The music stopped into a sudden, jarring void that left the ears ringing. One moment, the ballroom was a swirling vortex of silver and obsidian, and the next, it was just a room full of panting nobles and the smell of expensive, cooling wax. Verona felt the ghost of the waltz still humming in her feet, her heart doing a frantic little jig against her ribs.
"You have got to be joking," Elric mumbled, his hand still anchored firmly to the small of her back. He didn't let go. If anything, he pulled her half an inch closer, his shoulder brushing against hers as he stared daggers at the orchestra gallery. "That's all we get? I'm convinced the conductor is being paid by the minute to annoy me. Or perhaps he's just a sadist."
