The Loria coastline glowed in the light of the setting sun. The sky was awash of pastel hues that shimmered on the water. In the heart of the city on a rise sat the palace, white marble that reflected a prism of sunset colors. The city was an emblem of prosperity and authority. An emblem that Isla had been staring at for the last two days.

Isla left like a caged animal as she watched the sun sinking deeper into the horizon. She balled her fists and took in a deep breath, but her chest was tight and she couldn't get in enough air. She heard a knock on her door but said nothing. After a second, the door opened.

"Captain Zev," Hawk said.

Isla didn't take her gaze off the palace, the center of their hope and freedom.

"It's too risky."

The door shut. "The men know the price and accept it."

"We could find another way."

"We have thought of that, the chance that this is our only opportunity is too great."

Isla dug her fingers into her palm, she knew this. They had spent countless days analyzing every option and this was the best one. And even it was filled with so many unknowns that Isla could almost hear the clanging of a prison cell door.

"If we do not act now then we might never be free," Hawk said.

There was no argument to this. It was why he had said it, Isla knew. She spun around to face him. He wore a servant's uniform of a high collared shirt, trim trousers, and shiny boots. It was one of the reasons they hadn't acted right away, the uniforms had needed to be bought.

In that time, Isla was forced to sit with their decision. When every form of distraction had been talked over and eventually thrown out they had been left with the one Isla never wanted to use, but was the only one that they had.

It was the reason she had been trapped in her cabin.

It was the reason that two servant girls had been hired to pin up her hair and paint her face.

It was the reason that she was in a maroon dress with a tight bodice that left her shoulders bare.

It was the reason she would walk into the palace on Raif's arm.

She was the distraction.

Isla closed her eyes flexing her fingers and curled them again. "I can't do this."

Beneath the silken skirt of the gown, her legs were bare. It felt as if she were completely naked. Exposed. Vulnerable.

"I believe these might help," Hawk said.

When she opened her eyes, Isla saw that he was holding out two sheathed daggers. The sight of them calmed a bit of her fraying nerves. Pulling out one of the chairs from the table, she set her foot on the seat and raised the edge of her dress, displaying the soft dancing slippers on her feet. They were delicate, would barely survive a light mist let alone a storm and Isla hated them. She took one of the daggers and strapped it to her leg. As she was switching to her other leg, a knock came.

"Come in," she said, threading the leather strap through the buckle.

The door opened and Raif stepped inside but froze. Isla glanced over at him as his gaze traveled from the artfully curled tendrils of hair framing her face to her shoulders down her body to her exposed leg.

"What?" she snapped at him.

Raif grinned at her. "Always pleasant to know your temperament hasn't changed even if your clothes have."

After their kiss on the deck, Raif had been more comfortable with teasing her. Instead of irritating her, his jests amused her as well as the number of times she would look to him and find he was already watching her.

Isla returned to her task, securing the dagger to her leg. Finished, she dropped her hem and took a few experimental steps. The daggers didn't show beneath the skirt and Isla was calmed by their familiar weight. She looked at Raif and found him leaning against the wall, taking in the view.

"What did you want?" she asked.

"I wanted to let you know that we should leave after the sun sets, it will guarantee that everyone will already be in attendance."

"Very well."

When Raif didn't leave at the clear dismissal, Isla glared at him. He opened his mouth, but rethought his decision and slipped back into the corridor. Breathing in slowly, Isla pressed her hands into the desk top, staring at the sky, needing the sun to never leave. But it continued to fade until there was nothing but a soft outline of the city.

"Hawk..." She twisted around, the edge of the dress fluttering with the motion.

"Did you know, you look like your mother?" he said.

The uncertainty, doubt, fear that Isla was about to say was stilled. "Really?"

Hawk laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Yes. And like her, you are strong and fearless."

"She was a barmaid."

"Who faced hundreds of men daily who were ten times stronger than her and never backed down. She would be so proud of you. As would your father be." He smiled. "As I am proud of you."

The sun winked out and the cabin darkened. Isla placed her hand over Hawk's, squeezing it in gratitude. Hawk held the door for her and she strode out, lifting the edge of her dress as she climbed the stairs. When she emerged on deck the chatter of the men fell silent. Shock froze them.

"Captain," Sparrow said. "You look..." Isla narrowed her eyes. "Deadly."

The crew burst into laughter, breaking the spell. As the men picked up their conversations once again, Orin, Brockton, and Loch all stepped forward. They wore the same uniform as Hawk, each man filling it out in an impressive way. Behind them, lounging against the railing was Raif outfitted in a manner that befit his station. He rose and crossed to her, holding out his arm.

When Isla accepted it, the men quieted again. She gazed out on them, drawing strength from the trust she saw in their eyes.

"Be ready to leave when we return," she said.

They all straightened and nodded. Raif and Isla led the small parade down the gangway. Waiting on the docks was a gilded carriage with four black horses standing at attention. As Hawk and Orin took up positions on the rear of the carriage, Loch and Brockton climbed up to the front, Brockton taking charge of the reins. Raif held out his hand for Isla, offering assistance into the carriage. For appearance's sake, she took it. The interior of the carriage was made up of deep blue velvet and scented with roses.

