“You command the room,” he says, then hesitates. I arch an eyebrow. “I meant to ask—have you found that the role suits you, General?”
A ghost of a smile dances on my lips. “I think the answer is obvious.”
His nostrils flare as he inhales, and he leans forward in his seat. I don’t think he realizes he does it himself, how easily swayed he is.
I turn towards Noire and join a conversation he’s having with Nobleman Genji, who sits at his side for the rest of the dinner. Though I don’t spare a glance at Nobleman Juti, his gaze lingers on me.
Once everyone’s bellies are full, and most of the guests are visibly intoxicated, Bart approaches the table. He claps his hands twice and the room falls to silence.
A charming smile grows on his face and he says, “Now that your basic appetite has been satiated, it’s time for dessert, gentlefolk.”
A wave of cheers rouses the table. Nobles are ready for the next part of the evening, whatever that may be. All of a sudden, I’m anxious again.
I should have asked Noire or Bart to brief me about the agenda for the evening.
None of the nobles rise from their seat until Bart approaches me and offers me his hand again. I take it and stand, the rest of the nobles then following suit.
“Allow me to keep you company, General,” Bart says sweetly, loud enough that Noire and the nobles closest to me hear it.
I nod, keeping my face neutral. Bart loops my arm through his and leads me to mingle. Once we leave the dinner table, Vera’s servants make a quick work of clearing it. I frown a little when they lift the dining table and quietly carry it out of the room.
That must be heavy.
“What’s going on?” I whisper to Bart.
“You’ll see, General,” he whispers back, leaning dangerously close to my ear. He’s creating the illusion of us exchanging intimate words. “This is the part where we win Nobleman Juti over.”
Soon enough, servants come back with more cushioned seating and place it around the studio. Then, they carry in a low, wide stool with a carved back and place it right where the dining table sat before. Hel brings a couple of silk cushions and turns to Bart.
A slight nod of her head, and we’re on the move. Bart leads me to the makeshift throne and I sit. My Ezkai stand on each side of the throne, behind me. Other nobles are lounging on the cushions scattered around, or sitting in the conversation pit.
All eyes are on me.
I swallow the ball of anxiety lodged in my throat. To my surprise, Bart rests his butt on the wide arm of my chair and gets comfortable.
A couple of noblewomen are disappointed to see it, I can tell from the greedy looks they shoot Bart’s way.
I lean in towards Bart. “What are you doing?”
Bart bends down a little so our faces are on the same level. When he whispers into my ear, his warm breath tickles my neck. “Playing the part as your escort for the night. It’s a custom for the Ezkai General to choose a Caetra to entertain them. It would be odd otherwise.”
A chill goes down my spine. That I haven’t thought about. Am I expected to choose a Caetra as my personal entertainer? Or am I expected to have a different one at my side every time I attend a party?
Gods damn it. These stupid Ekiosh social customs.
Bart must notice the way my body goes rigid, because he chuckles and pulls back a little. Amusement dances in his gaze. “It’s only for show, General. Unless you desire otherwise.”
Gently, Bart takes my hand into his, presses his lips to the back of my palm, and winks at me.
I’m too stunned to speak, so I only nod and refocus my attention back to the room where some of the naked Caetras have started to dance in the very middle of the space. The music has shifted from cheery and light to something a little darker, heavier. The notes are sultry, like the smooth velvet of the cushions the nobles occupy.
The way the Caetras’ bodies move is pure art. Smooth as water, the sparkles in golden and silver paint covering their skin catching in the light with each graceful roll of their hips and bend of their backs.
The thing that’s most mesmerizing is how in sync they all are. As if they’re living and breathing as one. The coordination is fascinating. I can’t peel my eyes away from them.
The music shifts again, the vocalist taking a brief pause before she starts on another ballad, a faster yet just as seductive as one before. Some of the Caetras dancing in the middle, Hel being one of them, start to break off from the circle. They approach their chosen nobles, offering them a private show.
One of those lucky nobles is Nobleman Juti. Hel’s body looks unnatural from the way it moves, and he’s utterly mesmerized. That’s why when she offers him her hand, he takes it without missing a beat.
