Getting the servants back to the kitchen proved to be a bit of a task, considering the fact that they both had to be carried, and their captive dragged, while still maintaining as much stealth as possible. Not a simple task by any estimation, but fortunately the kitchens were before they needed to worry overmuch about running into anyone they did not know.
Syl was present when the other two were brought in; her relief was palpable, and her gratitude such that she acquiesced easily when Leon asked her convey the hostageâaliveâto the Lord-General, along with a message penned hastily in Leon's own handwriting. He was confident that if anyone would have a place to keep the man under guard while the Inquisition moved about, it would be him. He was also quite sure that it would be done; Lucien had indicated that his father was a reliable ally.
Of course, this alone did not solve all of their problems. Though he'd made some effort not to end up soaked, Leon hadn't cared about that nearly enough to actually avoid water, and so there were several large, slightly-darker patches on the umber-colored tunic he wore. Hopefully they would dry soon. He'd at least managed to avoid blood, having needed no knives to aid him in the fight. The same could not be said for the other two; though he could notice the darker patches on Zahra's dress or Romulus's shirt, he hoped that was only because he knew to look, and not because they were obvious in general. The kitchen servants gave them towels to take care of what they could, but Leon was keenly feeling the time.
No sooner had they departed the kitchen than a deep chime rang out over the groundsâthe top of the hour approached. Shooting at glance at the other two, Leon abandoned the effort at stealth for the moment and broke into a run. Fortunately, the side hallways had been emptied due to the hour, and there was no one to spot three members of the Inquisition moving as fast as they could reasonably manage for the ballroom.
The chimes were still ringing when they made it to their destination, though it looked as though most everyone was already lining up for the first dance, partners in tow. Leon tsked under his breath. "You two go," he said quietly, glancing around. "I'll figure something out." It would look quite bad for them if any of them abstained, but for no one would it look worse than Romulus.
Romulus had hastily thrown his mask back on only a few seconds prior. Close inspection of him revealed that there was a bit of a tremor running through him, though it might be unfair to say that he looked particularly nervous. He had practiced this part quite thoroughly in Skyhold, learning the steps and repeating them until he could perform the routine blindfolded even in a crowd. Still, he didn't look enthused at all now that the time to do it for real had come.
He shrugged slightly at Zahra. "Looks like we're partners to start."
âI couldnât pick a better one.â There was a sense that Zahra was saying it more for his benefit then her own. She smoothed her hands over the front of her dress, and readjusted the mask on her face. It had been sitting slightly askew; and there was a stubborn twig stuck in her hair just above her ear. Besides that she looked a little worse for wear from tussle theyâd just experienced. Nothing that couldnât be explained away.
She inclined her head in the direction of the dance floor and linked her arm through his, leading him out towards it. From what Leon could see from their retreating backs, sheâd given his arm a squeeze and whispered something under her breath. Youâre okay. Letâs do this. The words were lost with the last chime. No doubt sheâd had her own lessons in Skyhold⊠though they mightâve had more to do with etiquette than anything else, light on her feet as she was.
Leon, meanwhile, had a bit of a conundrum on his hands: he needed to find someone who might not mind doing him a favor and dancing. Not a terribly simple matter when the majority of the dancing crowd was ready to go. He also hadn't exactly spend much of his time so far meeting new people, which meant options were quite few. He couldn't reasonably expect himself to convince anyone he'd been admiring them from afar, either: plenty of kinds of lies came easily to him, but he was still an awkward Chantry boy at heart in this one particular way.
"Ser Leonhardt!" The call wasn't loud enough to be called shouting or yelling, but it did carry well. He turned towards the source, finding that Lady Fiorella was making her way towards him. Lord Sabino was nowhere to be seen. She paused just a moment to curtsy, then spoke in a much lower voice. "Forgive me the presumption, but you have the look of a fellow rather at a loss." She half-smiled.
"I'm not sure where you've been for the last near-hour, but I'm going to guess you were not filling your dance card."
She had him there. "No, milady," he admitted. "I'm afraid it's quite empty."
