Leaving on the Wrong Foot

The music in the hall quickened.

Beneath the balconies, thaumaturgic lamps cast a uniform light over the couples as the mosaic floor reflected their practiced steps. The murmurs about the verbal duel between Daniel and Prebito still circulated, but, like any other major subject that swept through the courts of Ordinem Finis, it was already beginning to fade into comments about dresses, romances, and wagers.

Thanatos, who had slipped away shortly after a scathing remark about the ill-fated outcome of the verbal skirmish with Prebito, returned to the company of Lady Vina Alerius. A wicked smile curved beneath his mask.

“Fidenzio de Lio” said Thanatos, bowing theatrically. “Lady Vina Alerius has requested you for a dance.”

Daniel glanced at Lais, who was watching the spinning couples with crossed arms, then nodded once. The noblewoman stopped a step away from him and gave a short, practiced curtsy.

“Master de Lio, I witnessed your duel with our host earlier” she said, a teasing lilt in her voice. “Your eloquence seemed insufficient to match Senator Prebito. Let us see how you fare on the dance floor.”

“Lady Alerius” Daniel replied, offering his hand. “I cannot promise any spectacle, but out of respect for propriety, I shall accompany you.”

“Let us test that second promise” she countered, taking his hand.

They walked together to the center, and the circle of dancers made room for them.

The dance began with a simple figure: a lateral step and a short spin. Daniel maintained an erect posture, his gaze fixed where it should be. Lady Alerius performed her part with unwavering precision.

“Left foot forward, pivot, and shift the axis” she murmured.

Daniel was late in executing the move. The next sequence demanded a quick crossing step, a half-turn, two backward beats, and a diagonal advance. He managed the first three counts, missed the fourth, and corrected on instinct.

Alerius raised an eyebrow slightly.

“You hid it well. But miss the next figure, and you will topple three couples.”

“Excellent incentive” Daniel replied dryly.

The complexity increased.

An arc of the arms, right hand at elbow height, left extended in a straight line, change of direction, half-turn, and return to center. The hall watched closely, the pair drawing attention for pairing the masked nobleman who had just faced Prebito with a powerful lady of Onórion known for her unpredictable temper.

“Who taught you the basics?” Alerius asked, never missing a step.

“Officers at a campaign ball” he quipped, “many years ago. I learned enough not to step on boots.”

“Unfortunately, there are no boots here.”

The next section required a counter-step, backward advance, and a spin beneath the arm. Daniel moved too early, and his hand rose higher than it should have. The motion caught the sleeve of Alerius on the mask strap of a lady nearby.

The tug drew an indignant squeal, and the line of dancers behind them broke formation. Daniel tried to undo the knot, stepped back too far, and his boot landed on the hem of his partner’s gown. The fabric strained ominously.

“Do not dare” Alerius hissed, her posture firm, keeping her axis as if nothing had happened.

“I have never dared less” Daniel muttered.

The conductor, startled, shifted abruptly into another key to save them. The musicians had laughter in their eyes.

Among them, a lutenist in a short cloak and simple mask discreetly raised his instrument. Thanatos. His first chord fell like a witty remark, then came short, ironic phrases — a recognizable quotation from a tavern song, harmonized with elegance.

Several guests noticed, and a ripple of discreet laughter followed. The jester wove counterpoints into the melody, underlining every misstep of the “noble” Fidenzio.

Lady Alerius noticed the game but took no offense. She adjusted Daniel’s hand precisely at her waist, moved his shoulder closer by the necessary inch, and led the next figure with almost didactic clarity.

“Align this foot with the central mosaic. Use it as your axis point, and do not look at the floor. Look ahead!”

“Straight ahead is where the people are” Daniel retorted.

“Then pretend they are the officers’ boots.”

New sequence: short diagonal, segmented turn, “linked” steps, and open position. Daniel managed two clean beats. On the third, a gentleman brushed too close, and the side hem of Daniel’s coat caught on Alerius’ glove.

A couple behind collided lightly, toppling a nearby flower arrangement. Petals scattered across the floor. Three couples stepped on them, slipped, and regained balance awkwardly.

“This is going splendidly” Alerius remarked with dry sarcasm, her face perfectly serious.

“I was born to humiliate my dance partners” Daniel replied, attempting humor. “My apologies in advance.”

“Keep going. I am enjoying this.”

The onlookers now watched openly. The circle widened, murmurs spreading. Prebito, at a comfortable distance, spoke with two aristocrats, smiling faintly at the spectacle. Across the hall, Lais watched with arms crossed, her expression caught between annoyance and clinical curiosity.

Thanatos shifted his lute again, introducing a march-like rhythm. The effect was immediate — Daniel tried to adjust by ear, missed the beat, and in recovering, stepped firmly on the edge of Alerius’ gown.

The fabric stretched, and she locked her knees to keep it from tearing. The lady lifted her chin and, with her free hand, nudged Daniel’s shoulder just enough to release the hem.

“If you want me without the skirt, I think we are in the wrong setting” she said, a ghost of a smile on her lips. “Continue.”

“Lady Alerius, I fear we will enter the chronicles of Gran-Devana’s high society” he sighed, “for all the wrong reasons.”

“History rarely chooses the right reasons, Master de Lio. Give me your hand.”

The next “bridge” required precise synchronization. She passed beneath his arm and spun; he marked two beats in place and switched hands. Daniel was a fraction late. Alerius, quick, completed the figure alone, turned sharply back, and aligned Daniel’s hands at her waist, leading him without making it look like she was leading him.

