Number five was the name she recognized, Olivin.
“May I cut in?” he asked number four smoothly, his Meru accent turning up the words just slightly enough to be effortlessly attractive.
“Of course.” Her previous dance partner excused himself with a polite smile and without so much as a second look back.
Olivin assumed his position. The song alternated between fast and slow steps. Movements she was certain she read in one of her books, but couldn’t remember with everything else weighing on her mind. Luckily, Olivin had no shortage of grace.
“You dance well.”
“You lie.” She gave him a tired grin.
Olivin’s black hair fell forward, threatening to get into his eyes as he tipped his head forward to meet her gaze. “You’ve been dancing around Risen’s politics and secrets since the first moment you stepped foot on our lands. Not an easy feat.”
Shadow or Pillar?He had to be a shadow if Deneya managed to get him to dance with her. Unless Olivin was a just a worthy noble Deneya had picked and secret Pillar.
“I do my best,” she said cautiously.
“So I’ve heard. Ducot told me your best could have spared us all below from that fiery night, if you’d been heeded.”Shadow, then. He leaned forward, tightening his arms around her as Eira dipped back. Olivin’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “Then again, you also threatened our existence and operation.”
“Do you admire me, or resent me?”
He swept her out to the side and waited until they came together to answer. “Oh, you have something far worse, Eira, than my admiration or resentment.”
“And what is that?” She was suddenly keenly aware of his hand sliding across the small of her back. Of how close they stepped now.
“My curiosity,” he said, whisper soft.
The surrealness of the situation finally hit her. Here she was, dancing in Lumera’s castle, in the capital of Meru, with an elfin man who was—by every traditional measure—achingly handsome. She was bait in a deadly game. She would outmaneuver a zealot and murder.
And yet, her mind kept wandering back to…
A tap on her shoulder. Olivin stepped away and Eira braced herself to be face-to-face with Ferro.
But Cullen was there instead, hand hovering, waiting, a face of worry and hope and bittersweet despair. “My lady, might I have the next dance?”
“Of course, my lord.” Eira heaved a sigh of relief. It was as though he materialized from her thoughts—from her raw need of him. She rested her hand lightly in Cullen’s and a jolt shot through her. Just his touch, the bare skin of his fingers sliding against hers, was enough to make the room spin. Her dress was suddenly too tight. She couldn’t get a breath in.
This was what she wanted, what she longed for. Her daydreams were no longer consumed by handsome elfin and Meru…but an Eastern man with intense hazel eyes and plain brown hair.
The music drifted into a slower waltz. Cullen took leisurely, large steps across the floor. Eira struggled to keep up with his wide strides.
“Sorry, I’m a bit lightheaded,” she said with a soft laugh. “Must be all the spinning.”
“May I do the dancing for you?” He arched his eyebrows, lips quirking.
“Pardon?”
His hand glided across the small of her back, pressing her closer to him. “Don’t panic, I have you,” he whispered over the shell of her ear.
Despite the warning, Eira let out a soft yelp of surprise as she stepped and her foot didn’t meet the ground. Cullen kept his grip on her, holding her steady, keeping her from stumbling. Her other foot landed on air as well and a strange, bubbling sensation filled her as she realized it was his magic underneath her feet, hidden by her skirts.
She danced on air. Effortlessly spinning and gliding across the floor with Cullen, overcome by a grace not made for mortals.
“You’re doing it for you too, aren’t you?” she asked.
He grinned, dangerously handsome in that moment. So dangerous she could kiss him in front of everyone if she wasn’t careful. “How do you think I learned to dance? Practice? No, this is all a show. The gowns, the clothes, take me across the world and nobility is all the same. A performance hammered into me by force.” His grip on her tightened slightly. A half turn and they were closer, hips flush. “But you, you’re the only thing that’s real here. You’re the only person that matters.”
She soared, and not just because of the air underneath her feet. The air in the room had been replaced with something lighter. His magic glided across her, within her. They moved together, just as they had done the night before, entangled in a very different dance.
