“I typically keep to myself aside from polite greetings.”
Sera laughed. Her laughter had become one of his favorite sounds. Surpassed only by her moans of pleasure.
“But you should feel free to do as you wish,” he added, “I don’t believe you would be suited as a wallflower.”
Her eyes glittered, but perhaps that was the lighting. “I’m not sure what a wallflower is, but I’ll assume it was a compliment.”
“It was.”
Biting her lip, she tapped her nails against the glass.
“I did want to see the dancers,” she said after a moment, gazing wistfully toward the center of the ballroom where space allowed pairs to move uninhibited by those who watched.
“Then you should move closer. The view is better near the front of the crowd.” He could have gone with her, he would have endured much worse to be near her, but he didn’t want to risk his reputation tainting her experience. She deserved to have a good time. If he hovered too close, the inevitable barrier he putbetween himself and the rest of the courtiers would doubtless encase her as well.
“You’re not coming?” she asked, after she took a step.
His heart skipped a beat and he nearly gave in to the voice that urged he go with her.
“I prefer to stay far removed from the crowd, but I won’t be far, should you need anything.”
“Oh.” Her tone hinted at disappointment, but with a final smile she drifted further into the crowd.
As anticipated, eyes flocked to Sera. As much because she outshone every other guest in attendance as it was because she had arrived on his arm. He could detect whispers of ‘human’ and ‘really?’ and ‘with him?,’ but Sera was thankfully oblivious to the worst of it. But there were the other eyes too, men—mostly human or guardian, and a more conventional choice for her escort—that followed her with a different look. Less shock and more hunger. While Kieran encountered no more pangs of jealousy at her attention, something did stir in his chest as he observed her.
Sera would never be content with someone like him, someone who preferred solitude and the comfort of home. He died a little inside every time he stepped into one of these frivolous parties, but Sera flourished. She fed on the energy and atmosphere. The traces of her joy that peeked through when her mind was engaged now radiated from her. She may not have been born to this world, but she would have ruled it if given the chance.
There was an indescribable sense of loss that filled him knowing he was unsuited to rule at her side.
Sera was out of her depth. She underestimated the vastness of wealth and she felt tiny and meager in this room of extravagance.
She did not let that dampen her excitement, but the disparity in their perceptions of the world was not lost on her as she sipped from crystal glassware with four ounces of something clear and fizzing that likely cost more than four months rent. But this was not a night for class warfare. Tonight was for indulgence and fantasy.
Sera hovered on the outside of the dance floor, watching the dancers move in perfect step, bodies and partners gliding around each other. It was magical. Jewel toned gowns illuminated in soft flame and the delicate notes of string instruments all blended into a pleasing melody that she couldn’t name. The wall of windows so well lit they reflected the dancers in a perfect mirror making the space feel that much grander.
“Hello.”
Sera’s head snapped to the speaker. She had not expected anyone to attempt conversation with her. No one here knew who she was. The woman was young, probably still in her early twenties, with a sunny smile and warm eyes.
“Hello,” Sera responded, not sure what else by way of introduction was required, but this woman had approached her, so she would follow her lead.
“Miss Cordelia Wilde,” the woman offered with a fluid curtsy. Golden strands in her warm brown hair caught in the light as she dipped her head, arranged in an elaborate design that Sera could never have achieved on her own.
Sera copied the motion, though hers was less refined. She tried to keep her hands from darting to her hair, the twisted braid updo felt inadequate compared to a proper lady. “Miss Sera Blair.”
“Traditionally, we’d have to wait for some shared acquaintance or someone of title to introduce us, but I’ve a feeling you wouldn’t mind.” Humor danced in Cordelia’s words and Sera thought she recognized the bubbly notes in her voice.
“Not at all, I’m hardly versed on the proper rules.” Sera’s fingers began to fidget. “This is my first ball, actually.”
“My condolences,” Cordelia offered, looking out at the room with a frown.
Sera shook her head. “Not at all, I’ve always dreamed of attending a ball. My wildest imaginings weren’t half as grand as this.”
“Levity’s not known for subtlety. But these things all look the same after a while.” She took a drink from the cup in her hand and wrinkled her nose at the taste before swallowing.
“Yet you return?”
Cordelia laughed, but Sera didn’t detect mockery. “I’m not given a choice. I think the only acceptable excuse I could provide to satisfy my mother would be death. Normally, my sister and I entertain ourselves with our shared abhorrence of these gatherings. However, I’m afraid she recently succumbed to the great misfortune of a happy marriage, leaving me quite alone against the most feared…” Cordelia looked back and forth conspiratorially and leaned in to whisper, “eligible bachelor.”
