Heena walked slowly toward the center of the Great Hall, the heavy, champagne-colored silk of her robes trailing behind her like liquid gold. She stopped directly in the middle of the jade floor, the golden light of the chandeliers illuminating her sharp, striking features.
She did not signal the royal musicians to play. Instead, she looked around the silent, expectant room.
"This might be a dance," Heena's voice rang out, clear and steady, "but it is also an untold story. One that I believe no one in this hall has ever heard."
She turned her back slightly on the civil officials and looked directly at the Vanguard tables. A profound, shared understanding passed between her and the scarred, hardened men of her family.
"But you might have," Heena said softly to the generals. "And because this is not a dance I can perform alone, I will, of course, need your support."
