Dance of Shadows

"You want me to do 'what' with the shadows?" Elara stood in the center of the private practice hall, her practice gown – a simple grey silk that allowed for easy movement – swishing around her ankles as she turned to face Draven.

"Guide them," he repeated, amusement flickering through their bond as he observed her bewilderment. "The Midnight Ball isn't just a celebration – it's a demonstration of power. Each dance tells a story of our realm's history."

Elara watched the shadows writhing along the walls of the circular chamber, responding to her agitation. Since the blood ritual, they seemed to reach for her constantly, like eager pets seeking attention. "And naturally, you waited until a week before the ball to tell me this."