A whip cracked and the carriage bumped forward. Isla peered out the window as they cut away from the port. The city was draped in banners of golden full moons and rainbow streamers in celebration for the Full Moon Festival, the marker of a new year.

The journey to the palace was made slow by the crowded streets, packed with revelers. Two men jostled each other outside a bakery, wear the grins of long time friends. Laughter mingled with pipe smoke filled the air. A group of barefooted children curved their way their a forest of legs calling out to each other. From open doorways, the sweetness of sugary cakes overlapped with the buttery scent of beer wandered into the streets. From somewhere off the boisterous strains of music swirled through the night.

Isla leaned back against the soft cushion, wishing this was their destination rather than the palace. She breathed deeply but was all too aware of how her chest pressed against the constraints of her bodice and rose. Irritated, she took the front of her dress and tried to adjust it upwards. Raif cleared his throat.

"I would not advise doing that in Court, some might see it as an invitation to look."

Startled, Isla shot him a sharp glare. Raif smiled back at her, fixedly staring at her face and her face alone.

"Have you ever worn a dress before?" he asked.

Isla turned her focus away from him, watching as a giddy maid bounced down the sidewalk trailed by two companions.

"Yes. Once. For my mother's Burning."

The memory was a distant blur, but the vulnerability and loss she had felt that day were as fresh as ever.

"Ah, I can see why you would never want to wear one again."

Isla met his eyes, surprised by his understanding. Raif leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees which brushed against Isla's.

"Though I risk losing some vital part of myself, I must say this now, you are beautiful, Isla."

Isla stared at him but didn't allow him to see how the comment pleased her. Raif raised his eyebrows.

"There is no knife at my throat, are you going soft on me?"

Isla scowled causing Raif to laugh. "That reminds me of a point we must solve. You can not go through the Court looking as if you want to stab everyone."

"I will not smile and simper for these people."

Raif held up his hand in a placating gesturing. "I understand that. But you will need to look less hostile." Isla tried to relax her face, but it still felt tense. "Try to think of something pleasant. A memory perhaps."

At the suggestion, Isla skimmed through all the good memories she had with her father. But there was something about them that still held sadness for there were no new memories to make. She snagged on a memory that wasn't mixed with grief.

Raif held out his hand to her. "Dancing is about trust."

Raif and Isla stood on the deck of the ship. The heat of the day was cut by a steady breeze. Hawk and Orin were at the helm while the rest of the crew lounged around the main deck, watching the proceedings with blatant amusement. Isla crossed her arms.

"I don't trust anyone at Court," she said.

"As you shouldn't," Raif said. "But in this one instance, you must. Now."

He reached his hand out further to her. Isla didn't budge making the crew laugh.

"You can do this, Isla," Bin said.

It was one of the few times she had heard her name spoken by one of the crew since her father died and she realized how much she had missed it. When she looked at Bin, where he rested against the stairs to the quarterdeck, he nodded at her encouragingly.

Gathering her determination, Isla laid her hand in Raif's. He tugged her closer, sliding one arm around her waist. She dropped her free hand to his shoulder and he smiled.

"Dancing is like sword fighting," he said. Isla didn't conceal her skepticism. "It is. There are moves and countermoves. In a fight, if I were to step like this," he took one step forward and Isla retreated. "Exactly, you would take a step back. But if I were to step this way." When he stepped backward, his arm around her gently pulled her and Isla took the opening to step forward. "See, simple."

He went through the two-step process again, Isla following his lead. "It is like fighting but instead of trying to stab your opponent you are merely trying to stay in close quarters with them."

The men laughed at this and Isla softened her rigid posture, feeling herself relax into Raif's hold. As he guided her around, she felt how her injured leg strengthened with the motion, loosening. When he steered her into a slow rotation, she faltered and bumped into his chest. He grinned.

"That happens and no man will find it unpleasant." She glared at him which widened his smile. "As in sword fighting, you must adapt to your surroundings, circling when your opponent wants to throw you off your guard, that it is what this is."

Raif repeated the rotating motion and this time Isla was able to follow his lead without incident. Around her the men applauded. Sparrow jumped from his perch on a barrel.

"I want to learn," he said.

Before Raif could offer a reply, Bin hauled himself up and waved the boy forward.

"Come here, lad, I'll show you."

To Isla's surprise, Bin gripped one of Sparrow's shoulders and directed him in a simple four-step pattern. Bin glanced at Isla and shook his head, chuckling.

"You didn't think Mara and I only sat around all the time, did you?"

Since becoming captain, Isla had barely thought of how Bin and his wife spent their time, but knowing that dancing was part of their enjoyment somehow made her own process of learning easier. Raif held Isla closer her, drawing her back to him.

"This time as we dance, you won't stare at your feet." Isla tensed. "Do you trust me?"

The answer was easy. Yes. He had earned her trust bit by bit until she knew that if it were only them in a fight she would never worry what side he would fight on. It would be hers.

