Spirits of the Earth

OOC: This Thread has come from: Seeing Stars (http://www.spiritsoftheearth.net/smf/index.php?topic=23652.msg353386#msg353386). See the rules before joining! Thanks!

Thread location: The Ballroom


With the ceremony having come to an end, it was perhaps the noble blood still in him that drew Kentamin Dhelsbar to the ballroom. He should have went to the Veranda, he could have used a nice, stiff drink. But part of him still longed for times in his youth, when he was a teenager and loved dancing the hand in hand dances with all the pretty ladies.

And Connlaoth was known for it's beautiful nobility, though it was the one shameful thing about swearing himself off to the church, the templar couldn't marry- though the secret buried within, was that he had already broken one vow to the church- and celibate he had not remained.

But that sin aside, this was nothing of the sort. How could Ansgar blame him to desire a dance, and with a girl, any girl to help him forget this treacherous war in which he was stuck. had he truly known what he would have gotten himself into, perhaps he would have reconsidered his vows. But he was stubborn if anything, and as his cool blue eyes scanned the crowd, he waited to see what fair ladies he might see.

Toma felt like he slipped back into the past, well a far more luxurious version of it. He'd far rather be with his fellow Mordecai, but with the fall of Ahjfeld Toma had to find a way back to make sure Petrin was okay, so that meant schmoozing with the nobles instead of spending time with his siblings in arms.

The Mordecai scanned the crowd for any notable nobles, but as he waded through the ballroom, Toma bumped into someone. Dazed, he didn't get the chance to see who it was.

Elenoir d'al Astarot swept about the ballroom in a flash of dazzling iridescent peach, silken fabric. Always one to impress and awe with her finery, the young woman had adorned herself in quite the gown- her chocolate ringlets swept freely about the young woman as she beamed and danced. Men, women, all who dared to invite her to dance would be met with a jovial and skilled partner. One whom lavished them with all the affection of a lover - only for it to be torn away when another grasped her attentions.

Oh, what a lovely little creature, currently rapt with an older gentleman with grey hair and a thick beard- spinning away from him gently- skirts rippling like the setting sun reflected off of water and dazzling smile nigh blinding. Ah, if only she could sing, then this would be a perfect evening.

[ooc: sorry for the length! the rest will be shorter!]

Tonight was a night dazzled by stars, and clothed like the heavens themselves, Margaery knew that she glittered as brilliantly as any of them.

The inauguration ceremony had seemed to last forever, at least to the eager young woman standing near the rear of the room. Her diminutive height had been little help when it came to viewing the stately procession of guards and the newest Grand Master of the Mordecai, though the richness of the decoration and fabrics around her had been suitable compensation. And anyways, everyone had been able to see the investiture, raised on a platform as it had been. Even excited by the grandness of everything, she had been more than thrilled when the ceremony drew to its close, leaving the guests to their own pursuits. It had been surprisingly easy to slip free of her mother's claw-like grasp on her arm, as well - all she'd had to do was point out a supposed friend of her mother's, and then she was free, cutting through the crowd toward the ballroom. Though her knowledge of court dances may have been a touch outdated, that seemed the best place for flirtation and fun alike.

She hovered in the entrance to the ballroom, momentarily awed anew by her surroundings and the fashionable nobles that filled them. Not that she was clothed like a mountain peasant, at all; the gown of blue velvet fit her so closely that, despite her lack of busty figure, what curves she had were visible. A deep slit up one leg revealed an expanse of pale white leg, mirrored above the neckline that offered her shoulders and lower back to view. Her mother had nearly had an apoplexy over the design of the dress, and they'd had a frightful row for days, but in the end, she'd won. After all, despite the fact that the dark navy suited her better than any other, she'd known many others would be wearing the same color. If she wanted to attract attention, she'd have to do it somehow.