"Well, not exactly an exciting way to help, but I did promise I would, so perhaps you wouldn't mind dancing with little old me?" It was clearly a joke; though she was considerably older than him, she didn't qualify as 'old' in his perception. Little was rather true, though; she couldn't have been any taller than Khari. Perhaps an inch or two shorter, even.
He felt a stab of his usual discomfit with his own size, but shook his head. Mostly he was relieved. "It isn't the most glamorous favor," he said, nodding his agreement, "but I would very much appreciate it all the same."
"Good. Let's hurry before they start without us." Lady Fiorella took his arm and navigated them through the crowd, chuckling under her breath. "I never have this easy a time moving around at these things. I think they're all scared to run into you." For some reason, this clearly amused her greatly.
They made it to the end of the line of dancers in the nick of time. Leon glanced down the row, noting that for the most part, the members of the Inquisition had started paired with one another. Matters were becoming more urgent; whatever plots were in motion were surely nearing their completion already. The best thing to do would be to figure out what they were doing without wasting time. If he planned this right, he might be able to get all the information he needed during the dance itself. Worth trying, anyway. He memorized the initial arrangement of the dancers and did some internal calculation. Unsurprisingly, Vesryn and Estella were together. Lined up next to them were Cyrus and Rilien, then Marceline and Michaël, then Khari and Asala. Several pairs of other courtiers, then Lucien and the Lord-General's aide, more strangers, and then Romulus and Zahra, who'd clearly found their places.
This was feasible. The opening dance would involve a lot of partner switching. If he could remember how the pattern went far enough in advance, he might be able to get to speak with the few people necessary to cover the bases, so to speak. The strategic puzzle of it was rather a nice distraction from the fact that he'd surely be exchanging a lot of empty pleasantries with courtiers in the meantime.
From the side of the room, the Bards began to play. Leon took a step forward, meeting Lady Fiorella's raised hand with his own, grateful that only minimal contact was necessary at any point, and also that Orlesians generally didn't care who led, who followed, or what gender combinations were involved.
He spent the first part of the dance letting the adrenaline come down from the fight and run earlier, a process which was always quite slow for him. A side-effect, perhaps, of his condition. Lady Fiorella didn't try to force conversation, for which he was grateful. Then the first switch came, and Leon found his left palm pressed to Lady Marceline's right.
"Gaspard planned to hold the nobles hostage if the Heralds didn't hand him the crown," he said without preamble. "We've got a witness to this effect in the Lord-General's custody. Was everything uneventful in here?"
"Not as such, no," she replied. "There was an incident with one of the Heralds, Phillipe, the one Gaspard was seen with earlier. Lord Julien found him murdered, with Gaspard's blade still stuck in his chest," she explained just as quickly. She let a glance fall around them for a moment before she quickly continued, "It would be obvious to everyone that someone is attempting to frame him from the scene, save the Grand Duke himself. Julien suggested that we trail Gaspard once he hears, in order to gather more information."
It wasn't entirely surprising that the missing Herald was dead, nor that someone would frame Gaspard for it. That the frame-up was obvious rather than subtle was a bit odd, but Marceline's hypothesis explained that well enough. He thought about it for a bit, then sighed softly.
"He's not the most dissembling man, no. It shouldn't be that difficult to follow him. Perhaps you could take Khari, Vesryn, and Cyrus to do it? The important part would be stopping the trap, whatever it turns out to be." If it was a straightforward attempt at murder, those three would indubitably be a lot of help. If not, well, they'd still do as well as anyone else.
"Ooh! I'm sorry," Leon overheard Asala's voice from behind Marceline. A look up revealed the woman in question, dancing with Romulus. Apparently, she must have accidentally stepped on his toes, as she stared at their feet, and looked a little bashful about the incident.
Romulus was grimacing. He didn't have the hardest boots, and Asala was not a small woman. "Relax," he reminded her. "I've seen you do this right before."
"That was different," she pouted quietly. As quickly as they came however, they faded back into the rest of the crowd.