Nodding, she kept her eyes locked with his. He stepped back and she followed. As they continued through the dance, she found herself attuned to his arm wrapped around her, feeling as it shifted one way when he was moving into a circle and pressed against her when he was retreating a step. It was like learning the subtleties of the ocean.

They spent the day like that, Heath bringing out his lute when Raif said Isla was ready. When one song melted into the next, Bin cut in and dancing with Isla, his movement more self-assured. Brockton was next to replace Bin, explaining how his mother had taught him when he was a boy. Next was Loch who had a gentler touch, telling her how he met his wife at a festival and they had danced until dawn.

The hours drifted away as Isla learned aspects of the crew she hadn't known before.

"That memory," Raif said, pulling Isla back into the interior of the carriage. "Hold on to that one." Isla blinked as if coming out of a daze. He cocked his head. "What were you thinking of?"

When Isla didn't reply right away, Raif reached out and brushed his thumb over the corner of her mouth. She stilled at his soft touch.

"You almost had a smile."

Isla backed away and Raif dropped his hand. "Whatever you were thinking, keep it in mind and you'll be fine."

After a hesitation, she spoke. "I was thinking about you teaching me to dance."

Raif peered out on the passing city, smiling to himself.

When the carriage came to a halt, Isla stiffened. A deep voice spoke and she heard Brockton's murmured reply. A second later, a guard appeared at the window. Raif dipped his head in greeting.

"Duke Sayers," the guard said, surprised. He bowed. "It's a pleasure to see you again."

"Thank you."

The guard shouted out a command and the carriage passed through the gates onto the palace grounds. In the white light of the moon, Isla could make out a sprawling landscape of gardens and hedges. The scent of jasmine perfumed the night.

As they got closer to the palace, Isla could see that lanterns had been lit and hung from posts throughout the gardens, illuminating paths. The tickling of water, from a three-tiered fountain, floated over the sounds of hooves as the carriage entered a courtyard.

Isla stared at the palace's oak doors, unable to move. Raif took her hand making her jerk back.

"I was merely giving you these," he said, holding out a pair of satin maroon gloves.

Isla slid them on, covering up her calluses. They weren't the only aspects of her that had needed to be concealed. The servant girls they had hired had also painted parts of Isla's arms and shoulders, hiding scars.

The door to the carriage was opened by Orin and Raif stepped down, turning back for Isla. Steeling herself, she gripped his hand and descended. Raif placed her hand in the crook of his elbow, leading her up the steps to the palace doors which swung inward.

Before Isla crossed the threshold, she glanced back. Hawk met her gaze and gave a single nod, then he was hidden as the doors were shut behind her. Music, laughter, and voices drew Isla and Raif across the lavish foyer to another set of doors inlaid with the royal family's crest and guarded by two men.

Isla felt her heart beating faster in her chest as the guards pulled the doors open. The volume of celebration rose and washed over her as they passed through. Waiting on the other side was a gray-haired man with a staff.

As Raif whispered to the man, Isla took in the scene before her. It was a swirl of color as nobles danced and drifted from one group to the next. On a lower platform off to a side was a quartet infusing the ballroom with a lilting tune. Across the way lay a raised dais where the King, Queen, Prince and his new Princess were already seated.

As Raif straightened, the man with the staff stepped forward and with two quick movements, he thumped his staff against the floor. The music quieted and voices lowered.

"Duke Raif Sayers," the man announced. "And Lady Isabella of Lithia."

Isla gripped Raif's arm as hundreds of eyes fell on her.

**********************************************************************

If you like pain, try wearing a corset.
(Wow, Elizabeth very on point with the chapter)

Now...ISLA IS IN A DRESS!!! AHHHH!!! WHAT IS THIS MADNESS!?!? YOU'RE FREAKING OUT WITH ME RIGHT?? 🗯💬💭💃🏼

*takes a deep breathe* It's cool, I'm calm, super calm. AHH! 🤭 Sorry it just slipped out. I'm cool now. (Well not cool per se because you know I'm to odd to really be cool but cool in the sense that I'm...🤦🏽‍♀️ you get me, I'm gonna stop)

Haha just kidding! I'm not gonna stop! No, instead I'm gonna tell you a secret. I really never planned for Isla to wear a dress. It felt cliché to me. But the more I thought over the heist and how they would need a distraction it was the only thing that worked.

But let's face it, I'm not complaining! Now we get to see Isla take on the ladies of the Court! 💃🏼💪🤜👸🏼👩🏼
😏 So this should be good!

One more side note: I didn't know if I'd like having the flashbacks in the book but then when it hit the one of Raif teaching Isla to dance it seemed to complete everything because shows how Isla is finally moving on. Her memories are fresh ones! I thought that was kinda cool ☺️

Now! Kapitlets spørsmål (Norwegian): If you were to go to a ball what famous person would you want to be your date?

My answer: Micheal B. Jordan. He's cute, looks good in a tux and I don't know why but I get the feeling he'd be a true gentleman.

And no, I can't take Grant Gustin cause he has a wife and I respect the seriousness of marriage.

Vote for glittering worlds, comment on the most beautiful gowns, follow me cause you know an adventure is coming!

Isla's dress would roughly be this but I saw it made out a silk and not chiffon.