for my own benefit.”
“Which, you know…you were.”
I glanced at the mismatched pair, Ghorza sinking deeper into her overstuffed chair and Vlad cooling her with a paper fan. Shay was right. Ghorza looked on the verge of sickness. Vlad stuck out a hand, tested her forehead, and tucked a strand of hair behind Ghorza’s ear.
“Is it just me,” I said, “or is something going on between those two?”
“Something nefarious?” said Shay.
“Something romantic. Not that I’d understand it if it were. I mean, what kind of elf gets off on overweight orc chicks?”
“Don’t be such a bigot,” said Steele. “Interspecies love sprouts as easily as between like partners. I should know.”
For once, I didn’t take that as a thinly veiled expression of her love for me. She was talking about her parents, but our budding relationship was as good an example, as was the odd pairing between Quinto and the fae-blooded Cairny.
“As always, you’re right,” I said. “It’s not my place to judge. Although it’ll be difficult to abstain. I’m so good at it.”
Shay gave me a small nod that showed she accepted the apology. “Don’t mistake prosecution for judgment.”
A bell rang near the exit. A white jacket-clad steward stood there with triangle and beater in hand. Once the sound permeated through the room, he spoke in a loud, clear voice. “Ladies and gentlemen. The ballroom is now open.” He stepped to the side and swept his hand into the corridor.
Steele took a quick glance around the room as the masses began moving toward the exit. “Well, I think we’ve learned about as much as we’re going to tonight. Shall we?”
I sipped my drink and leaned in. “Shall we what?”
“Proceed to the ballroom.”
It took me a moment to process her meaning. “Are you…asking me to dance?”
“A lady asking a gentleman to dance? Of course not. That would be rather forward, wouldn’t it?” Shay stood rooted in place and let the void of silence fill the space between us.
“I—” I stared into her bold blue eyes, wide and beautiful and expectant. “—would love to. But what about Jimmy?”
“I don’t think he looks like the dancing type,” said Shay.
“That’s not what I meant.”
Shay smiled. “I know.”
“Fair enough. But I should warn you. It’s been a while since I danced.”
“As you might’ve guessed, my dress doesn’t provide for the greatest ease of movement.” Shay waved at her knees. “We’ll wait until they play a waltz. I should be able to handle that, if you can.”
“Believe it or not, I’ve danced it before.”
I held out my arm. Steele took it, and I escorted her into the corridor. While I presented a mask of tranquility, a little person inside me ran around in circles screaming.
I hadn’t lied. I had danced the waltz—something like four thousand years ago, when my ex-wife Nicole and I had just started dating and she’d dragged me along on all sorts of ‘fun’ outings I’d never truly appreciated.
The waltz, as I recalled, was one of the slowest of the ballroom dances, with a simple one-two-three, one-two-three pattern. The feet formed a box, moving forward and to the right and back and to the left over and over again. There was also supposed to be a corresponding rise and fall to the body where you elevated on your heels as you worked your way through the box, as well as numerous possible flourishes and twirls, though I could get by without performing any of those.
“Thomas?”
I glanced at Steele. “Yes?”
“You’re bouncing up and down.”
“Sorry. Muscle memory. For the waltz.”
“You know, if you’re not comfortable…”
I shook my head. “Nonsense. I’ll have everything sorted by the time we start. Never you worry.”
We followed the crowd into the ballroom, a broad two-story room that wouldn’t fit inside most buildings let alone on most ships, but the Prodigious took delight in making otherwise enormous things seem insignificant by
“Which, you know…you were.”
I glanced at the mismatched pair, Ghorza sinking deeper into her overstuffed chair and Vlad cooling her with a paper fan. Shay was right. Ghorza looked on the verge of sickness. Vlad stuck out a hand, tested her forehead, and tucked a strand of hair behind Ghorza’s ear.
“Is it just me,” I said, “or is something going on between those two?”
“Something nefarious?” said Shay.
“Something romantic. Not that I’d understand it if it were. I mean, what kind of elf gets off on overweight orc chicks?”
“Don’t be such a bigot,” said Steele. “Interspecies love sprouts as easily as between like partners. I should know.”
For once, I didn’t take that as a thinly veiled expression of her love for me. She was talking about her parents, but our budding relationship was as good an example, as was the odd pairing between Quinto and the fae-blooded Cairny.
“As always, you’re right,” I said. “It’s not my place to judge. Although it’ll be difficult to abstain. I’m so good at it.”
Shay gave me a small nod that showed she accepted the apology. “Don’t mistake prosecution for judgment.”
A bell rang near the exit. A white jacket-clad steward stood there with triangle and beater in hand. Once the sound permeated through the room, he spoke in a loud, clear voice. “Ladies and gentlemen. The ballroom is now open.” He stepped to the side and swept his hand into the corridor.
Steele took a quick glance around the room as the masses began moving toward the exit. “Well, I think we’ve learned about as much as we’re going to tonight. Shall we?”
I sipped my drink and leaned in. “Shall we what?”
“Proceed to the ballroom.”
It took me a moment to process her meaning. “Are you…asking me to dance?”
“A lady asking a gentleman to dance? Of course not. That would be rather forward, wouldn’t it?” Shay stood rooted in place and let the void of silence fill the space between us.
“I—” I stared into her bold blue eyes, wide and beautiful and expectant. “—would love to. But what about Jimmy?”
“I don’t think he looks like the dancing type,” said Shay.
“That’s not what I meant.”
Shay smiled. “I know.”
“Fair enough. But I should warn you. It’s been a while since I danced.”
“As you might’ve guessed, my dress doesn’t provide for the greatest ease of movement.” Shay waved at her knees. “We’ll wait until they play a waltz. I should be able to handle that, if you can.”
“Believe it or not, I’ve danced it before.”
I held out my arm. Steele took it, and I escorted her into the corridor. While I presented a mask of tranquility, a little person inside me ran around in circles screaming.
I hadn’t lied. I had danced the waltz—something like four thousand years ago, when my ex-wife Nicole and I had just started dating and she’d dragged me along on all sorts of ‘fun’ outings I’d never truly appreciated.
The waltz, as I recalled, was one of the slowest of the ballroom dances, with a simple one-two-three, one-two-three pattern. The feet formed a box, moving forward and to the right and back and to the left over and over again. There was also supposed to be a corresponding rise and fall to the body where you elevated on your heels as you worked your way through the box, as well as numerous possible flourishes and twirls, though I could get by without performing any of those.
“Thomas?”
I glanced at Steele. “Yes?”
“You’re bouncing up and down.”
“Sorry. Muscle memory. For the waltz.”
“You know, if you’re not comfortable…”
I shook my head. “Nonsense. I’ll have everything sorted by the time we start. Never you worry.”
We followed the crowd into the ballroom, a broad two-story room that wouldn’t fit inside most buildings let alone on most ships, but the Prodigious took delight in making otherwise enormous things seem insignificant by
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