"Excellent." Athena waited until he'd positioned his free hand on her shoulder, and then she led off.
Athena was a proficient dancer, if not an inspiring one. That was the domain of her sisters Nine, who danced with a magnetic grace and sensuality that sent ripples through a room that set men and women afire.
There was nothing sensuous about the way Athena moved through the steps of the waltz, more a light-footed precision that was technically flawless and yet curiously detached. To her, the ballroom floor was merely another, subtler field of battle, two bodies moving in apparent synchrony even as their wills circled one another, testing, prodding, gaining each other's measure.
It was not her favoured ground, but it served its purposes.
"Word is Adrianus Leventis has become something of a recluse," she observed, as though commenting on the weather. "Have you tired of the entertainment industry?"