Then he would answer her in kind and show her the difference between reading steps and commanding them.
Ulrich changed.
The shift was slight at first, so slight that only someone already focused on him would have noticed. But Airam noticed at once. The pace of his movements deepened. The line of his body grew more demanding. He stopped allowing her those tiny openings where anticipation could become interference and began chaining each step into the next with less room between them, faster choices, harsher control.
Airam felt it immediately.
Her eyes widened a fraction.
Now she was the one forced to adjust.
If she failed, she would not merely annoy him. She would embarrass herself in front of the entire ballroom. In front of her beloved sisters.
Ulrich was stronger than she was. Faster too. And no matter how well instinct served her, he still had far more experience than she did. The gap between them remained real, however cleverly she tried to narrow it.