It was the first clean figure they managed together. The surrounding circle gave a brief, polite applause.

“Better” she admitted.

“Perhaps I am learning.”

“Perhaps I am teaching.”

The conductor, sensing the shift, held the finale for one more round. Thanatos softened the mocking variations, as if giving Daniel a chance to exit with dignity.

The final steps passed without incident. Alerius ended with a restrained bow, and Grace returned it with the appropriate measure. Mixed applause and laughter followed.

Many whispered comments spread.

“Thank you for your patience” the traveler murmured.

“It was not patience” Alerius replied. “It was curiosity. And I confess — a bit of amusement. Your enemies cannot handle public stumbles. But the city loves the tale of a charming, clumsy noble who does not flee the floor. That is worth more than many speeches.”

“And about the earlier matter of alliances?”

Her expression turned serious.

“I met today with men who do not know how to hear ‘no.’ Senator Prebito smiles too much and thinks he has already won. It irritates me. But the dance amused me. So did your stubbornness. I will send a formal letter to Lord Juncuso, and my gold will go to the Coins.”

“I am grateful.”

“No need” Alerius said. “I expect to see you again. And tell your jester to stop quoting tavern songs. It is off-key for the hall.”

“I will… try.”

She turned and disappeared into the crowd. Lais approached.

“I do not know what was worse” the magus said. “The rhythm or Thanatos’ music.”

“I was out of practice” Daniel replied, adjusting his cloak with a faintly resentful sniff. “Thanatos overdid it.”

“He merely amplified the inevitable” Lais said, her tone sharp but not cruel. “At least it worked.”

Thanatos arrived grinning, nearly tiptoeing in his theatrical gait, now without the lute. The jester’s mask shimmered with multicolored plumes.

“Magnificent. The entire hall heard our musical jest. Rumors are already spreading. Lady Alerius spoke with two more financiers. One requested my ‘arrangement’ in writing.”

“I am never dancing in public again” Daniel said flatly.

“Empty promises of celebration” Thanatos teased with a wink. “I have less amusing news. Prebito’s soldiers are coming through the side corridors. It seems our esteemed host discovered a certain invasion of his office.”

“Damn it” Grace cursed. “We lingered too long.”

“They have no proof it was us, but they will ‘invite’ the famous Lord Fidenzio Crisci de Lio — notably the campaign leader of the Coins Party — for a little conversation.”

Daniel drew a deep breath, scanning the room.

Two Unconquered Sun Guards were climbing a secondary staircase toward the north wing. Another group circled through the hanging gardens.

The conductor began a new, slower piece. The entire hall turned toward the floor, giving them a minute’s cover.

“West exit” Lais said. “There is a covered walkway to the domed annex. From there, a service stairwell. I will clear the way.”

“I will close it” Thanatos volunteered. “I have a trick ready.”

“No explosions!” Daniel warned. “I do not want to turn this into a siege with an imperial guard unit and the entire Custodia Civilis on our heels.”

They moved like guests changing tables. A servant passed with a tray; Daniel took two glasses to keep up appearances and handed one to Lais.

In the corridor, golden light bathed the constant flow of guests, their laughter and chatter masking the group’s movements. Through arched windows, Castra Devana sprawled across the heart of the Senatorial Ring, a labyrinth of streets and towers.

The revelry muffled their steps.

“Three ahead” Lais warned, entering the walkway. “Pretend you are lost.”

Daniel moved forward naturally, brushing lightly against the rightmost guard.

“My apologies. I am looking for the restroom” he said with the proper tone of a bored noble.

The guards hesitated.

Thanatos, behind them, released a short note on a small flute hidden beneath his cloak. The sound was harmless but drew two masked guests to turn their heads, creating just enough distraction for Lais to slip past the side.

She traced two tiny runes on a bronze lamp fixture. The light flickered. The guards turned for a moment, and that was all the master thief needed.

They passed toward the service stairwell. A deeper murmur of orders drifted upward. Reaching the antechamber of the domed annex, they saw two soldiers searching cloaks.

“Now, jester!” Daniel ordered.

Thanatos scattered a handful of confetti onto the floor. They burst with harmless sparks and released a sweet fragrance. Several guests ran to see the trick. The soldiers hesitated again, pressured by etiquette. No one wanted to be the brute who ruined a performance.

Especially not at Senator Spiuso Onius Prebito’s party.

“This way!” Lais pointed to a half-open side door.

They emerged onto a high balcony, exposed to the wind. The city breathed coldly, the lamps of the Senatorial Ring tracing an arc of light to the horizon below.

“We got what we came for and lost what we could afford to lose” Daniel said, wiping sweat from his neck.

“We gained Lady Alerius” Thanatos said, clapping softly. “With style. I say this was a victory after all.”

“Do not call it style” Lais replied. “That ridiculous scene on the dance floor was luck.”

“Sometimes they are synonyms” Thanatos shrugged.

“Never again” Daniel muttered. “Let’s go.”

They descended the outer stairwell. A coachman awaited them, a man from the Fortress who opened the door without questions. As the wheels began to turn, Daniel leaned his head back and closed his eyes for a moment.

“Until the next ball” Thanatos sang softly, waving back toward the Onius family’s tower.

The failure of the debate still weighed heavily, but Lady Alerius’ gold had been an unexpected victory. The night ended in precarious balance — perhaps tipping slightly in their favor.

Ciniana was now free to act on behalf of the Coins.