Through Smoke and Ashes

Thirty Three||Looming Threat

With some gentle persuasion and a well-placed dose of charm, I had successfully negotiated my way out of wearing the heels for the night. I even went so far as to demonstrate, with what I hoped was convincing clumsiness, exactly how impossible it was for me to manage even a single extra inch of height without risking catastrophe. One exaggerated stumble, a near topple against the edge of the vanity, and a theatrical sway later, Eve had made the decision for me—clearly in my favor.

"It's for the best," she murmured, brushing invisible dust from her hands as though my potential collapse had been a near-disaster of epic proportions. "A dragon rider in heels... it's just not practical. Or safe." She grimaced at my lack of coordination with the heels on.

I allowed myself a small, triumphant smile. At least I had dodged one of the two imposed obstacles of the evening. The other, the dress itself, remained a compromise I could endure—but the heels? Absolutely not. They would have added nothing but discomfort and humiliation to my night. A sensible decision on Eve's part, and one that made me grateful I could still assert a little control over my evening wardrobe.

Baylen, lounging casually against the railing a few feet away, gave a mock solemn nod. "Absolutely," he said, eyes glinting with amusement. "Heels would've been a disaster. Honestly, I'm relieved you spared the floorboards, and us, from whatever catastrophe that would've been." He spread his hands wide as if to illustrate the impending doom. "One misstep from you, and I'm imagining a domino effect. Tables overturned, candles snuffed, chandeliers swinging. Truly heroic, to have saved us all."

"Glad you approve of my heroics," I muttered, flexing my fingers slightly as I finished lacing up my boots. The familiar weight and fit felt reassuring, a small comfort compared to the precarious idea of balancing on heels all night.

Sige, leaning casually against the edge of the railing beside Aelric and Ton, let out a low whistle, his green eyes flicking between me and the discarded heels that Eve was now picking up and carrying off. "I'd pay to see someone brave enough to walk in those for more than five seconds," he said, the corners of his mouth twitching with amusement. There was a trace of genuine curiosity in his tone, as if he was imagining the disaster in slow motion.

I raised an arched eyebrow at him, crossing my arms and letting the leather of my boots creak softly under the pressure. "Well," I said, a sly edge to my voice, "maybe one of you should try them. Step into my world for a bit, see what it's like to carry another couple of inches on your feet."

The three of them exchanged a glance, a silent conversation passing in the brief tilt of heads and the narrowing of eyes. A shrug here, a shake of the head there. Almost simultaneously, they all shook their heads as if on cue, the movement crisp and deliberate.

Baylen's laugh broke the quiet first, rich and amused, echoing slightly in the high-ceilinged room. "Not a chance," he said, tilting his head back and letting his crimson tie catch the flicker of the torches along the wall. The contrast of red against black made him look almost theatrical without meaning to. "I like my dignity intact, thank you very much. One misstep in those, and I'd rather be carried out than try to recover from it myself."

Aelric, adjusting the sharp line of his blue tie with a faint grin, chimed in next. His voice was calm but light, easy to listen to, and the way he leaned against the railing made him look almost casual despite the suit's stiffness. "Yeah, I think we all value gravity a little too much to risk it tonight," he said, and there was a quiet humor in the implication that none of them were willing to put their balance, or pride, on the line.

I snorted softly, the sound carrying a hint of mock exasperation. "Another time, then," I said, letting my hands fall to my sides and rolling my shoulders back. The tension in my chest eased a little, and the small smile that tugged at my lips wasn't forced. Around me, the torches flickered, casting warm light across the polished floor and the high arching doors of the Academy, and I could see the other riders in small clusters, some quietly observing, others deep in conversation. Yet here, with this group at my side, the nerves that had tickled at the edge of my stomach seemed far less insistent.