As she hovered in the doorway, gaze picking through those already gathered, her eyes landed quite suddenly on the young blonde man from the funeral she'd been to a short time ago, where she'd met her cousin Ethalind. He'd never actually given his name - 'Poor manners, more's the pity,' - but she thought that he might remember her. Lifting her chin and taking a deep breath - she would never admit it, but she was slightly nervous - she stepped from the shelter of the doorway, intending to corner the youth. Really, it was a pity that he was enmeshed in the Church-

All thoughts flew out of her head as someone both very large and very solid smashed into her. Perched upon her high heels, Margaery tottered, one arm flying out to snatch at anything solid enough to steady her. Her fingers snagged in the lapels of the tall - well, taller than her, which admittedly wasn't necessarily saying much - man's coat, and she tightened her grasp, overcompensating so that she half-fell against his chest.

Once she had steadied herself and pulled partially away from the gentleman, she peeped up at the face above. Her own was flushed crimson with both mortification and something like irritation, and she stammered slightly, torn between the urge to apologize, and the overwhelming urge to give him a piece of her mind for not looking where he'd been going. In the end, she settled for a sharp huff of breath. "I'm sorry," she apologized, her voice somehow maintaining its cool even as her face was stained red. "You seem to have me at a disadvantage, sir." Well, at least tonight would be memorable.

[ooc: talking to toma, if you weren't sure @Jounin

dress ref (http://g04.a.alicdn.com/kf/HTB1rpArJXXXXXXaXVXXq6xXFXXXG/New-font-b-Navy-b-font-font-b-Blue-b-font-Velvet-font-b-Prom-b.jpg) for self]

The ballroom was much more promising than the ceremony itself, and Yvaine had managed to disentangle herself from her family long enough to actually get out onto the floor, albeit staying close to the edges of the crowd and mingling socially more than she was actually dancing.

She kept glancing toward the entrance, feeling as though she were...waiting for someone. Which was not only odd for her, but flatly inaccurate.

Strange.

Lily took one step into the room and realized she'd probably made a mistake. She should have headed to the gardens when the ceremony was over, or even the tower- there was supposed to be something happening up there, yes?- but no. No, she'd come to the ballroom.

Which was fine. She took a breath and straightened her shoulders, lifting her chin slightly as she looked around. She was no stranger to balls, just...normally they were smaller.

But she could do this. This was fine.

She stepped a little further into the room, hiding a few nervous shakes of her hands by subtly twining her fingers in her teal and ivory skirts.

It had taken about four kerchiefs to wipe all the sweat off his brow. His military uniform was stifling and he partially wished this event could have taken place in winter. Even this autumn night, though chilly, wasn't enough to cool him down within his stiff layers of attire beneath the light, ornate armor he wore for Alanna's inauguration. But Mehtwald was a General, and one being appointed to such the honor to have announced her, he had to go in full uniform. And even this more ornate gear was heavy.

Though as he paused a moment to finish mopping up the sweat from his face, he noted, with a little crooked smirk, he at least looked really dashing- even if his hair was still half plastered with sweat.

"You're at least a good catch for the night, Mehtwald," he told himself with a toothy laugh. "Maybe tonight you'll finally find a sweet thing and get married."

Yes, he was talking to himself. He did it more often than not. It helped him to clear his mind, at least a little. But then something caught his attention in the hallway mirror, some lady fair out on the dance floor. It made his heart skip a beat, and tighten sickly as he whirled around. But the woman was no where to be seen.

Was he seeing things? No.. it couldn't have been her...
She couldn't have been here of all nights..
Not his lady from the letters...




-----

Elsewhere, Kentamin was already on the scene and feeling a bit soured he was being over looked. He didn't see anyone he really recognized, but he still wished to dance. And he knew he'd only have a few hours to do this in- as the ball wasn't meant to last through the dawn, or at least he surely would not!

So impatiently, he turned to look, finding the closest, prettiest girl without a man latched on her arm or even nearby her. And that poor woman was Lily. She approached her quietly and cleared his throat.

"It would do neither of us any good to remain as wall flowers." He placed out a gloved hand, shoulders straight- a man dressed well, something like that of a soldier, of the church, but also he had the air of nobility.
"Would you care to have this dance?"

Lily started slightly as she turned to face the speaker, eyes a fraction wider than normal. She blinked, then realized he'd asked her to dance.

Right then.

