“You should know,” Kieran started as they entered the throng of guests, “your presence here will draw notice. Especially arriving with me.”
“Oh, right. The human thing.” Her grip tightened a bit on his arm, and he set his other hand gently on hers, her muscles instantly relaxing. It was not a gesture he was used to making, soothing others with touch, but with her it had happened almost mechanically. Naturally. He kept his breathing steady and forced himself not to dwell on the implications. Not now, when he intended for her to have an enjoyable evening.
“It won’t be negative attention. These sorts of arrangements are no longer frowned upon. But I’m afraid someone must be first. I thought the union of Lord Drake and Miss Wilde would be enough, but given Drake’s rather unconventional bid for his title, they have remained on the outer fringes of society.”
Sera nodded, fingers still flexing lightly against his sleeve. “But us, on the other hand, would be pretty significant,” she said.
“It is not too late for you to enter without me. All I need to do is take a step back and allow you to be introduced alone.You are under no obligation to enter on my arm, as such an entrance would be making a rather pointed insinuation about our connection.”
His eyes cast sideways. They took another step forward. He would not blame her for leaving his side, but he was shocked to find that he did hope…
“No. I don’t care about that. Let them assume whatever the hell they want. You invited me here, you’re the only reason I even get to do this, and I’m not abandoning you simply because people might stare.”
Kieran swallowed, his exhale almost faltering as relief washed away the tension of waiting for her answer. He could feel a smile forming, and this time, he did not fight it.
Guests queued for introductions and provided invitations—a ball was defined as much by those excluded as those invited. He found the lingering human sentiment elitist, but that was the game and he merely a player. This one, however, was not a game he enjoyed so much as tolerated. There were other games that he recently discovered to be pleasantly diverting. Games that, even now, in idle thought sent thrill rippling through his body.
Kieran attempted to regain his focus and not lose stride.
This was the last night he would have with Sera, or at least, very nearly the last. The socialites here would assume they were courting or perhaps nearing an understanding, but that was far from the case. They had no understanding beyond mutual desire. Sera was not likely to stay with him once her freedom was secured. Certainly, Cole’s time was measured. Soon there would be nothing tying them together, no reason for her to linger in his house despite his invitation to stay as long as she needed. His job offer would put them in work proximity, but with her personality and no need to specifically seek him out, their rapport was not likely to continue.
The idea of her leaving left him more disquieted than he previously anticipated. Several weeks ago, he would have been elated to see the end of his forced association with Seraphina—the woman who left riotous upheaval in her wake.
An attendant offered to take her coat and Kieran helped her slip her arms free of the sleeves, passing it along. He might have removed his own coat, if it were not considered improper, for just a little relief. Resigned to suffer the temperatures, as he always did, Kieran’s attention was drawn to movement in the mirrors lining one side of the hall for guests to check that their appearance was above reproach. To the sight of Sera twirling in the candlelight.
She was radiant. Pale pink silk melted with her movements, the bodice stitched to Sera’s exact shape with professional precision. Lined in beads of emerald, she had adorned her raven hair in matching decorations, subtle in their extravagance. It was a lovely dress, but Sera’s utter joy as she admired herself in the mirror transcended mere beauty.
Her eyes found his in their reflection.
“Is it too much?” she asked, cheeks flushed and sucking her bottom lip between her teeth. “I know it’s a bit much, but I saw it that day when… well, I was almost captured and then it was still in the window when I went to be fitted and I crumbled.” She began touching at the dress, fiddling with the beads and seams, like she mistook his silence for dissatisfaction. “Is it ba—”
He snatched one of her hands, firmly encasing it in his. “You will be the envy of every eye here.”
She took a deep breath, stepping closer, the voluminous skirts brushing his legs. As he moved to guide her back into the line entering the main ballroom, he leaned close to her ear to add, “And it has little to do with the dress.”
Before she could respond, they were swept into the flow of people that poured into the grander, more spacious ballroom.
“Holy shit,” Sera breathed, her eyes wide as she attempted to take in the space.
The tiered tray ceiling was supported by columns adorned with decorations inspired by the Night Court. Kieran couldn’t name the dense, almost black leaves with their white blooms set in evenly spaced ornamental vases, but it was all a bit heavy handed. The standard string ensemble played softly in the far corner along a wall made entirely of floor to ceiling windows that—in daylight—looked out over Levity’s expansive terrace and gardens. The light inside was too strong to see out of at present, the glass acting like mirrors encased in gold trim.
Kieran had been here several times over the years. Levity loved to throw a politically strategic party, but he could appreciate Sera’s charming wonder.
“This room is bigger than the combined surface area of my apartment building. And it’s only purpose is to hold parties.”
He wouldn’t doubt her calculations, but she rushed on before he could respond.
“I’d kill to get my hands on the blueprints.” She was on the move without another word, gliding toward the refreshment table. Kieran followed, though he didn’t share her enthusiastic pace. At least her attentions were focused on the layout and mechanics of the room, rather than the heads that turned as they walked. He did not fail to notice the bent heads and whispers in their wake, rippling out through the crowd.
Kieran still managed nods and polite greetings as he made unavoidable eye contact with colleagues and acquaintances. He made sure Sera was in his sights at all times. Not knowing if something threatened her at a glance was… the height of frustrating. How did normal people go about their lives when Death could pounce at any moment? Kieran was not prone to nerves, but he could feel it now, the beehive of worry in his chest. He couldn’t let Sera out of his sight, not for a second.
The music shifted from ambiance to waltz as Sera brought a flute of something bubbly to her lips and sipped. She hummed, closing her eyes as she savored the taste just as Kieran reached her at the refreshment table.
He pulled his gaze from her lips, the shine of champagne on her lipstick—surely made all the sweeter when savored from her mouth.
Kieran snatched up the first dark liquid he could reach and took a generous sip. His normal pattern was to arrive precisely on time, grab a single drink—both out of politeness and to have something physical to hold—to nurse throughout the hour, and wait near the walls until it was acceptable to leave. No one spoke to him, no one requested he dance, and, yes, he may have embraced the caricature society painted of him at these parties, but better to feed the gossip than have to take part in it.
“So, what do you normally do at these things?” she asked.
