughed again.
“Fine.”
“You look… unfairly handsome.”
“Better.”
Their eyes met.
For a heartbeat, the crowded ballroom seemed to disappear.
⸻
“Ladies and gentlemen.”
The Master of Ceremonies stepped onto the stage.
“As tradition requires, each Student Council escort will lead their guest onto the dance floor for the opening waltz.”
Amara’s smile vanished.
“Waltz?”
“You didn’t know?”
“I don’t know how to waltz.”
She looked horrified.
“I’m going to embarrass both of us.”
“No.”
Kael held out his hand.
“You won’t.”
“I’ve never danced before.”
“Then trust me.”
She looked at his outstretched hand.
Slowly…
She placed hers in it.
His fingers closed gently around hers.
Warm.
Steady.
Safe.
As the orchestra began to play, Kael guided her onto the polished dance floor.
“Left foot,” he murmured.
She immediately stepped on his shoe.
“Oh no!”
“I’m so sorry.”
He looked down at his polished black shoe.
Then back at her.
“I’ll survive.”
She covered her face with her free hand.
“This is a disaster.”
“It isn’t.”
“You’ve injured your escort within five seconds.”
A quiet laugh escaped him.
“I’ve had worse meetings.”
Despite herself, she laughed too.
With every step, she relaxed.
She stopped watching her feet.
Instead…
She looked at him.
And Kael realized something dangerous.
Holding her this close felt…
Right.
Far too right.
⸻
From across the ballroom, Serena watched them dance.
Her smile never reached her eyes.
She turned to the waiter standing beside her and slipped him a folded note.
“Deliver this to Miss Cole.”
The waiter nodded and disappeared into the crowd.
Serena took a sip of champagne.
“Let’s see how graceful you are now.”
Unaware of the trap closing around her, Amara smiled as Kael spun her gently across the dance floor.
Neither of them noticed the waiter approaching.
Or the glass of red wine balanced carefully on his tray.
- Writer
