Expatria: The Box Set Read Online Free PDF Page A

overpowering in their intensity.
    Mathias breathed deeply as he strolled around the edge of the dance floor. Edward was there, of course, and then Mathias spotted Greta standing nearby. Her gown was fine and loose, her hair woven high and away from her face. She was laughing and looking all around. Mathias wondered how long her high spirits would last.
    Edward had an arm around a solemn, black-maned girl—that kind of intimacy was more accepted on an occasion such as this—but he was looking longingly at Greta. She had always been one of the obstacles between Mathias and his half-brother, another spur to Edward's envy.
    Mathias stepped into Edward's line of vision and then moved towards Greta, hoping that things would be all right.
    She saw him, she smiled, she held her hands towards him. It was as if there had never been a rift. She kissed the air in greeting and held out a glass for him. He took it and drank, noticing nothing but Greta. 'I'm late,' he said, but she shrugged. Tonight was no night for apology, tonight was the night of Dumandee, tonight was the night of the ball.
    The music began to swell and fall away, swell and fall away, and, feeling supremely confident, Mathias gathered Greta into his arms and guided her on to the dance floor. Her body was small and brittle against his own. She smelt of fresh honeysuckle. Mathias had never held her so close for so long, their chaperone had always coughed discreetly and then not so discreetly. In the crowd of dancers they had more privacy than they had ever had alone.
    The music changed and still they danced, moving faster, closer. Over Greta's golden head, Mathias saw Edward slipping away with the long-faced girl.
    They danced faster, closer, pressing urgently together. Mathias bent to whisper in Greta's tiny ear. 'Greta, shall we—' But she was whispering in his , and her words stopped him in mid-sentence.
    'The Prime spoke to me today,' she said. 'He asked how my father would react if Edward became heir to—'
    'He what? ' People nearby stopped dancing to look.
    'He didn't mean... It was only if you...' Greta looked around at the staring faces and then dropped her head and tried to move back into Mathias's arms. ' Matti , not here. I'm sorry.'
    But she had said too much already. Mathias barged his way across the dance floor. His father was standing with Lucilla Ngota, just inside the balcony that overlooked the Playa Cruzo.
    Mathias grabbed the Prime's shoulder and pulled him round. ' What do you mean ...? Then he remembered who he was mishandling and stopped, stunned by the force of his rage.
    The Prime had gone pale, but his control was total. Mathias stepped back, then turned and ran through the shocked gathering. As he ran out of the hail the music faltered back into the silence and then a few voices came back too. In the corridor he saw Edward grinning cruelly, his companion nowhere in sight. Then he saw no more, everything a blur as he ran along the empty corridors and out into the night.
    ~
    The streets of Newest Delhi were alive with partying crowds and a strange, new tension was caught up in the air.
    March was trying, clumsily, to get at him through Greta—that much was obvious once Mathias was alone and more calm, walking through the darkened back streets. He was using the threat of naming Edward his heir to try to force Mathias to conform. But, instead, it had brought the old impetuosity back to the surface.
    He stopped thinking and tried to become a part of the darkness. It was a game he had played as a child: ignore the thoughts that keep jumping into your head and try to melt into the night, or the sea, or the cliffs, try to feel yourself a part of the world.
    It worked for a time: his mind forgot itself as his body grew calm and tranquil.
    He was feeling sedate when partying noises broke through his barriers and reminded him of himself. He was on the Lincolnstrasse, in the poorer part of the city, where serfs lived alongside lowly engineers. The