Marceline considered Leon's words for a moment as well, before she too nodded in agreement. "Yes, we will be able to handle it. I will pass the plan along."
To his left, Estella transitioned easily from Rilien's company to Lucien's; she seemed about as relaxed as she could be, given the situation. No doubt her good fortune in partners thus far had a great deal to do with that.
Leon turned with the music, away from Marceline, and then found himself needing to adjust down by several inches. It was not an unwelcome change, however; he spared his first genuine smile of the dance for Khari. "Broken any toes yet?"
She grinned at him. âNope. Still just the nose. I like Cy and Asala, though. Worked extra hard not to step on them." She fell silent as the footwork moved through one of the more complex sequences. She wasn't practiced enough yet that she could do those without thinking about them, but to her credit, she was quite smooth in her motions when she was able to concentrate like this. âI'm guessing Marcy told you about the dead guy and the dagger, right?" Apparently, she'd been able to keep track of at least some of the partner-switching as well.
Khari's dress swished softly around her ankles as they spun apart, then back together again. She seemed to particularly enjoy that part. âAlso, uh... why are you wet, Leon?" She raised an eyebrow at a rapidly-drying spot on his shoulder.
"There was a bit of an altercation near a water feature," he confessed. "I'll tell you about it in more detail later if you like, but the short version is that Gaspard hired some mercenaries and we ran afoul of them in our investigations of the garden." He shook his head slightly, lifting his hand to spin her again, this time still in contact for the process. "Anything else I should know on your end?"
âI missed a fight?" Khari gave an exaggerated groan of frustration. âI always miss the fun part." With a huff, he completed her spin and took a step backwards before they both moved to the left.
Leon was pretty sure she usually was the 'fun part' of whatever situation she was in, but he neglected to make the point at this particular moment.
âStop making that face, Iâm not even stepping on your toes,â came a familiar voice off to Leonâs right shoulder, carrying itself to his opposing side. A flash of royal purple came into his view and fluttered in a circle. It appeared as if Cyrus was leading Zahra, obviously being the superior dancer; though she was trying to wrest some sort of control and failing miserably. To her credit, she was keeping up. Barely.
âWhat face? I'm not making any face in particular; I'm in fact always this handsome. The mask is a tragedy, I know." From the lofty tone of Cyrus's voice, he wasn't being at all serious; he seemed to be enjoying himself, actually. âI'm only being careful. The boots are a charmingly-rebellious touch, just not necessarily one I want touching me, you understand."
There was a loud ha sound as Zahra attempted to force Cyrus into a spin and was instead forced to slide her foot forward, chasing his retreating feet with hers, like a fox on a hunt. âMy apologies, serah lordling. How presumptuous of me to dismiss your allure.â Her voice had lauded into a noxious, feigned cadence. Perhaps her best impression of the ladies sheâd seen in Orlais.
There was a stomping noise. Then another laugh. Genuine, this time. It was apparent sheâd missed her mark.
âI'll do my best to recover from the utter heartbreak you have just dealt me, dear captain. But I fear I shall never be the same. I hope you can live with the guilt of ruining me for anyone else." Cyrus gracefully stepped out from another attempt to stomp on his feet, grinning at Zahra in a way that suggested he was goading her more than actually concerned with stopping her from doing so. They faded from earshot after that, swallowed temporarily by the throng.
âActually though." Khari, having been momentarily distracted by Zahra and Cyrus's exchange, returned to the matter at hand. âYes. Ril says Lucien thinks someone's trying to kill him. He wants to use himself as bait to draw them out, and is asking for some of us to go with, just in case." From the way her mouth pulled to the side, she doubted very much he'd need it.
It was... quite the risky plan. Leon presumed this was some diluted version of the evidence Lucien had for this conclusion, but even if so. His brows furrowed beneath his mask; his lips thinned contemplatively, and he almost missed a step in the next sequence, distracted as he was. Fortunately, he avoided crushing Khari's toes. He doubted she would have cared even if he hadâhe'd seen her ignore levels of pain that would probably bring most to their knees. He still had no desire to inflict any on her.
