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    Viola Grace
     
    her and the gait and posture rippled in her mind.
    The men all had long black hair threaded with tiny gold bands, a gilt mask that framed black eyes and let the full curve of his lips catch the eye of the women facing him. Hellara couldn’t stare long at the face before the impressive structure of the body got her attention and she was drawn to the elegant vest barely containing a massive chest, arrowing her gaze down to the wide belt and the bulge visible in his snug trousers beneath it. His boots were tight, black and had a high polish. Each and every male was dressed precisely the same.
    From her vantage point, she counted one male for every two females. She hid behind the post and watched each male take a female to the dance floor, he danced with her twice and then returned her to the group, taking another female in his arms.
    It was surreal to watch the same man dancing with different women at the same time, but that was what she was seeing.
    Her stomach rumbled, but she didn’t want to expose herself to the attentions of the men. She couldn’t sit in the dress she had been given, so she leaned against the pillar and tried to not think of the food that was just out of her reach.
    After two hours of watching the dancers she decided that the path was safe. When the men were all dancing with partners for a fresh round, Hellara darted out and daintily snagged a few tidbits from the table as well as a glass of wine 6
     
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    before returning to her hiding place.
    The servants manning the table had seemed friendly, so she did not think that they would tell on her.
    She was just licking her fingers clean when a shadow fell across her hand. Swallowing nervously, she looked up into the eyes of one of the males. “The Overlord, I presume?” He held out his hand and she finished licking her right hand, giving him her left. His gaze had fixated on her tongue as she removed the last of the cream. She watched him visibly shudder and jerk as he got control over himself.
    As he led her to the floor, she whispered, “I don’t know how to dance.”
    “Leave it to me.” His voice was low and amused. The full lips quirked and he stood on the side of the dance floor, holding her tightly against every inch she had been admiring from a distance.
    It was quite a few inches if her guess was any estimation.
    He shifted forward and she jumped back in reflex, but with his hand on her waist and the other holding her right hand, she had no choice but to stay plastered to him. He moved again and she got out of his way and after a few more of those moves, she realized that they were dancing.
    He spun her around and around, each step letting the heat from his body soak into hers.
    “Aren’t we supposed to talk or something?” She 7
     
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    bit her lip as the second song began and he led her in a different pattern.
    “What do you wish to talk about?”
    “Why am I here?”
    His lips quirked again. “Is that a philosophical question or geographical?”
    “Situational.”
    “Ah. As Overlord of Prinzik there is a need to select a consort. With a limited population, all women of the surrounding sector in the precise age range have been brought here, once a year for this date. Three nights, three balls and if you are not chosen, you may go home.”
    He whirled her and she clutched at him for stability. She didn’t remember this kind of acrobatic movement with the other dancers.
    When the song ended, he didn’t release her.
    “What are you doing? Two dances and you are supposed to let me go.”
    “I don’t want to. None of the others even dared speak to me, let alone question me. That makes you unique.” He smiled again, and it was not a good smile.
    “Fine, why are some of the women terrified?”
    “Ah, if they are in the area of influence, they had no choice but to come here for this day, as has been happening for over a decade. They come, they dance, they return