"Ah- yes. Of course." She tried for a smile and took his hand delicately. "May I ask your name, sir?" she murmured politely, glancing up at him through her lashes as demurely as she could manage.

He took her hand and gave a stiff nod.
"My name is Lord Kentamin Dhelsbar, templar from the order of St. Agratha." He bowed, taking her hand and kissing it politely. He then raised his eyes to hers. "And your name, my lady?"

"Lily, Lily Hartnet." She smiled a bit, trying to ignore the flush of heat that rose to her cheeks. While she was no stranger to balls, she wasn't actually often asked to dance. "It's a pleasure, my lord."

She dipped into a half curtsy, her hand still resting lightly in his, and lowered her gaze slightly.

It was a noble woman, of course, hopefully no one saw this. This display of clumsiness could cost him in the political game. Oh how he hated the political game, if it were more like chess he'd probably be Grand Duke by now.

He drew his attention back to the woman, who was now holding onto him. "There's no need to apologize, I should have been more careful." He quickly scanned the crowd for prying eyes. "You have been lingering, we shouldn't seem too suspicious, shall we dance?"

Toma had to admit, the woman was quite attractive, and if she's here, that means she has some sort of high status. The more noble allies, the better, and if she ended up being anti crown, then kudos to her for getting this far. All in all, Toma  spending time with this woman shouldn't have an ill effect.

Thank God he hadn't made any sort of stramash about their collision; with the man's own cool-headedness, she was able to regain her own self-possession. She was mildly annoyed that she'd fallen about like one of the swooning ladies in her mother's romances, but that could hardly be helped, with the unfamiliar height of the heels she'd worn. She had gone about in them for nearly two weeks before the ball to make sure that she didn't totter about like a newborn calf, but she hadn't exactly practiced being tackled, either.

"I'm sorry for lingering," she replied tartly, hand moving to take his own as he offered to lead her into the dance. She knew she shouldn't have been so prickly, but this wasn't the grand entrance into high court life she'd been expecting, either. She hoped he was good at dancing; while of course she knew all of the regular dances, and more than anyone's share of the country jigs, the isolation of the mountains kept her father's household from learning the most fashionable new steps. "And since you asked," she added primly, though a bright twinkle had come into her eyes, since he quite obviously hadn't, "I'm Margaery Grey, of Barony Groby in Highheart." She wouldn't be surprised if he didn't know the place; not many who weren't from there did.

Kentamin gave a stiff nod and moved to guide her out onto the floor to dance. Once there, he gave another bow, as was customary, before guiding her hands into his, one to his shoulder, the other resting against his palm before stepping once and pushing out, feet recalling the dance steps as if he had just been to another ball yesterday.

Once she was on the floor, her feet remembered the steps of the dance while the best of her brain tried to catch up. Lily slid out and twirled back, turning gracefully on the balls of her feet to match Kentamin's steps.

"You said you were a templar?" she queried quietly after a moment. Dancing an entire song in silence would just be too awkward, it was worth pushing through her shyness.

"Indeed," he confirmed when she came back from a twirl. "I've joined the ranks of the Order of St. Agratha only a few short years ago. I'm afraid I'm still and may always be in training. But my duty shall always remain with the church. I felt compelled and knew it was my calling. What with all of the rampant killer mages we all face."

He bowed to her and guided her into a side step joined sweep.

"Have you heard of the order, my lady?"

Lily bent easily to his movements. She may have been a bit of a wallflower, but she did actually dance well, a rather pliable nature lending itself to an easy partner.

"More in passing than anything else," she admitted. "I'm afraid I don't know very many specifics." she lifted her eyebrows in a silent question as she glided under his arm, spun out, then came back to him fluidly.

"Well, I won't overwhelm you with too many specifics, my lady, but the order is very prestigious and not so easy to come by. I was fortunate enough to be allowed in and train at such a young age. I believe they say enough potential in me to allow it." And it didn't hurt who his father had connections to...

He continued to dance, enjoying each step, but he was not certain he fully enjoyed the conversation. Sure, he was proud of what he was, but in truth, he was a bit tired of it. If anything, he was more curious to learn of boring gossip- taking him back to those simpler times just a few years ago.

"But what of you, my lady? