Every gaze in the hall was fixed on the quintet, enchanted by their performance. As the final notes of the waltz drifted away, the heavy thud of horse hooves echoed from the entrance. Mateo Style, the groom, entered the hall riding a majestic white stallion. Eschewing the polo helmet he usually wore, his long, brown, untamed curls cascaded naturally, making him look remarkably handsome in his tailored white tuxedo.
As gasps of surprise rippled through the crowd, the music shifted seamlessly into Canon in D. The quintet was replaced by a string quartet of four women in elegant black silk. One of the newcomers gracefully relieved Fiona of her violin, allowing the bride to step to the very edge of the stage. There, she stood breathless, watching her Prince Charming ride toward her.
The horse seemed to dance to the melody, stopping perfectly in front of Fiona. Mateo dismounted with effortless grace, extending his hand to invite his bride to the floor. A stable boy quickly led the horse away, clearing space for the newlyweds to move to the center of the hall.
The lights dimmed, leaving a single, brilliant spotlight focused on the couple as the music swelled into a sweeping Strauss waltz. It was clearly the happiest moment of their lives; their delighted smiles were for each other alone. They danced with a lightheartedness that made them look like two birds soaring through paradise. Soon, a dozen other young couples joined them, creating a sea of swaying silk and flowers.
“Let’s relax for a moment,” James Style said, turning to Lady News. “Lady, may I have the honor of this dance?”
“Certainly.” Lady News smiled, and the two moved toward the floor, blending into the rhythm.
“If you two are looking to dance, head that way. You’ll find several single young ladies—the bride’s friends, I believe,” Report Man noted, pointing toward a group of girls chatting and drinking. He straightened his collar and bowtie. “As for me, I must pay my respects to Countess Murat and a few clients.” He disappeared into a circle of aristocrats surrounding an elderly woman in a resplendent purple gown.
“Time to meet the ladies,” Spion said, patting Trevor’s shoulder.
“Yeah.” Trevor smoothed his tuxedo. “We’d better hurry before they’re all taken.” Even as he spoke, several girls were already being led to the dance floor.
They approached the group with as much confidence as they could muster. Trevor noticed a few smiles directed their way, but before he could decide whom to ask, Spion whispered, “I think someone is already looking for you.”
Trevor followed Spion’s gaze. A girl in a midnight-blue gown was walking straight toward them.
“Trevor Edson? What a surprise to see you here.”
Trevor blinked. She had short black hair, piercing brown eyes, and an elegant, athletic figure. She was undeniably pretty, but he couldn’t place her.
“You don’t remember me? We were in the same Latin study group in high school.”
Trevor searched his memories of declensions and vocabulary lists. The eyes… the expression… it started to click. “Alisa? Alisa Fisher? I don’t believe it. You… you look incredible.”
“What, did you think the ugly duckling would never become a swan?” Alisa grinned. “I underwent a bit of a transformation in college. I realized that if you want a serious career, appearance is a tool you can’t ignore.”
In Trevor’s memory, Alisa had been a brilliant but unremarkable girl, her face often clouded by acne, hiding behind oversized, cheap clothes. She had survived high school on full scholarships, always maintaining better grades than Trevor.
“Are you here alone?” Trevor asked, trying to move past the awkwardness of his surprise.
“I came with a friend, but he’s vanished into the crowd somewhere.”
Spion, sensing he was a third wheel, gave Trevor a quick pat on the shoulder and wandered off to find his own partner.
Trevor stared at Alisa, hesitating to ask her to dance after she mentioned a “friend,” but Alisa spoke first. “Let’s grab a drink and catch up. To be honest, the waltz was never my thing.”
“Sure,” Trevor agreed. They moved to the bar and took a pair of stools.
“Gin and Tonic,” Trevor told Daniel, then turned to Alisa. “And for you?”
“Just juice. I’m driving.”
“So, how has it been? We haven’t seen each other since graduation,” Trevor said.
“Actually, we haven’t hung out since you started dating Regina,” Alisa winked.
Trevor felt a flush of embarrassment, but Alisa just laughed. “It’s okay. I was a total nerd in high school, I know. Now I work in Municipal Affairs. I can’t afford to be a dweeb anymore.”
“I was a bit of a geek in college myself,” Trevor admitted. “Now I find myself at these salon events quite often. Do you come here much?”
“First time. Fiona is a friend from college. How about you? Do you know the Styles?”
“I was invited by the groom’s uncle, James.” Trevor gave her a brief summary of how the “detective team” had formed and met Style.
“Wow, your life sounds like a thriller,” Alisa said, sipping her juice. “I’m mostly buried in paperwork. Even tonight, I’m technically on the clock.”
“Sounds like a lot of pressure. You should try to relax; you’re not a dweeb anymore, so don’t be a workaholic,” Trevor teased.
“It’s the Mayor and Senator Style,” Alisa lowered her voice. “They’re both desperate to please the sirens regarding a new trade deal. The Senator invited a Siren Prince tonight to show him what a human party looks like. Apparently, the Prince’s sister attended an event here once, so he was curious. Since I work for the Trade Department and I’m already here, I have to advise the Mayor on siren etiquette.”
“A trade deal with sirens?” Trevor raised an eyebrow. “What could humans and sirens possibly exchange?”
“I can’t say much, but… what’s your favorite food?”
“Seafood? Wait—are you serious?”
“That’s just the tip of the iceberg,” Alisa whispered, smiling. “But please, keep that between us.”
“My lips are sealed.” Trevor made a zipping motion over his mouth, making her laugh.
“What are you two plotting?” Spion reappeared, accompanied by a young girl in a striking red gown.
“No plotting here,” Trevor said.
“Hi, Bob,” Spion said to the bartender who was free right now. “A dry martini—shaken, not stirred.” He turned to the girl with a charming wink. “And what would you like?”
“Um… a Gin and Tonic?” the girl hesitated. “No, make it a Margarita. I want something strong.”
“She isn’t drinking anything with alcohol,” a woman in a deep red gown said sharply. Her eyes were like an eagle’s, fixed intensely on Spion.
“Mom…” the girl sighed, her face falling.
“We are leaving. Now. Come,” the woman ordered.
“Mom, please! It’s not even ten o’clock!”
“Madam, I promise to see her home safely,” Spion said, attempting a bow and his most courtly manner.
“She is underage. If you don’t want to spend the night in a cell, you’ll step away from her,” the woman snapped, clearly unimpressed by Spion’s theatrics.
The girl gave Spion a helpless, lingering look before her mother marched her away. Spion, realizing he had overstepped, simply muttered, “I think you should listen to your mother.”
“You’re such a bore!” the girl tossed her head and stomped off.
Trevor burst out laughing as soon as they were out of earshot. “Underage? You didn’t even ask her age?”
“Who asks for an ID at a wedding party?!” Spion grumbled, looking stung.
“I bet you didn’t even get her name,” Trevor teased.
“You’re lucky you didn’t,” Alisa interjected, her expression serious. “That woman is Lord Schwarzwald’s wife. I met her at a gala once. Even if her daughter is an adult, you’d want to stay far away from her. Lord Schwarzwald is not a man to be trifled with.”