The dance floor was a polished mirror of moonlight and movement. Strings sang from the balconies above—delicate, brittle music like glass threatening to shatter.
Rashid led her into the circle of dancers. His hand was warm through his glove; his movements precise, deliberate.
Zareena followed without flinching.
Their bodies were inches apart. The space between them was tension held on a blade's edge.
Their first turn was silent.
Then he spoke, softly, without looking at her.
"They say you burned a creature born of shadow."
She let the silence linger a beat too long.
"I did. It screamed like a man."
"Good. Screams are honest."
Another turn. Their feet moved in perfect opposition—his smooth and assured, hers sharp and silent.
She said, "They also say you don't bleed. Is that true?"
A flicker of something in his eyes—amusement, perhaps. Or memory.
"Not often. But when I do, I make it count."
Her fingers tightened just slightly in his.
"You wrote that letter not to help me," she said quietly. "But to see what I'd do with it."
He smiled, not denying it. "You didn't disappoint."
"And now?"
"Now I wonder how far you'll rise. Or fall."
A pause.
"Which would you prefer to watch?" she asked.
His hand slid an inch closer to her back.
"Depends on whether I get to be the one who catches you."
She looked up at him then—fully, directly. Her silver-grey eyes were ice set in glass.
"Don't try to tame me, Alimov. You'll bleed more than you ever have."
"Oh, Lady Serinova," he murmured, dipping her low with effortless grace. "I don't want to tame you."
"I want to see if you'd bite."
Gasps rippled at the edge of the ballroom.
Nobles whispered from behind fans and wine goblets. Courtiers leaned toward each other, hungry for scandal. Her siblings watched from across the hall—uneasy, wide-eyed. Her aunt's jaw tensed with poorly concealed rage.
But Zareena didn't care.
The music built to its final sweep, and she rose from the dip on her own, brushing past him with glacial elegance.
The dance ended.
She left him standing there, hand still extended.
"If you want a war, Rashid," she said over her shoulder, "next time, bring fire."
He laughed under his breath.
And everyone watched the flames ignite behind her as she walked away.