Several more people had arrived while Rune was upstairs searching through spell books. She recognized a good number of them: aristocrats who’d run in her social circles when she was still pretending to be a vapid socialite and hiding her witchy nature.
Bart danced up to them with flushed cheeks.
“Is that Charlotte Gong?” Rune asked him, catching sight of the girl. Charlotte was talking with a group of soldiers at the outskirts of the dancing while her fiancé embraced Laila. “And… Elias Creed?”
The brother of Noah and Laila, he worked for the Ministry of Public Safety—the bureaucratic office that oversaw witch purges, among other things.
Rune had always suspected Charlotte of secretly sympathizing with witches. Perhaps that explained his change of heart?
Or perhaps Elias had been a sympathizer all along.
“They had nowhere else to go,” said Bart, turning to watch the revelry. “Cressida’s soldiers have seized or ransacked everyhome within fifty miles of the capital. Those who didn’t run were taken captive.These”—he nodded to the group—“were lucky to escape with their lives.”
Antonio motioned to the dancing, his eyes alight. “And what’s this?”
Bart smiled, fox-like, in the gaslight.
“One last party,” he said, grabbing Antonio’s hands and pulling him toward the dancers. “If we’re going to die, darling, let’s die happy.”
Rune smiled, watching them disappear into the frenzy. Leaning against the wall, she scanned the room, noticing neither Harrow nor Juniper was present. Had they remained in the capital? Or were they traveling back even as music rang in her ears? What would they think when they walked in on a raucous party?
Her gaze found Gideon through the dancers. He stood in the same group as Charlotte, listening to whatever she was saying. The moment she sighted him, he looked up, as if sensing her attention.
Excusing himself from the conversation, he started toward her. His jaw was dark with stubble from days without shaving, and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled to his elbows. He looked tired but resolved.
Rune swallowed as he approached, remembering what they’d done on the train. His gaze bored into hers, as if he was remembering it, too.
“You owe me a dance,” he said, loud enough for her to hear over the music.
Her brows arched. “Excuse me?”
“I once dared you to accompany me to anactualparty, or don’t you remember?”
There will be no ball gowns. No hired musicians. No songs with ridiculous steps,he’d told her a lifetime ago, in the halls of Wintersea, describing exactlythiskind of party.
Name the date, and I’ll be there.
Careful, Miss Winters, or I might call your bluff.
He stopped directly before her. Rune leaned harder against the wall, her gaze trailing up his chest until her head tipped back to meet his eyes. The merriment beyond—the music, the laughter, the dancing—fell quiet. As if they were the only two people in the room.
“You accused me of… what was it?” she said, feeling weirdly breathless. “Not wanting to be caught dead with ‘riffraff in disreputable locales’?”
“Prove me wrong, then.” He trailed his knuckles across her cheekbone.
She wanted to wind his fingers through hers, to pull him upstairs and into a bed. But she stood her ground, running her gaze down him. Sizing him up. “I’m not sure you’re sufficiently disreputable, Gideon Sharpe. I’d better wait for more scandalous riffraff.”
He growled low. Grabbing her around the waist, he buried his face in her neck, nipping gently with his teeth. “I can be scandalous.”
Rune laughed and let him drag her into the fray.
He led her in a dance she wasn’t used to, and as her heart beat wildly in time with the song, her face flushing and her hair sticking to her sweaty skin, Rune looked at the people around her, spinning and stomping across the floor as if this were the last song they’d ever hear.
Even if we can’t bring down Cressida,Rune realized,the world we want to forge already exists.
It was right here in this room.
It was a world where enemies could be not just allies, but lovers and friends, and most of all, equals. It was a world where no one needed to hide who they really were.
