Younn and Jules were still standing by the food and draining their goblets.
Sol was standing just outside the perimeter of the dance floor. Another soldier was speaking to him. Sol seemed to be listening intently, but Meena could catch the way his eyes scanned the room. He was waiting for Jules and Younn to make their move.
“My lady?” A young man bowed in front of her. “Are you lacking a partner?” He held his hand out hopefully.
With a final glance at Sol, Meena accepted the young man’s hand. He seemed to have the situation under hand.
Her young partner spun her around dizzily, and she basked in the lights and movement and music.
“Thank you,” she said at the end of the dance, dropping the young man’s hand. She glanced around the room, looking for Sol, hoping he had made progress. She could not find him immediately, which bode well. She also could not find Jules or Younn.
Her heart beat rapidly from the exercise. She hoped Sol would remain hidden and not put himself in danger.
“Another?” The young man held out his hand again, and Meena smiled up at him. He, too, was breathless, and clearly enjoying the night. She reached out to place her hand in his, when a floppy mess of dark curls caught the corner of her eye. She stood up on her toes to peer over the crowd.
Sol was standing near a table, nodding along as another old soldier talked his ear off.
Meena dropped back down on her feet. “Thank you, that was delightfully fun, but I must see to my husband before your old superiors bore him to death.” She squeezed the young soldier’s hand.
He laughed as she dropped their contact. “Between you and me, that is highly possible.”
Meena wound her way through the crowd, using the tired but courteous smile she’d perfected when she needed to get past people who wanted to speak with her.
Approaching Sol, Meena could hear the desperation in his voice. “I really must find my wife,” he said.
“Of course, my boy,” the soldier—also highly ranked—responded. “You must introduce me to the princess.”
Sol had no response for that, but Meena slipped her hand into his arm, letting him know she was present.
Sol started slightly at the contact, but dropped his head, smiling down at her with true relief.
The smile Meena gave back to him was not fake.
“I was just looking for a dance partner,” Meena said, smiling at the soldier. Though, upon closer inspection, she had no desire to spend time in physical contact with him. His eyes were dull and his smile flat.
“I would be happy to dance with you,” Sol said, missing her meaning.
“Thank you, my dear.” She patted his hand, emphasizing the term of endearment which Jules and Ezra frequently used for each other. “I was hoping you could introduce me to your friend here.”
“Oh, yes, of course.”
Before Sol could actually make the introduction, Meena held out her hand to the soldier. “A dance?”
“Yes, Princess.” The soldier took her hand, his bland eyes opening wide.
Meena used her free hand to subtly push Sol away.
She did give herself the liberty of a satisfying eye roll behind the soldier’s back as they walked to the dancing area.
Sol woundthrough the inner halls of the thick wall, moving in the direction he had seen Jules and Younn go.
With the number of people flowing in and out of the area—word about welcoming the councilor had spread fast—Sol did not feel conspicuous exploring the fort.
Hopefully, the night of the feast would be even more crowded.
Assuming that the two men had gone to speak somewhere in private, Sol tended toward the less populated areas. The luxury of the furnishings also made it easier to guess which part of the fort the superiors would inhabit.
Sol caught a glimpse of a door closing and instinctively rolled under a bench right outside it.
