Chapter 30
Wren
“Is it too much?” I ask softly, because if I don’t break this silence, my nerves might climb up my throat and choke me. “Tenae insisted this was appropriate.”
His throat bobs with a swallow.
“No,” he says, and the word comes out rougher than his usual precise control. “It’s perfect.”
Heat rises instantly to the back of my neck and cheeks. I drop my gaze, pretending to smooth my hands over an imaginary wrinkle in the skirt, trying to gather myself back into some semblance of composure.
“We look like we belong here,” he adds quickly, drawing my eyes back to his wide green gaze. “The perfect cover is to blend in.”
Whatever this place is, it doesn’t feel like I’ll ever be able to look like I’m meant to belong, no matter what’s on the outside. But his confidence in our look as a fake couple soothes some of my nervous energy and I nod in agreement.
“Shall we go, then?” I ask, because the longer we stand here, the more aware I become of the way his gaze keeps drifting back to my mouth.
He closes the distance between us and offers his elbow in a formal gesture, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. I guess it is, after repeating the same move over and over again over the past few days. For a heartbeat I hesitate, staring at the place my hand is meant to rest.
Dread rises up within my stomach knowing tonight is the formal cover for the officers’ meeting. Ryoden swore to me this morning that he feels confident with his plan and what he’s going to say, but I can’t shake the feeling that something awful is going to happen.
Between Eli and Tenae’s warning of how the high-ranking officers are, and experiencing HQ the past few days, it just feels like we’re waiting for them to clamp their jaws around our throats at any minute.
My hand lifts and still I hesitate.
“We just have to get through tonight and then we’ll leave tomorrow,” Ryoden says, soothing my fears and once again showing how tuned in he is to my emotions after such a short time together.
I meet his eyes and let the confidence reflecting back in them embolden me. Then I slide my fingers through the crook of his elbow, letting my hand settle against the inside of his forearm.
“Stay close to me,” he murmurs, looking down at me. “And if at any point you feel like it's too much, give me a look and I’ll get you out. That’s a promise.”
My chest tightens as I swallow around the lump building there and nod. “Let’s do this.”
When we step into the hall, Eli straightens when he sees us, eyes flicking over me and then over Ryoden with a quick sweep that takes everything in.
“Well,” he says, a teasing light in his eyes and a curve of his lips, “if the goal was to make everyone else feel inadequate, I’d say mission accomplished.”
“Focus, Eli,” Ryoden mutters, but the edge to his voice is dulled by the faint blush that climbs his cheekbones.
I take note of the way he uses the specialists’ first name and smile to myself at their growing friendship. No matter how much Ryoden has acted like he’s only tolerating the younger man since arriving, it’s clear he’s growing on him the same way Eli has for me.
Eli only grins and falls into step behind us as we move down the hallway, Ryoden leading with me on his arm, Eli half a pace behind and to my other side. It’s a small formation, but it feels comforting nonetheless.
We take the main elevator down to the correct level, and the minute we step off, my hand tightens against Ryoden’s arm. The swell of music is growing louder alongside the chatter of too many voices and forced laughter.
“Breathe,” he whispers as he walks us toward a set of doors that are pulled open with two guards stationed on either side of the hall.
“Trying,” I squeak out beneath a fake smile, knowing we’re on display already.
As the guards give us a nod of greeting, we pass and step fully into the ballroom.
It’s the largest room I’ve ever been in and my eyes widen in true awe of such a spectacle.
Light pours from a multitude of chandeliers strung high above our heads, illuminating all the people who are grouped up around the space.
It’s a soft warmth of focal light that leaves mystery in shadowed corners and sides of the room.
I’m taken aback by how many people are here compared to our tea time and dinners. Dozens must have arrived late last night or early this morning while I sequestered myself away. Or perhaps they’re just here to add to the General’s own ruse of a large ball.
My eyes scan the area where dozens of circular tables sit empty with name cards atop each plate, but before I can take anything more in, Ryoden is whisking us to the social circles.
The moment we creep toward the more well-lit center of the room beneath the lights, attention snaps toward us. A few people incline their heads to Ryoden, but most of the lingering looks fall to me. Thankfully this corset keeps my back straight, despite my initial reaction to shrink away.
