Shadows and Steel | ✓

chapter forty-seven

-47-

Composing herself, Elle tapped Cerid on his navy shoulder, shooting him a small smile. "I just visited the restroom, did I leave you waiting long?"

"Not long," he handed her a flute of clear liquid. She tilted her head at the drink, "is this-?"

"—water." Cerid clinked their glasses. "I want to keep a clear head tonight. Besides, this is more refreshing after our dancing." He took a sip, eyes travelling over the convivial party. "We can dance again, if you'd like."

"Is the Imperial Heir supposed to dance with only one woman all night?" She raised her brow.

"The Imperial Heir can do whatever he'd like. What do you say to another turn about the dance floor?"

Elle pretended to think for a moment, before leaning in to whisper. "I need some air. Besides, you mentioned once that these sorts of parties aren't to your liking." Her nails dug into her palms, cutting half crescents into the skin. Her insides churned as he looped his arm in hers.

"Are you proposing we sneak away, sawdust? By all means, lead the way." Cerid downed his water with her, passing their glasses to a hovering server. Elle's throat bobbed as she swallowed. In a flash of blue, she was already darting and weaving past people. Cerid chuckled at her brisk pace, offering a wave to those he knew in passing.

As they neared the doors, Elle looked left. Leo watched them passively, leaning against of the dessert tables. His copper hair seemed almost auburn in the candlelight. He made the smallest of movements, bringing his hand up to slowly tap his wrist. Time was running out.

DETRA's security had been increased since the Order's attacks, and even more so since Jax's death. This ball was their last chance. The pair didn't slow their pace until they were well away from the party. Cerid kissed her hand, his lips lingering. Elle exhaled and forced a smile.

"Do you think you could show me your private collection of manuscripts|? It would be a welcome distraction from the celebrations here."

"Not the library?"

Elle shook her head. "You talked about your personal first editions which I'd very much like to see. Besides, we won't be seeing each other much after tonight." The words lodged in her throat. "We'll both be so busy."

Cerid kissed the back of her hand, eyes flitting to hers. "As you wish."

The assassin looked back over her shoulder, catching sight of Tristan's terribly-fitted waistcoat in the shadows. Copper locks glinted behind him. Kath wouldn't be far behind. Elle blew out a breath, standing straighter. Her team were coming and they were going to end this tonight.

Guards followed the Imperial Heir until the lift. There, at the bottom of the deadly contraption Boyo stood half-asleep. His hair was almost grey, yet in his dreamlike state a childish smile tugged at his lips. Cerid cleared his throat and his eyes shot open.

"Oh my! Don't you both look ravishing. Give us a twirl." Boyo clapped as Elle awkwardly did so.

"To my chambers." Cerid interrupted the display before Boyo could demand for him to twirl next. The man wiggled his brows as he cranked controls. Elle couldn't help but feel a little ache in her chest at the older man as she waved farewell and the box began its slow ascent.

"I don't know why you insist on using this lift every time." Elle gripped onto the bar tighter. "It's not exactly safe and I'm sure there's faster ones to get to your rooms."