The center of the ballroom was a storm of whispers that followed Vane like a wake. As he led Isole off the polished marble, the music transitioned from the sweeping Imperial Waltz into a faster, more aggressive tempo. The biting frost left behind by the Absolute Zero had evaporated, but the social atmosphere remained freezing. Vane could feel the collective gaze of the Silver Wood elders burning into the back of his neck. It was a sharp, green-tinted resentment that felt like a physical weight. He did not turn around to acknowledge them.
He steered Isole toward a massive crystalline pillar at the edge of the hall. This was the fringe of the elite sector, a place where the shadows were deeper and the prying eyes of the lower nobility were slightly obscured by the glare of the mana-candles. Valerica and Ashe were already there, waiting in the sanctuary of the stone.
