When Ulrich took the first step, Esther nearly gasped.
It felt as though her body had moved on its own.
The sensation was strange, stranger than any practice she had ever done before. She had danced many times already with Elana, and with her sisters as well, and even when she was the one following, she had always felt as though some part of the movement still belonged to her. There had always been room to hesitate, to correct herself, to choose how quickly she adjusted.
With Ulrich, however, it felt certainly different.
One of his hands rested gently at her upper back. The other held her right hand with controlled hold. Those were his only points of contact, and yet through them he seemed to govern everything, the pace of her steps, the angle of her turns, the exact moment her feet should shift and close. He was not merely dancing with her.
He was leading her.
Esther had thought that might frighten her more.
For the first few breaths, it did.
