He tilted his head. “Merely a bit of local lore,” he teased. “But if you find yourself tripping over your robes, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
She rolled her eyes, quickly downing her wine before chasing it with the citrus concoction.
Dario laughed and extended an arm. "Dance with me."
Her gray eyes widened in disbelief. "We're not here to dance, Dario."
“Indulge me,” Dario suggested with a wry smile. “What better way to blend in than to lose ourselves in the crowd?”His gaze flicked to the towering buildings around them. “And if you're set on showing off that face, let's at least find a spot where we don’t stick out like sore thumbs.”
Fair point.
With a resigned sigh, Elara set her empty cup on a nearby table and took his arm. He deftly navigated them through the sea of gilded masks and whispering gowns, dodging dancers in sweeping costumes until they found an open spot.
The melody shifted, pulling at memories tucked away in the corners of Elara's mind—from her first year in the capital. She closed her eyes, letting the rhythm paint vivid images of the grand ballroom and the regal dances she had watched from the sidelines.
Céilí—the name of the dance rang in her mind. It was a social dance that revolved around patterns and pairs, with lines of couples executing a sequence of steps with their partners and those next to them. But she didn't know the steps.
Dario's lips twitched into a half-smile as he caught her eye. “Just stick with the beat—and me,” he whispered, his breath lightly teasing the wisps of hair by her ear.
Warmth spread across Elara's cheeks, and her heart fluttered. Before she could second-guess herself, she tightened her grip on Dario's hand, letting him lead her into the dance's first step. Her first attempts were clumsy, resulting in apologetic winces as she stumbled over Dario’s toes and jostled nearby dancers. But as the music swelled, something within her clicked. Gradually, her movements found harmony with his, their steps weaving together seamlessly like the ebb and flow of the ocean—cascading, retreating, and surging anew.
As the music crescendoed, the rest of the world seemed to fade away. But out of the corner of her eye, a figure appeared. He stood broad and imposing, cloaked in black, with a raven mask hiding his features. Elara’s pulse spiked as he approached, andbefore she could react, he effortlessly severed her connection with Dario.
She stumbled over the cobblestones, but the stranger caught her hand, steadying her with a firm grip. He confidently pulled her back into the dance's rhythm as Dario vanished into the swirling crowd.
“Stay calm and dance,” he murmured, his voice smooth as velvet. It hit her then—the raven mask wasn't just a disguise; it was a signal. She was dancing with her contact.
“You're not Godfrey.”
Her head spun, a warm flush from the drinks coloring her cheeks as the stranger twirled her smoothly. When she faced him again, his dark eyes were narrowed.
“I’d be concerned if I were.”
An icy shiver ran up her spine. “Is he alive?”
“For now.” His voice was low, meant to be chilling, but his eyes betrayed some other emotion. Elara could see the heaviness in them, the strain they carried.
The stranger spun her again, and as she twirled, Elara caught sight of Dario watching her from the sidelines.
“Your friend?”
Elara's attention jerked back. “Yes.”
There was a brief pause before the stranger spoke again. “Do you trust him?”
Her eyes darted back to Dario. His gaze was steady, piercing in a way that made it seem like he could read her thoughts. She knew, with just one nod, that he would cut through the crowd to her.
Her heart squeezed as she turned back to the stranger. “I trust him.”
The stranger gave a slight nod. “Call your watchdog, then. We need a quieter place to talk.”
Elara duckedbehind a stack of crates in a shadow-laced alley, glancing between Dario and the stranger, their eyes locked in a silent, wary standoff.
“How did Godfrey send word from the Pit?” she asked, drawing the stranger's attention. Another question pressed against her lips, heavier and even more dangerous:And how did it end up in Algernon's hands?
But she kept that one to herself.
“We have eyes and ears within the prison.” The stranger's words were brief, clipped. Then, off came his raven mask, revealing a face that even in the muted light was striking. Deep-set, almond-shaped eyes with long, dark lashes, a strong jaw giving way to unexpectedly soft lips, and sleek, black hair that flowed past his shoulders.
