Dancing with Cecilia was like partnering with controlled fire. Her movements were precise and powerful, reflecting the confidence that had made her such a formidable political figure despite her young age. Her crimson gown swirled around us as we moved through the more complex steps of what the orchestra had shifted to—a traditional Slatemark waltz that required both technical skill and perfect coordination between partners.
"You've been practicing," I observed as she executed a particularly challenging turn with flawless technique.
"Rachel insisted we all brush up on our formal dancing before tonight," Cecilia replied with a smile that held both amusement and satisfaction. "She said it would be embarrassing if the guild master's partners couldn't keep up with his skill level."
"Rachel said that, did she?" I asked, spinning Cecilia gracefully before drawing her back into the dance's embrace.
