I guided Malva toward the dance floor. My hand rested lightly at her waist. I held her left hand in mine. Soft music filled the hall.
Malva was stiff at first. Her fingers held mine tight and formal. She didn't look at the other couples. She didn't look at the lanterns above. Her dark eyes stayed fixed on the center of my chest. She watched every small move I made.
"Stop thinking so hard about the steps," I said quietly. I guided her through a simple turn as the music picked up. "You're treating a dance like a fight."
"Because it requires good awareness to not crash into other people," Malva said, her voice flat. I pulled her into a graceful spin. "And these shoes Lyra picked have no grip."
"They're dress shoes, Malva. They're not made for running on walls." I shifted my weight and led her into a wider spin. We moved toward the outer edge of the floor. "Just follow my shoulder. If you mess up, I'll catch you. You don't have to think about every step."
