There was only one performance that Elia actually took off most of her clothes for – and still the customers saw only enough of her to tease at their imaginations. Her expert control over the shadows that she twisted and turned around her body ensured that the audience saw only what she wanted them to see – the outline of her body, hints of fair flesh, the bounce of dark curls and flash of dark eyes, but nothing more.
It was ironic and humorous that of all her performances and her wide variety of costumes, Kennet most certainly had seen all of this one: all shadow and skin.
When she left the stage, the witch was already creating a long, dark robe to wrap around her body, as substantial as silk, but pulled together from shadows and will. Perhaps if she'd had to stop to retrieve a real robe, she would never have seen the Ringmaster's familiar towering figure there. As it was, she lifted a brow, the corner of her lips curving in a wicked little smirk. "You know, the view is better from the front. The chairs are comfortable, Ringmaster, and the bartender is brilliant. We would have been happy to provide you with VIP service."
Her words were teasing, clearly, but she was pleased to see him there. Quietly, privately pleased, of course. She had promised.