Page 25

“Watch the dress on your left,” I warn as a jeweled length of silk slides across our path.

Valerie steps around it and looks up at me. “I’m beginning to understand why everything here is built on such an enormous scale. Half these guests would destroy a human dining room by turning around.”

“Most of them would struggle with the doors first. Human architecture shows remarkably little foresight.”

“So do dresses with six-foot trains.”

Her dry answer draws a quiet laugh from me. We reach the open space beneath the balcony just as the quartet shifts into a slower piece. Cellos carry the melody beneath long, measured notes from the higher strings.

I turn toward Valerie and place one hand at her waist. She rests her palm against my chest and takes my other hand without hesitation. I draw her closer than the dance requires. Her body stiffens for a moment, then she adjusts to the difference in our height and follows my first step.

The heat of her palm reaches me through my shirt with startling intensity. We have touched often enough over the past two days for casual contact to feel familiar. Moving with her this close against me is something entirely different.

“You are holding me very tightly,” Valerie says after another slow turn. She makes no attempt to move away.

I look down at her and keep my voice low. “Is it too much?”

Valerie stays close and curls her fingers more firmly over my shoulder. “I didn’t ask you to let go.”

The quiet certainty catches me off guard. I keep my hand at her waist and resist the urge to pull her nearer.

“My mother isn’t watching us anymore,” I tell her. “We don’t need to perform for her now.”

Valerie glances past my shoulder toward the banquet table. When she looks back at me, there is no hesitation in her expression. “I know she isn’t watching.”

Neither of us changes the distance between us. On the next turn, Valerie comes closer of her own accord and follows my lead without the stiffness she had at the beginning.

“I’m holding you because I want to,” I say beneath the music. “If that makes you uncomfortable, tell me.”

Valerie studies me as the other couples move around us. “It doesn’t make me uncomfortable. I would tell you if it did.”

Some of the strain across my shoulders releases at the answer. Her cheek nearly brushes my shirt before she tips her face up again. I become acutely aware of how much of her body touches mine.

Finally, the music slows around us. I barely register the couples moving nearby. Valerie remains close with her hand resting over my heart, and the rest of the room becomes easier to ignore.

The last notes stretch across the hall and fade into the night air. Couples begin separating and returning to their tables. Valerie does not move immediately, and I am equally reluctant to create the distance myself.

Several seconds pass before I lower my hand. The loss of contact annoys me more than it should.

Vasili Drachen approaches from the edge of the dance floor before I can decide whether to draw Valerie close again. I see him first, and the ease of the last few minutes disappears.

He stops several feet away and inclines his head toward her. “Forgive the interruption, Miss Priest. I’ve been thinking about our conversation earlier, and I would like to make you a professional offer.”

Valerie turns toward him, still standing close beside me. “You’re offering me a job after one conversation?”

“A position with Lindwurm’s historical research division, if you are interested.” Vasili speaks with the same measured confidence he showed on the mountain. “You would have considerable freedom, access to our private collections, and compensation well above municipal scale. I’m not asking you to decide tonight.”

My entire body goes rigid at the proposal. He has known her for only a few hours. Apparently that is enough time to imagine taking her away from Saltweather and placing her somewhere inside his own empire.

Valerie will make her own decision, and I know better than to speak for her. That knowledge barely tempers the possessive impulse rising in me. Vasili stands three paces away and calmly explains how much more his empire could offer her. I want him gone.

Valerie glances up at me. The slight narrowing of her eyes tells me she has noticed my irritation. She turns back to Vasili before I can say anything less diplomatic.

“It is a very generous offer, Mr. Drachen, but I’m not looking to leave Saltweather.” Her tone remains courteous, with no uncertainty beneath it. “My work matters to me because it belongs there. More money wouldn’t change that.”

Pride cuts cleanly through my irritation. Vasili considers her answer for a moment and inclines his head.

“Then I will respect your decision. Should your circumstances ever change, the invitation will remain open.”