The grand ballroom of the imperial palace was basically a spinning hurricane of shiny silk outfits, expensive jewelry, and the strong smell of fancy Northern wine mixed with heavy Capital perfume. Caught up in the orchestra's rhythm, Cherion guided Iryna through the crowd with ease, moving smoothly even though his brain was still doing chaotic backflips.
"You've got a surprisingly steady step, Lord Cherion," Iryna said, her voice cutting cleanly through the rising violins. Her silver hair caught the light of a thousand crystal chandeliers overhead as she moved effortlessly in sync with him. "Though I suppose someone who can stand up to the Crown Prince without immediately collapsing wouldn't be thrown off by a simple waltz."
Cherion gave a polite, carefully controlled smile, keeping exactly the right distance like he'd been trained by a very strict etiquette app. "Your Highness flatters me. I was mostly just trying to survive the situation without starting an incident."