He had a feeling Estella and Rilien would both want to be present for that, and he couldn't blame them. Lucien was more than just an ally to them, and more than just a potential claimant for the throne. He wouldn't keep them from assisting him if it were possible. He didn't think they'd be quite enough alone, though, and mentally he ran through the list of who was left.
"If Rilien and Estella go, could you be sure Asala knows to go as well?" It was very important to keep Lucien alive, and no doubt between them, that group would manage about as well as anyone."I believe Lady Marceline will be collecting you for another assassination problem," he added. He knew she was Asala's partner to begin with, which meant she'd surely wind up with her at the end as well. It made her ideal for passing the message, in any case.
Khari brightened a little at this suggestion. âSure. I'll make sure everyone knows. Looks like it's time to switch, though. I'll see you in a bit, Leon." She stepped away, the smoothness of her gait hitching awkwardly when she caught sight of the person moving in exactly the opposite direction. Apparently Romulus was her next partner, and it seemed Khari was a bit nonplussed by that. She recovered quickly, though, and finished her movement without hesitation.
âLook at you. Four partners in, and dancing still hasn't killed ya."
A bit of his tension seemed to ease at that. Or maybe it just shifted into something else. "We'll see when we're done here, I guess." The dancers shifted, and they passed out of sight.
Not far from Leon, Estella and Cyrus met up as well; the latter tossed him a jaunty mock-salute when they made accidental eye contact. The twins had quite possibly learned dancing in each others' company; they certainly seemed to move like they were very familiar with this dimension of each other in addition to the rest.
Leon, for his part, found himself partnered with Zahra. "Dizzy yet? I can't tell if I'm spinning or the room is."
Zahraâs laugh came easily as she took his hand in hers and momentarily swayed. Possibly to keep from spinning anymore than they had to. âI think itâs a bit of both. For once, Iâm glad I havenât had anything to drink.â She made a humming sound in the back of her throat and grinned wider, waggling an eyebrow and leading them further away from an oncoming couple. Strangers, from the looks of it.
A sweep of purple followed her steps as she followed through another spin, albeit at a slower pace. Casual. Languid. It enabled her to swing back in towards his chest and draw herself closer, hand poised to their sideâclose enough to speak without being heard. The height difference was on par with Khariâs; distinctive enough to warrant bending down, though she occasionally bobbed up, bringing herself up on her toes. âAnything of note?â
Leon scoffed softly, a sound of humor rather than irritation, though he sobered quickly enough with the question. "Quite a lot. So far we have two attempted assassinations upcoming, and people who are going to try and stop both. Did Cyrus or Vesryn have anything of interest to pass on? I haven't been able to speak with anyone who went to the meeting with Q."
From the expression on Zahraâs face, she seemed halfway between an exasperated sigh and a groan that mightâve said she expected such impossible odds stacked against them. She pursed her lips and spun them in a slow circle, before back-stepping into a square pattern. âApparently Corypheus isnât the only schemer here. Q wants the Empress deposed. Weâre to steal a document hidden in the royal wing library. Personal offices. A contract of payment for Gaspardâs head.â
This time, she allowed the sigh to slip past her lips, âWeâve got our work cut out for us.â
Oh wonderful. At least that was a very big clue as to who wanted Gaspard dead. If they could find the contract and it did tie back to Celene, that would be a bit of news every bit as revelatory as the mercenary in the Lord-General's custody. "I suppose the three of us could take care of that," he said. "When you end up back with Romulus, please do let him know. We only have about another hour until midnight, when the unmasking happens. I'm sure everyone else plans to have their plans in order by then; if we want to do the same, we'd best be on time."
He'd been reliably informed on more than one occasion that Orlesians really had a fondness for the dramatic. Leon couldn't help but feel even they'd be getting their fill of it by the time the night was done.
