His hand tightened slightly at my waist as he pulled me a fraction closer than the dance required. “Recognition, perhaps. That you represent something she can never be, no matter how many golden masks she hides behind.”
“And what might that be?”
“Authentic.” The word was simple, direct, yet delivered with an intensity that caught me off guard. “There’s something genuine about you, Livia Cantius. Even in this setting, playing this role, you’re more real than most of the people who’ve spent their entire lives in these circles.”
I nearly missed a step, thrown by the unexpected insight. This was dangerous territory. If Jalend sensed something “authentic” about me, what else might he detect?
“Careful, Jalend,” I recovered quickly, forcing a light tone. “That almost sounded like a compliment.”
“I’m as surprised as you are.” His voice regained its sardonic edge. “Must be the wine.”
The music shifted, the tempo increasing. Jalend responded seamlessly, his movements becoming more fluid, more dynamic. I followed his lead, grateful for the hours Octavia had spent drilling me in these dances.
“Tell me,” he said as we circled each other, palms barely touching, “what made you choose the academy? Theprovinces must offer safer, more comfortable prospects for a noblewoman.”
“Perhaps I don’t care for safe or comfortable.”
“So it’s adventure you seek? The glory of riding dragons into battle for the Empire?”
I heard the scepticism in his voice. “You don’t believe that’s a worthy motivation?”
“I believe there are easier ways to find adventure than submitting to military discipline and risking your life on the back of a temperamental dragon.” His eyes studied mine. “I think you’re running from something. Or toward something.”
“And you?” I countered, unwilling to let him push further. “What made you enter the trials when you could be arguing with far more appropriate opponents in the political courts?”
Something flickered across his face — a shadow, quickly banished. “Perhaps I too am running from something. Or toward something.”
“How evasive. And here I thought we were having an honest conversation.”
“Honesty is overrated at events like these.” He guided me through a complex series of turns. “Most people here wouldn’t recognize the truth if it flew in on dragonback and breathed fire at their feet.”
“And you’re different?”
“I’m worse.” His smile was sharp, almost predatory. “I recognize the truth and sometimes choose to ignore it anyway.”
The music was building toward its finale, and Jalend pulled me closer, his arm firm around my waist.
“You never answered my question,” he said, his voice low. “Why the academy, Lady Cantius?”
I met his gaze, deciding to offer a version of the truth. “My family died when I was young. I spent years being passed between distant relatives who saw me as a burden. The academyoffers purpose, independence. A chance to belong to something larger than myself.”
His expression softened almost imperceptibly. “A noble sentiment.”
“I thought you didn’t believe in noble sentiments.”
“I’m making an exception.” He executed the final turn of the dance, bringing us face to face, closer than propriety strictly allowed. “You’re rather good at making me question my established patterns, Lady Cantius.”
The music ended, and for a moment we remained still, neither moving to step away.
“You should be careful with that,” I said quietly. “I might not be the safest person to question anything with.”
“Now who’s being cynical?” His smile returned, though his eyes remained serious. “Besides, I’ve never had much interest in safety either.”
He released me and stepped back, offering a formal bow as the other dancers applauded the musicians. But his eyes never left mine, that same intensity burning in them.
“The acceptance announcements will be soon,” he said as he straightened. “Nervous?”
“Should I be?”