“Remember,” Ryoden says under his breath, hidden well by those playing instruments on the small platform at the back of the room, “they see what we show them.”
I draw in a slow breath, letting the air fill the space in my chest, and tilt my chin up just a fraction.
I have walked battlefields and court halls; I was made by the gods themselves to judge these beings. These men and their polished smiles do not get to be the thing that finally unravels me.
“Then we show them we belong,” I answer, and the words settle between us quietly like a pact.
I quickly spot some of the wives from tea time and tug my mask firmly into place. Most of the lower-ranking officers’ wives look genuinely pleased to see us. Meanwhile the higher-ranking wives hold themselves tightly to their circle still, their smiles small and forced, the same as mine.
“There she is,” Lila, the youngest of the group breathes, warm-brown eyes lighting up as she takes my gown in. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you,” I reply with a quick glance around at the group, wanting to greet them all at once to avoid awkward small-talk individually. “You all look beautiful as well.”
It’s the sort of compliment people trade in situations like this, but Lila’s expression softens as if the words mean more to her than that.
Her husband steps up at her side, his gaze sweeps down me and then back up, weighing and cataloguing. It doesn’t linger on me the way others have; instead, it shifts quickly to Ryoden, and he extends a hand.
“Colonel Kane,” he greets stiffly. “We weren’t sure if you were going to make it down tonight.”
“We weren’t sure either, with my fiancée’s stomach bug,” Ryoden answers lightly, clasping his hand for a brief moment before turning to grace me with a dazzling smile. “A pleasant surprise.”
I lean into him, resting the side of my head against his shoulder as I squeeze his arm affectionately. “I couldn’t miss your first ball as a colonel, honey.”
The words are high-pitched and uncomfortable as they fall from my mouth, but I smile warmly at Lila’s husband as his attention turns back to me.
“We’re glad to hear you’re feeling better,” he offers politely before wrapping his arm around Lila’s waist. “I hope you enjoy your first ball. If you’ll excuse us.”
The parting is sudden and a chill runs down the back of my neck as I force myself to take a steadying breath. Perhaps I’m reading too far into his words because of my own anxiety.
The musicians begin a new song, strings swelling and brass humming beneath. The center of the room clears as couples drift toward the open space.
“If you’ll excuse us,” Ryoden says smoothly to the other wives still present, rescuing us before any more questions can hold us to the spot. “I promised a dance to my beautiful soon-to-be bride before I drink too much and grow a second right foot.”
He didn’t promise me that, but I seize the lifeline anyway and offer a nod of goodbye to the women. I let him guide us through the press of bodies to the center of the room. The wooden floor is brilliantly polished, reflecting flickers of light as we move into position among the other couples.
His right hand settles against the back of my waist, firm and careful, fingers spanning the space where the laces of the corset tie off near the bottom.
The warmth of his palm seeps through fabric and into skin and I cling to the comfortability of it.
I set my hand on his shoulder, as the other women are doing with their companions on the dance floor.
“Is this a bad time to admit I’ve never danced before?” I whisper lightly, keeping my face carefully schooled with warmth as I stare up at his sparkling green eyes.
Meanwhile my stomach churns with sudden fear that I’ve dodged uncomfortable conversations just to expose us here in the middle of whirling couples that will surely notice I have no idea what to do.
Ryoden gently threads our free hands together and lifts them to our side while leaning in to press his lips to the side of my ear. “Then it’s a good thing my mother put me through dance lessons when I was younger. Trust me and just let me guide your body.”
His specific word choice and deep timber in which they rumble out against my ear cause the skin of my arms to pebble.
Let me guide your body.
The music folds around us, and Ryoden takes a step closer as he stands back to his full height, erasing all distance between us as my chest brushes against him.
We begin to move and I quickly find the rhythm isn’t difficult, and Ryoden leads with enough certainty that my body falls into step almost instinctively. I keep a carefully light eye on the couples around us, absorbing what the women are doing and relaxing further into the dance.
The crowd blurs into a swirl of color at the edges of my vision, bright gowns and dark jackets smearing together as the world tightens to the circle of his arm around me.
“You’re doing well,” he murmurs after a few minutes, surprise threading through the edges of his voice.