Shattered Innocence: Transmigrated Into a Novel as an Extra

Chapter 1149: From the Outside

Selphine’s fingers tightened inside Reilan’s hand.

He felt it. His gaze returned to her for a moment, carrying the beginning of a question, and she loosened her grip before he could ask it.

The music carried them onward.

Selphine followed his lead through the crossing figure, allowing the familiar sequence to govern her feet while she considered the irritation she had no intention of naming. Reilan had been attentive when the Measure began. Quiet, certainly, but his silences had belonged to her, and she had managed to draw enough reactions from him to make the effort worthwhile.

Now, however, his attention kept straying toward the neighboring circuit.

Selphine followed it.

Lucavion and Elowyn had separated at the outer edge of a turn. Their hands remained joined, their arms stretched between them, and for one breath it appeared that the prescribed sequence would carry them apart before returning them along the same line.

Lucavion stepped across Elowyn’s path instead.

—SWOOSH!

Her dress swept outward as he redirected her momentum. Elowyn’s heel turned, her body slipping past his shoulder before Lucavion curved behind her and caught her from the opposite side. The transition should have broken their rhythm. Instead, Elowyn answered the alteration so quickly that the mistake became part of the dance before anyone could decide whether it had been one.

Selphine’s brows drew together.

”That is rather energetic for someone who skipped the lessons.”

Reilan looked back at her. ”What?”

”The dance preparation,” she said, adjusting beneath his raised hand as their own turn approached. ”Toven complained throughout dinner that Lucavion disappeared before they finished teaching the paired portion.”

”I remember.”

Reilan’s answer sounded ordinary. His expression did not.

He seemed puzzled by Lucavion’s performance, but not surprised enough for a man watching an apparent novice dismantle the Court Variation and rebuild it as he pleased.

Selphine returned to frame and rested her hand against Reilan’s shoulder. ”He does not look like someone who barely attended.”

”That seems obvious.”

It was too careful.

Reilan could be quiet without effort. This silence had been arranged.

Selphine allowed several measures to pass before asking, ”Are you familiar with Lorian dances?”

His next step landed harder than the music required.

—TAP.

The sound disappeared beneath the instruments, though the pressure traveled clearly through their joined hands. Reilan’s gaze snapped back to her.

”Why would you ask that?”

Selphine nearly smiled. She had asked about dancing. Reilan had responded as if she had discovered something hidden beneath his coat.

”Curiosity.”

”You usually have a reason.”

”Curiosity is a reason.” She let him guide her through another crossing, then glanced toward the neighboring circuit. ”Lucavion’s name is Lorian.”

Reilan’s hand shifted against hers.

It was not enough to disturb their form, but Selphine felt the correction that followed, and the unnecessary precision with which he restored his grip told her more than the movement itself.

”How do you know?” he asked.

”Words are among my interests.”

”That does not answer the question.”

”It answers enough of it.” Selphine turned beneath his arm, watching the Salon pass behind him in a sweep of gold and dark formalwear. When she faced him again, she continued, ”Arcanian and Lorian names share older roots, but their conventions separated centuries ago. Lucavion appears in an archaic catalogue from the western Lorian frontier. Even there, the name was uncommon.”

Reilan looked toward Lucavion.

No—toward Elowyn.

The distinction lasted only a heartbeat, yet Selphine caught it.

”I asked him about it before,” she said. ”He avoided giving me a useful answer.”

”That sounds like Lucavion.”

”You say that confidently.”

Reilan’s mouth opened, then closed. A faint crease formed between his brows, and for once he looked less like someone refusing to answer than someone who had realized too late that he had answered already.

Selphine took a certain satisfaction from that.

Across the Floor, Elowyn shifted first. The cue began in her shoulder rather than their joined hands, subtle enough that Selphine would have missed it if she had not already been watching so closely. Lucavion responded before the movement fully developed, changing his footing to accommodate an angle that did not belong to the modern Court Variation.

The two of them were no longer merely dancing.

Elowyn was testing him.

Selphine lacked the technical knowledge to determine what she was asking, but Lucavion’s answers came through his body without hesitation. Each time Elowyn altered the pattern, he followed naturally; each time he changed it in return, she met him with increasing precision.

”Does that look Lorian to you?” Selphine asked.

Reilan’s attention returned to her so abruptly that his shoulder tightened beneath her hand. ”I wouldn’t know.”

The denial came too quickly.

”Wouldn’t you?”

”No.” He recovered their spacing a fraction later than usual and frowned, apparently more annoyed with himself than with her. ”Why would I know anything about Lorian court customs?”

”I didn’t say you would.” Selphine kept her voice mild. ”I asked whether the dance looked Lorian.”

Reilan stared at her.

