“They had lost two weeks of dance lessons over that Great Rosebush and Snowball Scandal.”

“We can go without dancing and things a little longer.""Especially since our Great Slipper Scandal quickened the undead and nearly destroyed the palace," said Bramble. "It put us off dancing for at least an hour.”

“A muffled voice startled them both."When are you going to kiss her?"They pulled away. In the ballroom windows, noses and hands pressed against the glass, were the girls. They stood among the prickly rosebushes, beaming wicked little grins. Delphinium and Eve whispered and giggled to each other; Bramble wore a magnificent grin on her face and a spark of light in her yellow-green eyes.Another figure stood among them. This one had his arms folded across his chest, stiff and firm and formal......Yet he did not look displeased.”

“It had been two weeks since they had last danced, and Azalea lay in bed, awake again. A dream hadn't roused her this time, but rather an odd tinny noise that had been clinking across the wooden floor of their room, under their beds and butting against the wainscot with a clinkety tap-tap. It sounded like ... well, quite honestly, it sounded like a spider dragging a spoon.Azalea knew it couldn't possibly be that (or, rather, she hoped it wasn't), but even so, she heaved herself from the bed and grasped one of Hollyhock's boots, strewn across the floor. The tapping now clinked from the fireplace, and Azalea caught a glint of silver among the soot. Raising the boot, she tiptoed to the unlit hearth.The fireplace in their room was massive - so large that Azalea could stand up in it and her skirts wouldn't brush the sides. The silver hopped. Azalea dove.In a puff of soot, Azalea found herself sitting in the hearth, and the silver bit skittering away like mad. Azalea grabbed at it and was rewarded with a very sharp, very familiar bite."You!" Azalea seethed, leaping up. Now she recognized the half-hopping half-skitter motion. The sugar teeth!”

“Tell Tutor I won't be to lessons," she said. "Invent some sort of disease.”

“He was shockingly easy to follow. The pressure of his hand, the step of his foot, the angle of his frame... it was like reading his mind. When he leaned right, they turned in perfect unison. He swept her across the gallery in a quick three, a dizzying pace. Gilded frames and glass cases and the window blurred in her vision, and Azalea spun out, her skirts pulling and poofing around her, before he caught her and brought her back into dance position. She could almost hear music playing, swelling inside of her.Mother had once told her about this perfect twining into one. She called it interweave, and said it was hard to do, for it took the perfect matching of the partners’ strengths to overshadow each other’s weaknesses, meshing into one glorious dance. Azalea felt the giddiness of being locked in not a pairing, but a dance. So starkly different than dancing with Keeper. Never that horrid feeling that she owed him something; no holding her breath, wishing for the dance to end. Now, spinning from Mr. Bradford’s hand, her eyes closed, spinning back and feeling him catch her, she felt the thrill of the dance, of being matched, flow through her.”Heavens, you’re good!” said Azalea, breathless.”You’re stupendous,” said Mr. Bradford, just as breathless. “It’s like dancing with a top!”

“You cannot dance up there," he said, quietly. "I can see you are in mourning. But you are welcome to dance here, among the magic. Please. Come and mend you broken hearts here. Come back, every night.”