It wasn’t fair. Not only did Piety have a name that fooled everyone into thinking she was as angelic as she looked, she also moved across the ballroom floor like a willow in the breeze. Anya had heard her own dancing described as ‘efficient’ and ‘technically correct but…’ a few too many times to want …
All the guests had arrived, at least all the guests Anya’s parents deemed worthy of a personal greeting, and conversation bubbled across the ballroom, accented by the chink and ting of porcelain and crystal. The Fortescue family were known for the quality of both their chef and their cellar, and the visitors were making the …
The DNA of Stories 