Zahra nodded her head and suddenly leaned back in a dramatic bow. Pegging on the fact that Leon wouldnât allow her to fall in an embarrassing heap. As soon as she straightened up in his arms and allowed him to relegate her pace, she glanced to the side of him and offered him a thoughtful smile, âHopefully after all this is said in done, we can finally eat some of this Orlesian food Iâve been hearing so much about and not⊠actually eating.â
Syl was present when the other two were brought in; her relief was palpable, and her gratitude such that she acquiesced easily when Leon asked her convey the hostageâaliveâto the Lord-General, along with a message penned hastily in Leon's own handwriting. He was confident that if anyone would have a place to keep the man under guard while the Inquisition moved about, it would be him. He was also quite sure that it would be done; Lucien had indicated that his father was a reliable ally.
Of course, this alone did not solve all of their problems. Though he'd made some effort not to end up soaked, Leon hadn't cared about that nearly enough to actually avoid water, and so there were several large, slightly-darker patches on the umber-colored tunic he wore. Hopefully they would dry soon. He'd at least managed to avoid blood, having needed no knives to aid him in the fight. The same could not be said for the other two; though he could notice the darker patches on Zahra's dress or Romulus's shirt, he hoped that was only because he knew to look, and not because they were obvious in general. The kitchen servants gave them towels to take care of what they could, but Leon was keenly feeling the time.
No sooner had they departed the kitchen than a deep chime rang out over the groundsâthe top of the hour approached. Shooting at glance at the other two, Leon abandoned the effort at stealth for the moment and broke into a run. Fortunately, the side hallways had been emptied due to the hour, and there was no one to spot three members of the Inquisition moving as fast as they could reasonably manage for the ballroom.
The chimes were still ringing when they made it to their destination, though it looked as though most everyone was already lining up for the first dance, partners in tow. Leon tsked under his breath. "You two go," he said quietly, glancing around. "I'll figure something out." It would look quite bad for them if any of them abstained, but for no one would it look worse than Romulus.
Romulus had hastily thrown his mask back on only a few seconds prior. Close inspection of him revealed that there was a bit of a tremor running through him, though it might be unfair to say that he looked particularly nervous. He had practiced this part quite thoroughly in Skyhold, learning the steps and repeating them until he could perform the routine blindfolded even in a crowd. Still, he didn't look enthused at all now that the time to do it for real had come.
He shrugged slightly at Zahra. "Looks like we're partners to start."
âI couldnât pick a better one.â There was a sense that Zahra was saying it more for his benefit then her own. She smoothed her hands over the front of her dress, and readjusted the mask on her face. It had been sitting slightly askew; and there was a stubborn twig stuck in her hair just above her ear. Besides that she looked a little worse for wear from tussle theyâd just experienced. Nothing that couldnât be explained away.
She inclined her head in the direction of the dance floor and linked her arm through his, leading him out towards it. From what Leon could see from their retreating backs, sheâd given his arm a squeeze and whispered something under her breath. Youâre okay. Letâs do this. The words were lost with the last chime. No doubt sheâd had her own lessons in Skyhold⊠though they mightâve had more to do with etiquette than anything else, light on her feet as she was.
Leon, meanwhile, had a bit of a conundrum on his hands: he needed to find someone who might not mind doing him a favor and dancing. Not a terribly simple matter when the majority of the dancing crowd was ready to go. He also hadn't exactly spend much of his time so far meeting new people, which meant options were quite few. He couldn't reasonably expect himself to convince anyone he'd been admiring them from afar, either: plenty of kinds of lies came easily to him, but he was still an awkward Chantry boy at heart in this one particular way.
"Ser Leonhardt!" The call wasn't loud enough to be called shouting or yelling, but it did carry well. He turned towards the source, finding that Lady Fiorella was making her way towards him. Lord Sabino was nowhere to be seen. She paused just a moment to curtsy, then spoke in a much lower voice. "Forgive me the presumption, but you have the look of a fellow rather at a loss." She half-smiled.
"I'm not sure where you've been for the last near-hour, but I'm going to guess you were not filling your dance card."
She had him there. "No, milady," he admitted. "I'm afraid it's quite empty."
