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“Now I’ll carry the taste of you with me.” He grinned then, his entire face lighting up into something that nearly stopped her heart. “And I’ll be back to taste some more.”
Suddenly, she was standing by herself, trembling, and watching him as he disappeared into the shadows outside the ballroom.
It took a few moments for her to collect herself, and a lot more moments for her to stop licking her lips.
The final notes of the Velarine faded away unheard as the ballroom erupted with applause, laughter, a few whoops, and the noticeable breeze resulting from the energetic use of many, many fans.
Alla was at her side in moments.
“Holy Hellforge, Mae,” she panted. “That was...you...him...who was that man?”
Maelin cleared her throat and struggled for some measure of composure. “That was Lord Cyrus Drake, I believe.”
“More of a smouldering devil, if you ask me.” She fanned herself. “The way he looked at you? The way he held you while you danced? I swear half of the women on the floor were on the brink of an orgasm. Me included.”
“Oh, silly,” chided Maelin, praying her cheeks weren’t colouring up and giving her away. “It was the Velarine, Alla. You know that dance. You shouldn’t have been surprised.”
“If it hadn’t been you and Lord Lucious, I wouldn’t have been. But there was something there...something between the two of you that nearly singed the draperies. I swear.”
Maelin managed a weak chuckle, determined to change the conversation. “That’s all well and good, my friend, but tell me about you and your partner. When you heard his name, you looked...shocked? Gable, wasn’t it? Sir Christopher Gable?”
Alla’s expression changed from curiosity to something Maelin was surprised to find she couldn’t quite read.
“Ah.” She hesitated. “Yes, it was a surprise to see him here. Just an old friend, that’s all.”
“I see.” Which of course she didn’t. “Someone from your past, possibly?”
“Yes. You were off in Tidehold. A brief...er...acquaintance.”
“How brief?”
“Mae...I can’t. Not here. Not now. I have to...” She paused as her name was called.
Maelin could hear it clearly, and turned her head to see the conductor standing on the dais and beckoning.
“That’s my cue,” said Alla.
“Cue? Cue for what?”
“Wait and see.”
And with that somewhat confusing command, Alla whisked herself off in a flurry of luminescent green silks, and a flash of white lace petticoats.
Maelin frowned as her friend rushed up to the orchestra, ran lightly up the steps of the dais and had a brief word with the conductor. He smiled, nodded and raised his baton as Alla walked to the front of the dais, to one side of the band.
“Dear honoured guests,” she said loudly, her voice echoing beautifully around the huge room.
“Since we’re here in Theryn House to welcome back Maelin, Lady of Theryn, from her long sojourn at the Tidehold Conservatory, I thought it would be appropriate to offer a song, written just for this occasion, as part of her welcome.” She flashed a smile at Maelin. “Here you are, then, Mae. A little something just for you...from me.”
The band lifted their instruments, but instead of the usual fully orchestral introduction, one musician stood and raised his hand, showing a small drumstick and several little drums. He clicked them, the sound sharp and rhythmic, and within seconds the rest of the orchestra joined in, a rhythmic thumping that made the guests jiggle, tap their feet, and nod along with the exciting beat.
And then Alla began to sing...
“Mmm...brass button coat, you lean in close, a little spark through the smog and smoke,
Copper and lace, a cheeky grin, one page turns and I’m falling in,
Spin that key, let it hum, my heart says yes, here you come...
