Finally they moved on to the ballroom and formed a receiving line to greet guests as they arrived. The Gray Wolves were off duty now. Raisa had ordered that they attend as guests instead of bodyguards.

“Talia!” Raisa embraced the grinning guard, who had arrived with Pearlie. At last, somebody she wanted to see. “It’s so good to see you up and around.”

“Captain Byrne, he says I won’t be able to laze about much longer,” Talia said, her voice low and rough but understandable. “I’m back on duty tomorrow. Thanks to you, Your Highness.” Talia squeezed Raisa tight and then backed away as Pearlie looked on, tears standing in her eyes.

Cat came through the line with Dancer. He wore a clan coat of the finest deerskin, beaded and embroidered with flash symbols and small talismans—a kind of magical armor.

Cat kept a possessive hold on Dancer’s arm, eyeing the brilliantly plumaged guests uneasily. She was on duty in the ballroom. And still edgy among bluebloods.

Han passed through the line alone. He bowed low to kiss Raisa’s hand. She felt the quick pressure of his hot hand as he murmured, “Your Highness.”

Amon arrived with his fiancée, Annamaya, who looked resplendent, practically glowing in canary-colored silk. And all of the Bayars, a study in black and white.

Reid Nightwalker came by himself also, though Raisa guessed he was unlikely to leave unaccompanied. Though some women in the Vale wouldn’t consider walking out with a copperhead, others found his deadly reputation and exotic good looks intriguing.

Nightwalker was among the first on Raisa’s dance card, and he requested one of the vigorous clan dances, which left Raisa flushed and breathless and weak in the knees. It wasn’t easy to carry off in a ball gown.

After, he fetched her a glass of wine. “You dance like a clan princess,” he said, nodding in approval. “I had hoped you might wear clan dress tonight.”

“We’ll celebrate in the camps as well, after the coronation ceremony tomorrow,” Raisa promised. “My father and grandmother are planning it. And I’ll dress for the occasion then. This is more of a flatland party, after all.”

“I’ll look forward to having you to myself, Briar Rose,” Nightwalker said. He leaned closer. “It is good to see one of clan blood on the throne of the Fells.” He bowed, then turned and crossed the dance floor toward his waiting admirers.

After that it was one dance after another, each time with a new partner. It seemed that Raisa was expected to dance with every important male guest at least once. Many of them tromped on her toes, being unfamiliar with northern dances.

Too bad I can’t dance with two at a time, Raisa thought, and get through this more quickly.

Micah surfaced midway through her list. She had to admit, it was a pleasure dancing with him after so much wrong-footedness.