"Well, not exactly an exciting way to help, but I did promise I would, so perhaps you wouldn't mind dancing with little old me?" It was clearly a joke; though she was considerably older than him, she didn't qualify as 'old' in his perception. Little was rather true, though; she couldn't have been any taller than Khari. Perhaps an inch or two shorter, even.
He felt a stab of his usual discomfit with his own size, but shook his head. Mostly he was relieved. "It isn't the most glamorous favor," he said, nodding his agreement, "but I would very much appreciate it all the same."
"Good. Let's hurry before they start without us." Lady Fiorella took his arm and navigated them through the crowd, chuckling under her breath. "I never have this easy a time moving around at these things. I think they're all scared to run into you." For some reason, this clearly amused her greatly.
They made it to the end of the line of dancers in the nick of time. Leon glanced down the row, noting that for the most part, the members of the Inquisition had started paired with one another. Matters were becoming more urgent; whatever plots were in motion were surely nearing their completion already. The best thing to do would be to figure out what they were doing without wasting time. If he planned this right, he might be able to get all the information he needed during the dance itself. Worth trying, anyway. He memorized the initial arrangement of the dancers and did some internal calculation. Unsurprisingly, Vesryn and Estella were together. Lined up next to them were Cyrus and Rilien, then Marceline and Michaël, then Khari and Asala. Several pairs of other courtiers, then Lucien and the Lord-General's aide, more strangers, and then Romulus and Zahra, who'd clearly found their places.
This was feasible. The opening dance would involve a lot of partner switching. If he could remember how the pattern went far enough in advance, he might be able to get to speak with the few people necessary to cover the bases, so to speak. The strategic puzzle of it was rather a nice distraction from the fact that he'd surely be exchanging a lot of empty pleasantries with courtiers in the meantime.
From the side of the room, the Bards began to play. Leon took a step forward, meeting Lady Fiorella's raised hand with his own, grateful that only minimal contact was necessary at any point, and also that Orlesians generally didn't care who led, who followed, or what gender combinations were involved.
He spent the first part of the dance letting the adrenaline come down from the fight and run earlier, a process which was always quite slow for him. A side-effect, perhaps, of his condition. Lady Fiorella didn't try to force conversation, for which he was grateful. Then the first switch came, and Leon found his left palm pressed to Lady Marceline's right.
"Gaspard planned to hold the nobles hostage if the Heralds didn't hand him the crown," he said without preamble. "We've got a witness to this effect in the Lord-General's custody. Was everything uneventful in here?"
"Not as such, no," she replied. "There was an incident with one of the Heralds, Phillipe, the one Gaspard was seen with earlier. Lord Julien found him murdered, with Gaspard's blade still stuck in his chest," she explained just as quickly. She let a glance fall around them for a moment before she quickly continued, "It would be obvious to everyone that someone is attempting to frame him from the scene, save the Grand Duke himself. Julien suggested that we trail Gaspard once he hears, in order to gather more information."
It wasn't entirely surprising that the missing Herald was dead, nor that someone would frame Gaspard for it. That the frame-up was obvious rather than subtle was a bit odd, but Marceline's hypothesis explained that well enough. He thought about it for a bit, then sighed softly.
"He's not the most dissembling man, no. It shouldn't be that difficult to follow him. Perhaps you could take Khari, Vesryn, and Cyrus to do it? The important part would be stopping the trap, whatever it turns out to be." If it was a straightforward attempt at murder, those three would indubitably be a lot of help. If not, well, they'd still do as well as anyone else.
"Ooh! I'm sorry," Leon overheard Asala's voice from behind Marceline. A look up revealed the woman in question, dancing with Romulus. Apparently, she must have accidentally stepped on his toes, as she stared at their feet, and looked a little bashful about the incident.
Romulus was grimacing. He didn't have the hardest boots, and Asala was not a small woman. "Relax," he reminded her. "I've seen you do this right before."
"That was different," she pouted quietly. As quickly as they came however, they faded back into the rest of the crowd.
Marceline considered Leon's words for a moment as well, before she too nodded in agreement. "Yes, we will be able to handle it. I will pass the plan along."
