I notice Yelema, the prettywoman who was having tea with Luca when I first found his tent. She’s dancing and is as mesmerizing as always. She waves at me, and I wave back. Then she waves at someone else in the room, and another. As if she knows everyone here. The only two people I know well in the Downhill, which makes up more than half of the city, are Luca and Jiafu. If I’m going to be proprietor, that needs to change.
Luca sits on a stool and speaks to the bartender, their heads so low it looks like they’re talking into their glasses. I slide in beside him, but they keep their voices almost too low for me to hear.
“...yesterday morning,” Luca says. “Nearly certain he’s a shadow-worker.”
“Who is?” I ask.
The bartender eyes me cautiously. “She’s with you, von Raske?”
“Do you mean do I care if she overhears, or is shewithme?”
“Both, I suppose.”
“I’d rather she not overhear. She’s a client for a different matter,” he says.
Before I can ask what’s going on, the bartender says, “I thought you weren’t the physical type?”
It takes me a moment to process what the bartender means—that he thinks I’m here with Luca as a date. As a possible lover. I force myself not to look too pleased, not to hope too much, as I hold my breath, waiting for Luca’s response.
“Everyone seems to have opinions on mytype, don’t they?” Luca rolls his eyes and then turns to me. “Give us a moment.”
I feel a shrivel of disappointment.
“Fine,” I say and then creep my way to the other side of the bar, hoping for someone to talk to. I search for Venera in the crowd but don’t find her. Instead, I bump into a woman with a five o’clock shadow and hands twice the size of my face.
“I like your mask, dear,” she says to me.
“Thank you. I like your shoes.” She wears glittery purple heels that pair perfectly with the frills of her dress. “Is it always this crowded?” I ask.
“They’re all celebrating the Up-Mountain war that hasn’t happened yet,” she says. “But everyone thinks there will be one because some fortune-worker said there’d be. The fortune-worker’s name changes with each story. They think a war here will bring the Down-Mountains more freedom.” She raises her eyebrows. “Wishful thinking.”
“War in the Up-Mountains? Why?”
“People keep dying, I think. Important Up-Mountain people.”
I think back to the young prince in Cartona, the one who died of pneumonia, but people really believe he was murdered by Frice. Then there was the Frician duke. Villiam didn’t mention anything to me about a possible war, and I’d believe him over any fortune-worker.
Luca reappears at my side. “Sorry,” he says. “I only needed to speak to him for a moment.”
“About what?” I ask.
“A private matter.” His face is serious and cold, and, for a moment, I have the urge to take a step back. He’s definitely hiding something important. This isn’t some meeting with the Leather Viper.
Or maybe I’m just on edge, with all this talk of war and the Alliance.
There’s a pause. I can feel the thrum of the music in my fingertips. Luca shifts almost awkwardly next to me.
“Do you want to dance?” he asks suddenly.
“With you?”
“I mean, I invited you here. Unless you have someone else with whom you’d prefer to dance.”
I look him over and try to keep myself from flushing once more. His dark eyes that deeply contrast with his pale hair and skin. His angular features, his broad shoulders, his slender frame. If Venera was here, she would tell me he’s attractive and that I should definitely dance with him. That I should seize the opportunity, even at the risk of making a fool of myself.
He’s probably just being nice. We’re friends, after all.
I take his hand anyway.
