The Young Elites (The Young Elites #1)(26)
Author: Marie Lu

The other consorts-in-training exchange eye contact with me, but none of us speak. I choose a cushion at one end, then look on as more masked clients and consorts swirl in the room, until it fills to capacity.

Finally, servants extinguish several of the lanterns lining the walls. The room dims, and the conversation hushes. Other servants light the lanterns that circle the raised platform. I straighten, wondering what Raffaele will look like. After a few minutes, the court’s madam sweeps through the crowd and stops before the platform’s edge. She is tall and regal, still beautiful in her golden years, with lines of gray in her hair. She spreads her arms wide. I’ll have to ask Raffaele next time if she’s a patron to the Daggers. She must be.

“Welcome to the Fortunata Court, my guests,” she says. Her voice is rich and warm, and everyone in the audience leans forward, drawn in. “It is a cool, calm night, a lovely time for us to gather. And I know why you all have come.” She pauses to smile. “You want to see our court’s shining jewel perform.”

A round of low applause answers her.

“I won’t delay it any longer, then,” she continues. “Abandon yourselves to an evening of desire, my guests, and dream of us tonight.”

With that, the rest of the wall’s lanterns go out, leaving only the platform illuminated. Deep drumbeats echo, one after another. They send a tremor through me, stirring my alignment to passion, and I feel my energy churn. A young consort glides through the darkness of the crowd. When he reaches the platform and steps into the light of the lanterns, I stifle a gasp.

Raffaele is dressed in pale silks that make him stand out, his chest is bared, and a glittering gold line is painted down the middle of his torso. He stops in the center of the raised platform, eyes lowered, and then kneels in a fluid gesture, his arms folded before him, wide sleeves trailing. His robes pool in a circle around him. He stays there for a moment as the drumbeats thicken, and then he rises back to his feet and walks in a slow, hypnotic circle. I have never seen a composed, delicate dance like this, paired with a song that is nothing but drums—I may never see such a thing again. I glance at the clients filling the room. They are stunned into silence. Gradually, as the tempo increases, two other consorts join Raffaele on the platform, a girl and a boy, and together they glide in circles around one another, eyes both shy and piercing, movements flowing like water. The other two consorts are beautiful, but they pale next to Raffaele. There is no question whom the audience’s eyes follow. I watch, mesmerized. Then Raffaele’s moment of deep sadness comes back to me, and the performance chills me to the bone.

Someone new sits behind me. I don’t think much of it at first—the room is crowded with patrons, at any rate, all focused on the platform. It is only when the person speaks that my heart stops.

“I won’t hurt you, Adelina. Just listen.”

The voice is very close to my ear, close enough that I can feel the speaker’s breath, soft on my skin. He’s so quiet, I barely hear him over the drums. But I do. I’ve heard this voice only once in my entire life, but I would recognize it anywhere.

Teren.

The energy in my heart spikes, and I have a sudden urge to scream in the middle of the performance. He found me. From the corner of my eye, I can see that he’s not dressed in his Inquisitor armor and robes, but in black velvet, his face hidden behind a mask just like everyone else here. He is the man I saw earlier, the one whose gaze lingered on me. How did he find me? I’ve been too careless. Did he spot me wandering around the court? Did he recognize me from the balconies? Is he alone? Are there other Inquisitors in the crowd? My heart beats frantically. Are they waiting to strike?

“You have no reason to trust me, I know,” he murmurs as the performance continues. “But I did not track you down to arrest you. I’ve come to make a deal with you. This can work out strongly in your favor, if you want it.”

I stay quiet. My hands are trembling violently in my lap, and I clutch them together harder so that no one will notice. My gaze stays fixed straight ahead at Raffaele’s performance. Does anyone else notice him? Does Raffaele? Someone help me, I think, my eye darting around the room. If I make a commotion now, Teren will be revealed—but what will stop him from dragging me back to the Inquisition Tower, or killing me on the spot? The other Daggers aren’t here to protect me, and Raffaele can’t. I’m on my own.

“Tell me,” Teren whispers. “Have the Young Elites taken you under their wing?”

Drumbeats pound in my ears. I stay frozen, unable to answer his question.

“Seeing as how you’re alive and well, I’ll assume yes.” I don’t even have to see Teren’s face to know that he’s smiling. “Are you so sure about their intentions? Do you trust your rescuers so easily?”

If I weren’t terrified, I would laugh at his words. As if I had a reason to think the Inquisitors would be any more trustworthy.

“Speak, Adelina,” Teren warns me. “I would hate to make a scene and arrest you.”

My voice startles to life. I turn my head slightly, then whisper back in a tiny, choked voice drowned out by the drums. “What do you want?” I stammer.

The beat of the drums changes. Teren whispers to me through their thundering rhythm. “I know you are new to them. You probably don’t know everything about their inner workings. But I suspect you will, and soon.” He shifts closer as the drums grow steadily more frantic. “So here’s how we can help each other out.”

Why would I want to help you? I suck in my breath in a vain attempt to calm myself, and in the dark corners of the room I can see memories of my burning day, the way Teren’s pale eyes had pulsed at me.

“Observe everything,” he whispers in my ear. “Look, listen, and remember. I know where you are now. I will check in on you from time to time. And I expect you to share what you learn with me.”

My heart keeps time with the frenzied drumbeats. I can’t breathe.

“If you do, not only will I spare your life, but I will shower you with riches. I can grant you your every desire.” He smiles. “Just think of it. You can redeem yourself, change from an abomination in the gods’ eyes to a savior.” He pauses, and his voice deepens. On the platform stage, Raffaele pulls the young female consort to him. The two twirl. He spins away from her and does the same with the male consort. “If you don’t, not only will I destroy you, but I will destroy everything you care about.”