Shadows in the Hall

As I walked out, the ballroom sound chased me. Laughter, music, shattering glasses—it all sounded so distant the moment I entered the silent hall. I was still reeling from what the waiter had said. I put my hand to my chest and attempted to quell the feeling, but the words continued to reverberate.

You know not who you are.

I was furious that my hands were sweating. I told myself not to care, but I couldn’t shake it. I heard the tapping of my heels against the polished floor as I paced across the empty room, my attempted steady breaths cutting in and out.

"Running away already?"

I tensed up. That voice. Low, even, and way too close. I spun, and Thane was down the hall. He wasn't grinning. He wasn't frowning, either. Just looking at me the way he always looked at me — like I was a mystery he had to solve.

“I’m not running,” I replied, rapidly. My voice sounded harsher than I’d intended.

Thane sidled up, one step at a time, deliberate and slow. "Then what are you doing?"

I needed air," I told him. "That's all."

He stopped a few feet away. "Air, in here? You came to the darkest part of the house. Not very believable."

I crossed my arms. “Do I need to justify myself to you?”

"Yes." The answer was prompt. "You do."

I scowled at him. "Why? You're not—" I stopped. I couldn’t get the words out of my throat. You're not my anything.

He tilted his head. "Not what? Not your fiancé? Not your keeper?"

“You are not my anything,” I finally said. It made my chest tight saying it out loud.

Thane's eyes glinted. I wasn’t sure if he was angry or amused. "You like saying that. And now you’re pure in my way once more.”

“This isn’t what I wanted,” I said. “You’re the one who keeps popping up wherever I am.”

“Perhaps it’s not a coincidence,” he said.

My stomach turned but I looked away. I gazed at a painting on the wall — some old landscape I didn’t get. Anything to avoid his eyes.

He stepped in closer. Too close. "What did he say to you?"

I blinked. "What?"

“The man who addressed you,” Thane said. "I saw him lean in. What did he say?"

I sat still listening to the words. My throat dried up. "It was nothing."

Thane's eyes narrowed. "You're lying."

"I'm not," I said quickly. "He must have done something stupid. I didn't hear it properly. "

“You heard him,” Thane said sharply. “If it was nothing, you would’ve never come out here shaking.”

I clenched my fists. "Why do you even care?"

He didn't answer right away. His gorgeous, mysterious gaze never left mine. Then he said, "Because people don't approach you for no reason. Not here. Not tonight."

"Why? You're not—" I stopped. I couldn’t get the words out of my throat. You're not my anything.

He tilted his head. "Not what? Not your fiancé? Not your keeper?"

“You are not my anything,” I finally said. It made my chest tight saying it out loud.

Thane's eyes glinted. I wasn’t sure if he was angry or amused. "You like saying that. And now you’re pure in my way once more.”

“This isn’t what I wanted,” I said. “You’re the one who keeps popping up wherever I am.”

“Perhaps it’s not a coincidence,” he said.

My stomach turned but I looked away. I gazed at a painting on the wall — some old landscape I didn’t get. Anything to avoid his eyes.

He stepped in closer. Too close. "What did he say to you?"

I blinked. "What?"

“The man who addressed you,” Thane said. "I saw him lean in. What did he say?"

I sat still listening to the words. My throat dried up. "It was nothing."

Thane's eyes narrowed. "You're lying."

"I'm not," I said quickly. "He must have done something stupid. I didn't hear it properly. "

“You heard him,” Thane said sharply. “If it was nothing, you would’ve never come out here shaking.”

I clenched my fists. "Why do you even care?"

He didn't answer right away. His gorgeous, mysterious gaze never left mine. Then he said, I hated that stare—it made me feel small, even when I was standing tall.

I pushed past him this time, not waiting for his answer. My hand brushed against something on the floor. I picked it up. It was a torn piece of paper. The sides were rough, as if it had been torn in a hurry. There was a crest in the middle. A circle with strange symbols, sharp lines cutting through it.

"What is that?" Thane asked.

"I don't know," I answered honestly. "I just found it here."

"Let me see it."

I pulled it back. "No."

"Nadira."

"No," I repeated, my voice firmer. "It's mine."

He frowned, but he didn't try to take it from me. He just said, "You should be careful. Things like that aren't forgotten by accident."

I stuffed the paper into my clutch. "I don't need your warnings."

"Yes, you do," he said quietly. "Since you're walking blind."

"I'd rather walk blind than have you lead me," I replied.

Tension stood between us like a mist. My hands shook, but I did not let him see. I turned and walked away, keeping my steps even. I could feel his eyes on me as I left.

I halted when I reached the end of the hallway. I backed myself against the wall, my chest rising and falling. I pulled out the piece of paper again and looked at the crest. It did not belong to my family. I had never laid eyes on it before. Yet something about looking at it made my stomach twist.

I heard footsteps behind me. I quickly crumpled the paper into my bag and turned around. It was another guest, intoxicated and trying to locate the bathroom. He apologized to himself muttering and staggered away.

I stood for another minute, trying to pull myself together. Then I went back inside the ballroom. Lights were too bright again. People laughing, drinking, dancing as if there was nothing else in the world. But I couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted.

Aunt Celestine spotted me first. She raised her glass, smiling in her slashing way. Magnolia was standing beside her, saying something and then laughing too loudly. I ignored them and walked over to the drinks table.

"Miss Evahart," one of the older guests greeted me. A man my father spoke to often, he smiled warmly, though his breath smelled of wine. "You look pale. Are you quite well?"

"I'm fine," I lied.

He nodded, as if he did not think so but did not want to pry. "Your father is looking for you. You should sit with him soon. Appearances are everything tonight."

"I know," I said.

I took a glass of water, not wine, and stood in the corner, trying to look occupied. My gaze kept returning to Thane. He was now talking to someone else, a group of older men, but every so often his eyes returned to me. Always watching.

Magnolia as well. Her smile faltered every time his eyes left hers. She clutched his arm tighter, as though she was scared that I would take something from her. I looked away quickly. I did not want her to believe she had power.

I sipped my water slowly. It was tasteless, but it was something to do with my hands. The music swelled, and more couples came onto the dance floor. I stayed in my corner.

The words of the stranger returned to me again. You don't know who you really are.

And now the crest burned itself into my mind, a shape I couldn't shake.

The rest of the evening crawled by. The guests drank, laughed, and danced. Magnolia mingled, smiling at all of them. Aunt Celestine glided through the room, always gracious with that calm, enigmatic face. And Thane… never once did he turn away.

When the night eventually dispersed, I quietly excused myself. My father was busy speaking with donors, and Stacy remained at his side, acting the role of graciousness. Nobody noticed my departure.

But when I stepped outside into the chill air, I dug the piece of paper out of my bag again. The crest glared up at me. And for the first time, I felt a shiver that had nothing to do with cold.

I didn't know what it meant. But I knew it wasn't over.