Page 89 of A Dance Macabre

I drag my thumb under her bottom lip, fixing it, and she does the same to me. From the corner of my eye, I notice my signet ring on her finger catching the sun’s rays.

I snatch her hand and keep it near my mouth. Dragging my tongue over the skin next to the ring, I then press my lips to it as I keep my gaze fixed on Mercy.

“You never took it off,” I murmur into the ring.

It’s not a question.

Her eyes turn glassy as if I’ve triggered too many conflicting emotions for her to manage all at once.

She shakes her head.

While I study her, I let the sounds of the enlivened city fill the silent space between us.

It makes me think that maybe, there was always a part of her that never believed she would ever go through with it. Never believed she could ever send her god to claim me.

I latch onto that hope for the rest of the afternoon as I keep Mercy as close to me as possible, showcasing my claim on her for every person in Pravitia to witness.

47

WOLFGANG

At the bottom of a short flight of stairs, I open an industrial-looking door and enter The Tea Room. Now that the threat to our lives has been publicly—and privately—handled, we are finally able to traverse the city freely again.

Our victory has brought with it a fresh air of relief. I’ve been in dire need of stretching my legs and visiting someone who does not currently have my heart in a vice.

I’m looking forward to a night out with Aleksandr. I’ve been unable to see my best friend since his mother’s funeral. I even had to miss his birthday this year, a few days before Tithe Season began, due to the increase in security.

The Tea Room is another one of Aleksandr’s many bars around Pravitia. It’s a speakeasy known for its elaborate cocktails but much smaller than Vore.

The venue is packed as always. There’s nothing more alluring to common folk than the promise of depravity at a bar owned by the servant of excess.

The candles on every table and ornate sconces near the low ceiling create a dark but inviting atmosphere. There’s anunderstated opulence to the place with its large private booths and ceiling dripping with plants hanging from chains and wooden beams.

Nodding to the hostess, I hand her my coat before heading to the far back of the bar. No need to look for Aleksandr here, the corner booth is always reserved for him and his entourage.

I find him in conversation with some vapid leeches, a pink short-sleeved shirt unbuttoned to the middle of his tattooed chest, leaning back into the booth. By the look of the vacant boredom on his face, he’s anything but amused.

When he spots me approaching, he only needs a quick flick of his fingers for the gaggle of sycophants to disperse. While I wait for the table to clear, his hand disappears under the table, and I can only surmise that he’s signaling to whoever is under it servicing him to stay put.

Which reminds me …

“I forgot to mention,” I say while I slide into the booth. “The law against us six fornicating has been nullified.”

Aleksandr’s face slips from bored to shocked as he straightens abruptly. “What?”

“By the divine word of the Oracle,” I say with a smooth lift of an eyebrow.

This time, both of his hands disappear under the table, shoving whoever is down there away from him. The helpless rube lands on his side on the floor, body fully sprawled out. Quickly gathering himself, he doesn’t even glance back to Aleksandr before scurrying away.

“What do youmeanthe Oracle said so?” Aleksandr says while he zips himself up, hazel eyes questioning.

I let out a small sigh as if his interrogation is taxing me. I signal for a drink before answering. “Allegedly Mercy and I were always meant to … become an item.”

His shoulders fall. “Just you two, then.”

“Any of us. The law has been dissolved. Something about our generation ushering in a new era for Pravitia.”

“A new era?” Aleksandr mutters. He smooths a hand over his mustache while he takes in the news. “So that means …” He doesn’t need to finish his sentence for me to know what he’s insinuating.

---