Page 52 of The Nymph King

Imani smiled, pointing at him. “There. That’s it.”

He threw his hands up and made an exasperated face.

A laugh nearly escaped her before she caught it. Then he looked toward the dance floor as the musicians began the next piece and extended his hand.

“Would you like to dance with me, Imani?”

“Yes.” Her voice sounded more breathless than she intended as she placed her fingers in his.

The music swelled, the tempo slowing into a rhythm that demanded more than a simple dance. The circle around them opened as they moved forward together. She closed the distance without hesitation, stepping into alignment with him as the first turn set them in motion. His hand found her back, resting against her spine only after she stepped willingly into his reach. Her fingers rested on his shoulder, feeling the steady line of his body beneath the fine fabric of his coat.

He didn’t look at her at first, continuing to scan the room—who watched and who pretended to look away. His focus stretched far beyond the space they occupied, which should have made him feel distant, yet it only heightened her awareness.

Imani let the movement carry them through a sweeping turn, matching his pace and yielding only to the rhythm. The contact between them remained minimal, enough to track the deep steadiness of his breathing and feel how carefully he restrained every fraction of closeness.

It irritated her.

It intrigued her even more.

“Now that you’ve seen what I can do,” she said, her voice pitched low enough to remain trapped between them, “will you support me against Tanyl?”

Ellisar didn’t miss a step. “Power changes the problem,” he replied, his tone unchanged by their sudden intimacy. “There are more factors at play than what you proved out there.”

Her jaw clenched, and only the graceful demands of the dance kept her from snapping outward. “I just closed a slip in front of your entire fleet. If that’s not enough for you, then say it plainly—what, exactly, is it?”

The question brought his full attention to her.

“What you did altered the entire field.” The music drew them flush against each other for a fleeting second, then carried them apart. “Before today, you were a claim I could evaluate. Now you’re a force every power in this realm will move around—or against.”

A beat of silence hung between the notes of the music.

“You made yourself impossible to ignore.”

The words made her reel back, and her lip curled in distaste as he hinted at a secret he alone knew.

The next turn brought them close again. Her hand clamped onto his shoulder. “So, what does it take?” she demanded.

This time, he didn’t delay. “The Drasil.”

Both words cut through the music. Imani stilled within, even as her feet kept moving in time with the steps.

“You’re asking me to give up my wand?” Her voice lowered with disbelief. “That’s not happening.”

Ellisar’s face remained carved in stone. “I’m asking for Tanyl’s.”

Imani lost the rhythm and stumbled, and Ellisar caught her against his chest. The refusal died on her tongue as understanding clicked into place.

“Tanyl’s,” she repeated.

“Yes.”

The turn carried them apart, giving her a moment to let the pieces fall into place. Tanyl’s Drasil. Ellisar wanted leverage over the impostor king.

Tanyl already possessed Essenheim’s throne, its court, and the armies that still answered to the crown. None of those things explained why he had acquired a second Drasil from a power outside the Mesial Realm. If maintaining his kingship were his only objective, he had already secured nearly everything he needed.

The additional power pointed somewhere beyond the throne.

Her breath hitched.