he twirled her again and again. Tobias cocked his head at the two. “Look at the lovebirds.”
“Isn’t that precious?” Leila watched them and sighed. “Orion’s so kind. I swear to you, this is probably the happiest moment of her life.”
“Does Pippa like him?”
“Pippa likes everyone. She sees the world in rainbows. She is good and pure and thus assumes everyone else is the same.” Her gaze made its way back to Tobias. “I envy that sometimes. I wish I thought the world was beautiful.”
“If everything looks good and pure, then nothing’s truly beautiful. The ugliness is what makes beauty so distinct.”
“How poetic,” she teased.
“I’m a master poet, didn’t you know?” He held his chin high. “I wrote a poem for a girl once. There was a bit of confusion involved. I’d rather not talk about it.”
Leila chuckled. “Oh, stop it.”
He was quiet for a moment, enchanted by her laughter. “They’re Petros’s words. About the ugliness. He said life was ugly, and it was our job to find the beauty in it. Cast a light on it. Remind people that it’s there.”
She stared up at him with a steadfast smile, and he leaned in closer, lowering his voice to just above a whisper. “I don’t think the world is beautiful. But you are.”
A swell of pride pulsed through him as her smile widened. The line shifted—thank God—and he pulled her against him, wrapping his arm around her waist where it belonged. Soon after her gaze darted far from his, and she attempted to fight back a grin, a battle she was losing.
“What now?” he said.
“I have to watch myself when I’m with you. You make me feel as though we’re alone.”
“If only.”
Her eyes flitted from side to side. “I’m afraid we’re being conspicuous.”
“How so?”
“It’s all the smiling.”
“Oh? We’re too happy? Are we supposed to be miserable? I can do that.”
Tobias’s face dropped, and he let out a throaty sigh, sending Leila into a fit of giggles. “Tobias, you fool.”
“God, Leila, when will this night be over?” He groaned. “I’m dying here. Absolutely loathing your company.”
Her laughter cut short, and she stared past him, leaving him with strained silence.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
“Brontes is watching us.”
Tobias scoffed. “Good. Then he can see how utterly miserable I am with you.”
Leila didn’t respond, still focused on the Sovereign, wherever he was; Tobias didn’t dare look his way. He tilted his head, forcing his way into her line of sight. “Leila, it’s all right. He can’t hurt you.”
“Yes, he can.”
“He’ll have to hurt me first. Badly.”
She met his gaze, relaxing into his embrace. It was time for their final position, and he spun her before pulling her close, her body warm and wonderful against his. As they danced together, he studied the Sovereign out of the corner of his eye; he stood at the side of the atrium among a circle of men in colorful drapes—Wembleton, the Proctor, and a few unknowns—though his one-eyed glare was undoubtedly pointed in their direction.
“Who are those men skulking around him?”
Leila scowled. “The vultures.”
“Vultures?”
“His Senate.” She looked over her shoulder at them, not bothering to hide her disdain. “Vile. All of them.”
The Sovereign turned away, muttering with his Senate, and a wave of relief washed over Tobias. “Well, they seem to have stolen his attention. Lucky for us. We’re alone in a room full of people yet again.”
“Not for long.” Leila nodded at the line of dancers. “Time to switch.”
Tobias frowned. Didn’t we only just begin to dance? The dancers around him inevitably broke hold, and just as he was about to follow suit, a faulty idea sprang to mind. Without much consideration, he stumbled over Leila’s feet, throwing them out of line and sending them staggering across the floor.
“Tobias!”
“Apologies.” He tried to mask his grin. “My God, how clumsy of me.”
Leila laughed, her face bright red. “You’re bad.”
“Be kind, I only just learned these steps today.” He eyed the nearby couples. “Ignore us, we’re a mess.” He pointed to Leila. “It’s her fault, really.”
“Tobias!”
“You tripped me!” He turned to the other dancers. “She tripped me. Please, carry on. Go around us. Hopefully she’ll get it right this time.”
The dancers hesitated before continuing down the line, while Leila folded her arms, a phony glare plastered across her face. “You’re an ass.”
He held out his hand. “Dance with me.”
“That’s my line.”
“I couldn’t wait any longer.”
Her glare lost its power, and she placed her hand in his. Spinning her in a circle, he delved into his steps, keeping pace with the