“Oh please, simply call me Drake.” He said, smiling. “I assure you the honor and pleasure of our meeting is certainly mine.”
She lowered her eyelashes and walked next to him, allowing him to guide her to a group of people sitting at a table. “Pleasure can be shared, Count.” Flirting was not something she excelled at, but Rrayu had given her some tips and to her surprise, they seemed to work far better than she would have imagined possible.
“Indeed,” Drake said, giving her a brief but through leer. “Perhaps we can share more later.”
Callindra suppressed a shudder and kept her face down in case she couldn’t keep her feelings from showing. “Perhaps.”
“Drake, you old letch!” One of the men at the table laughed, “Always getting to the newest and prettiest girls first.”
“Come now; she’s not just a pretty face,” Drake said with a smile. “This young lady is The Sol’Estin.”
Most of the courtiers at the table made polite noises, either ambivalent about or ignorant of the title. Two of them stopped and gave her looks that did little to disguise their hostility.
“I thought they were warriors or sword fighters or something.” A young woman in a low cut black dress said, “Or is that just a title?”
Callindra took a glass of wine from a passing servant, ignoring the question. She focused on her surroundings and covertly kept an eye on the two hostile courtiers. One was a woman of striking beauty dressed in a comparatively severe gown and the other was a man who looked old but still well-muscled and hale.
“Nay Kapirnika, the title requires training and skill.” Drake said with a smile, “Rumor has it, Lady Callindra is quite accomplished with a blade.”
“Hardly seems proper for a Lady,” Kapirnika said, giving Callindra a mildly scandalized look.
“Well, in this age, we all must make sacrifices,” Callindra said, sipping her wine.
“Too true.” The woman across from her said.
Before the others could comment further, the chime sounded again, this time followed by an officious voice. “Lords Durrak Caverstorm and Lorin Blackthorn.”
The light illuminated the staircase and an odd pair, a tall and elegantly attired Elf standing next to a heavily armed and armored Dwarf. They were chatting as they walked down the staircase, apparently not paying any attention to the eyes that followed them. The Dwarf pulled something from a belt pouch and blew a cloud of bright blue smoke into the air with an accompanying exclamation.
“That pair finally showed up at a ball,” Drake said, looking at them with narrowed eyes. “I wonder what our Lady offered or threatened them with.”
“I don’t think the Dwarf would respond to threats passively.” The older man who had been glaring at her said.
“He has a history of obliterating threats quite actively.” Kapirnika said enthusiastically, “I don’t think the Elf should be assessed as any less capable, however. Have you seen him shoot his bow? Gives me chills.”
“Drake, see if you can get them to come over here.” The severely dressed woman said, “I’d love to take a closer look at that polearm he carries. Word has it Herself enchanted it for him so he could get his revenge on that menace of a dragon. More power to him if he can, for all I think he’s insane to try.”
“Zinneah, you’re only ever interested in whatever magic someone has.” Kapirnika said, “Don’t you ever think of anything else?”
Zinneah glared briefly at her before her gaze returned to Callindra, focusing on her right side. “Oh, I think of many things, Kapi dear, but I always come back to what’s important. Magic, power and weapons matter now more than anything else.”
Callindra toyed with the stem of her wine glass, “You mentioned a dragon? Would that be Cerioth?”
“What would you know of that?” She snapped, giving Callindra a more appraising look. “How did you manage to make it here alive anyway? Your guards must be quite competent.”
“Please excuse me,” Callindra said, setting her wine glass down as she rose. “I must go and speak with Lord Caverstorm.”