She tilted her head. ”You supplied the rest yourself.”

For two measures, he said nothing. His composure had not vanished, but it had cracked enough for Selphine to glimpse the effort beneath it.

”How much do you know about Lucavion?” she asked.

”Less than you seem to believe.”

”That is an unusually narrow answer.”

”Selphine.”

”Yes?”

”You’re turning the dance into an interrogation.”

She allowed him to guide her backward, her expression perfectly innocent. ”I thought we were having a conversation.”

”You began researching his name.”

”I research many things, you know? It is not just his name.”

”Does not matter. What matters is that, now you are watching his feet.”

”Why? At present, everyone is watching his feet.”

Reilan glanced aside, perhaps hoping the Salon would disprove her.

It did not.

Several couples had already completed their Measure, leaving the outer edge of the Floor crowded with students who had found Lucavion and Elowyn more interesting than their own results. Toven stood among them with Mireilla and Caeden, his bewilderment visible even from a distance.

Selphine and Reilan completed their final turn before joining the growing group.

”What exactly is he doing?” Toven asked as they approached.

”If you are asking me,” Mireilla said, folding her arms, ”you have chosen poorly.”

”I studied more than he did.”

”That is an extremely low standard.”

Caeden ignored them both. His attention remained fixed upon Lucavion’s lower body rather than the turns drawing everyone else’s eyes. ”Watch how he enters before she completes each movement. He isn’t waiting for the force to settle.”

Toven narrowed his eyes. ”You make it sound as though he is fighting her.”

”He’s redirecting her momentum.”

”So he turned the dance into combat.”

”That is not what I said.”

”It was very close.”

Mireilla laughed, but Selphine continued watching.

Caeden had given her the language she lacked. Lucavion received Elowyn’s motion as though it were force entering a blade, yielding where resistance would waste momentum and changing direction before the original movement could finish. Yet Elowyn had begun anticipating him. Her posture shifted earlier now, offering false intentions and withdrawing them before he could answer.

They were challenging each other in a language most of the Salon could only admire from outside.

Beside Selphine, Reilan had fallen silent again.

His concern for Elowyn no longer appeared as cleanly controlled as it had at the beginning of the Measure. His jaw tightened whenever Lucavion drew her closer, and when Elowyn committed to another unexpectedly sharp turn, Reilan leaned forward before catching himself.

That protectiveness looked too practiced to have begun at the Academy.

Selphine wanted to ask about it. She also knew when another question would produce resistance rather than information.

She could wait.

The music entered its closing passage.

Lucavion drew Elowyn inward, one arm settling around her waist as he lowered his face beside hers. His lips moved near her ear.

The students around Selphine became suspiciously quiet.

Toven leaned forward. ”Can anyone hear them?”

”From here?” Mireilla asked.

”Can anyone read lips?”

”No,” Caeden said, catching Toven by the shoulder when he attempted to move closer. ”And you are not entering their circuit to improve the angle.”

Elowyn stiffened at whatever Lucavion said. She looked up at him sharply, while he answered with a smile that made the exchange appear even less innocent.

Then the final variation began.

—SWOOSH!

Elowyn moved outward and returned with enough speed to open her skirt into a dark circle around them. Lucavion altered the final figure, drawing her across his path rather than receiving her directly, but she followed without losing a step. For several beats, they seemed to forget the Salon, the examination, and every observer waiting to decide what their performance meant.

Lucavion pulled her close.

After so much movement, the sudden stillness caught the room more effectively than another flourish could have. Elowyn rested within his hold as the final note stretched through the Rotunda, and Lucavion spoke once more, too quietly for anyone beyond her to hear.

Something changed in her expression.

Surprise appeared first, followed by an emotion Selphine could not confidently name. It softened Elowyn without diminishing her, leaving her hazel eyes fixed upon Lucavion as though the answer she had received had created more questions than the dance had resolved.

Beside Selphine, Reilan exhaled through his nose.

Before she could decide whether to look at him, the bell rang.

DING—!

Gold flashed across every Role Seal, and the hovering plaques began to dim.

”The Second Measure is concluded,” one of the masked attendants announced.

A second bell followed, louder than the first.

DING—!

”The Floor examination is complete.”

Conversation broke across the Salon. Toven released a breath dramatic enough to suggest that he had completed several dances rather than watched half of one.

”Finally.”

Mireilla gave him a sidelong look. ”You spent most of the Measure staring at someone else.”

”That was exhausting too.”

Across the Floor, Lucavion released Elowyn, while the assigned identities and carefully performed alliances of the Rotunda began giving way to familiar faces.

Selphine looked at Reilan.

He was still watching them.

Her questions had not produced many answers, but they had shown her where those answers were buried.

For tonight, that was enough.