To his left, Estella transitioned easily from Rilien's company to Lucien's; she seemed about as relaxed as she could be, given the situation. No doubt her good fortune in partners thus far had a great deal to do with that.
Leon turned with the music, away from Marceline, and then found himself needing to adjust down by several inches. It was not an unwelcome change, however; he spared his first genuine smile of the dance for Khari. "Broken any toes yet?"
She grinned at him. âNope. Still just the nose. I like Cy and Asala, though. Worked extra hard not to step on them." She fell silent as the footwork moved through one of the more complex sequences. She wasn't practiced enough yet that she could do those without thinking about them, but to her credit, she was quite smooth in her motions when she was able to concentrate like this. âI'm guessing Marcy told you about the dead guy and the dagger, right?" Apparently, she'd been able to keep track of at least some of the partner-switching as well.
Khari's dress swished softly around her ankles as they spun apart, then back together again. She seemed to particularly enjoy that part. âAlso, uh... why are you wet, Leon?" She raised an eyebrow at a rapidly-drying spot on his shoulder.
"There was a bit of an altercation near a water feature," he confessed. "I'll tell you about it in more detail later if you like, but the short version is that Gaspard hired some mercenaries and we ran afoul of them in our investigations of the garden." He shook his head slightly, lifting his hand to spin her again, this time still in contact for the process. "Anything else I should know on your end?"
âI missed a fight?" Khari gave an exaggerated groan of frustration. âI always miss the fun part." With a huff, he completed her spin and took a step backwards before they both moved to the left.
Leon was pretty sure she usually was the 'fun part' of whatever situation she was in, but he neglected to make the point at this particular moment.
âStop making that face, Iâm not even stepping on your toes,â came a familiar voice off to Leonâs right shoulder, carrying itself to his opposing side. A flash of royal purple came into his view and fluttered in a circle. It appeared as if Cyrus was leading Zahra, obviously being the superior dancer; though she was trying to wrest some sort of control and failing miserably. To her credit, she was keeping up. Barely.
âWhat face? I'm not making any face in particular; I'm in fact always this handsome. The mask is a tragedy, I know." From the lofty tone of Cyrus's voice, he wasn't being at all serious; he seemed to be enjoying himself, actually. âI'm only being careful. The boots are a charmingly-rebellious touch, just not necessarily one I want touching me, you understand."
There was a loud ha sound as Zahra attempted to force Cyrus into a spin and was instead forced to slide her foot forward, chasing his retreating feet with hers, like a fox on a hunt. âMy apologies, serah lordling. How presumptuous of me to dismiss your allure.â Her voice had lauded into a noxious, feigned cadence. Perhaps her best impression of the ladies sheâd seen in Orlais.
There was a stomping noise. Then another laugh. Genuine, this time. It was apparent sheâd missed her mark.
âI'll do my best to recover from the utter heartbreak you have just dealt me, dear captain. But I fear I shall never be the same. I hope you can live with the guilt of ruining me for anyone else." Cyrus gracefully stepped out from another attempt to stomp on his feet, grinning at Zahra in a way that suggested he was goading her more than actually concerned with stopping her from doing so. They faded from earshot after that, swallowed temporarily by the throng.
âActually though." Khari, having been momentarily distracted by Zahra and Cyrus's exchange, returned to the matter at hand. âYes. Ril says Lucien thinks someone's trying to kill him. He wants to use himself as bait to draw them out, and is asking for some of us to go with, just in case." From the way her mouth pulled to the side, she doubted very much he'd need it.
It was... quite the risky plan. Leon presumed this was some diluted version of the evidence Lucien had for this conclusion, but even if so. His brows furrowed beneath his mask; his lips thinned contemplatively, and he almost missed a step in the next sequence, distracted as he was. Fortunately, he avoided crushing Khari's toes. He doubted she would have cared even if he hadâhe'd seen her ignore levels of pain that would probably bring most to their knees. He still had no desire to inflict any on her.
He had a feeling Estella and Rilien would both want to be present for that, and he couldn't blame them. Lucien was more than just an ally to them, and more than just a potential claimant for the throne. He wouldn't keep them from assisting him if it were possible. He didn't think they'd be quite enough alone, though, and mentally he ran through the list of who was left.
