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“Actually, general, no. I’ve checked all the last minute details you gave me. Everything and everyone is where they should be. I think we make a good team.”

He wasn’t wrong, Ela reflected. For someone who affected such a casual devil-may-care façade, he was surprisingly efficient at his job.

Inexplicably, that also annoyed her.

“The guards have been tripled around the Imperial Palace?” she pressed. “We can’t take any chances with the hard-core xenophobes out there, however small their number.”

“Ela, I know. You’ve drilled it into me every day for the past month.”

“And you’ve checked the guest list?”

“Everyone’s accounted for.”

“Lord Vantrax?”

“He and his family have stayed away. No big surprise. He’s made it abundantly clear he opposes a human Zhaalini.”

“And have you…”

“I’ve done everything. Twice. Like you asked me.”

“So why are you still following me?”

“To see if you’ll dance with me at the wedding.”

Ela stopped so suddenly that Rhyn was a few paces on before he realized.

“What? Why?” she narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Has someone put you up to this for a joke?”

“Vannla’s Sword, why in the name of Ayanlesh would it be a joke?”

“Because everything’s a joke to you.”

“That’s a little unfair,” he protested. “I thought we worked well together organizing President Cameron’s visit. And again with the wedding arrangements.”

“That doesn’t explain why you want to dance with me.”

“I like to live dangerously.”

“You see?” Ela shouldered past him and carried on. “A joke.”

“Ela, come on,” he said, walking after her. “Just one dance. It’ll be great. Me in my ceremonial robes, you in a dress…”

“I’m wearing this.”

“…you in your military uniform, it’ll be fun. And after all the effort you’ve put in, you deserve some fun.”

Ela gave him a sidelong glance, wondering why he was being so nice to her. Not that it wasn’t appreciated. The past few weeks had been difficult for her. Making arrangements for Vahn’s wedding had brought home the truth that he would never be hers. She was happy for him, of course, but desperately sorry for herself.

Maybe fun was what she needed.

“Won’t you have a date?” she asked a little brusquely. “There’s usually some deluded female draped around you.”

“Nope. Footloose and fancy free.” He spread his arms and serpetri wide, trying to affect a picture of innocence. “It’s a tragedy. No-one to dance with, unless you take pity on me oh wise and brave warrior.”

She snorted.

“You’re an idiot. Now go away, you can’t see the bride before the wedding.”