After leaving Theron, the two sticked together, not wanting to draw anymore unnecessary attention to themselves, since the night had already taken quite a turn and Nova grabbed a glass of wine to drank, while waiting.
He leaned back against a wall, as the music softened into a more graceful, mellow melody as Nova and Kiros returned to the main ballroom. Nobles swirled in slow dances, laughter rippled in layers across the marble floor, and the chandeliers glittered with soft golden light, masking the whispers of corruption beneath.
Nova scanned the crowd, narrowing in on the man Theron had described: tall, elegant, wearing a dark teal coat with golden embroidery, fiddling with his cuffs. Once. Twice. Then a third.
Bingo.
The man turned casually, approaching a servant passing with a tray of champagne. As he reached for a glass, he subtly slipped something beneath the silver platter's rim. Nova caught the gesture and moved quickly, intercepting the tray just as it passed by.
