Agnes
I wiped a bead of sweat from my forehead as the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting golden rays across the ballroom floor. We had been at this for hours, and still, the feather kept fluttering to the ground like a mocking little bird.
“Again,” Rosa commanded sharply, tapping her foot impatiently.
I sighed, picking up the feather once more. “This is impossible,” I muttered under my breath.
Elijah arched an eyebrow. “Giving up already?”
I shot him a weary glance. “Not all of us are naturally graceful.”
“I seem to recall you dancing quite well at the Mate Trial,” he said matter-of-factly.
“That was different,” I retorted. “There wasn’t a feather involved.”
Nor had we just kissed like our lives depended on it, I thought, but I didn’t say that out loud. At