"If Rilien and Estella go, could you be sure Asala knows to go as well?" It was very important to keep Lucien alive, and no doubt between them, that group would manage about as well as anyone."I believe Lady Marceline will be collecting you for another assassination problem," he added. He knew she was Asala's partner to begin with, which meant she'd surely wind up with her at the end as well. It made her ideal for passing the message, in any case.
Khari brightened a little at this suggestion. âSure. I'll make sure everyone knows. Looks like it's time to switch, though. I'll see you in a bit, Leon." She stepped away, the smoothness of her gait hitching awkwardly when she caught sight of the person moving in exactly the opposite direction. Apparently Romulus was her next partner, and it seemed Khari was a bit nonplussed by that. She recovered quickly, though, and finished her movement without hesitation.
âLook at you. Four partners in, and dancing still hasn't killed ya."
A bit of his tension seemed to ease at that. Or maybe it just shifted into something else. "We'll see when we're done here, I guess." The dancers shifted, and they passed out of sight.
Not far from Leon, Estella and Cyrus met up as well; the latter tossed him a jaunty mock-salute when they made accidental eye contact. The twins had quite possibly learned dancing in each others' company; they certainly seemed to move like they were very familiar with this dimension of each other in addition to the rest.
Leon, for his part, found himself partnered with Zahra. "Dizzy yet? I can't tell if I'm spinning or the room is."
Zahraâs laugh came easily as she took his hand in hers and momentarily swayed. Possibly to keep from spinning anymore than they had to. âI think itâs a bit of both. For once, Iâm glad I havenât had anything to drink.â She made a humming sound in the back of her throat and grinned wider, waggling an eyebrow and leading them further away from an oncoming couple. Strangers, from the looks of it.
A sweep of purple followed her steps as she followed through another spin, albeit at a slower pace. Casual. Languid. It enabled her to swing back in towards his chest and draw herself closer, hand poised to their sideâclose enough to speak without being heard. The height difference was on par with Khariâs; distinctive enough to warrant bending down, though she occasionally bobbed up, bringing herself up on her toes. âAnything of note?â
Leon scoffed softly, a sound of humor rather than irritation, though he sobered quickly enough with the question. "Quite a lot. So far we have two attempted assassinations upcoming, and people who are going to try and stop both. Did Cyrus or Vesryn have anything of interest to pass on? I haven't been able to speak with anyone who went to the meeting with Q."
From the expression on Zahraâs face, she seemed halfway between an exasperated sigh and a groan that mightâve said she expected such impossible odds stacked against them. She pursed her lips and spun them in a slow circle, before back-stepping into a square pattern. âApparently Corypheus isnât the only schemer here. Q wants the Empress deposed. Weâre to steal a document hidden in the royal wing library. Personal offices. A contract of payment for Gaspardâs head.â
This time, she allowed the sigh to slip past her lips, âWeâve got our work cut out for us.â
Oh wonderful. At least that was a very big clue as to who wanted Gaspard dead. If they could find the contract and it did tie back to Celene, that would be a bit of news every bit as revelatory as the mercenary in the Lord-General's custody. "I suppose the three of us could take care of that," he said. "When you end up back with Romulus, please do let him know. We only have about another hour until midnight, when the unmasking happens. I'm sure everyone else plans to have their plans in order by then; if we want to do the same, we'd best be on time."
He'd been reliably informed on more than one occasion that Orlesians really had a fondness for the dramatic. Leon couldn't help but feel even they'd be getting their fill of it by the time the night was done.
Zahra nodded her head and suddenly leaned back in a dramatic bow. Pegging on the fact that Leon wouldnât allow her to fall in an embarrassing heap. As soon as she straightened up in his arms and allowed him to relegate her pace, she glanced to the side of him and offered him a thoughtful smile, âHopefully after all this is said in done, we can finally eat some of this Orlesian food Iâve been hearing so much about and not⊠actually eating.â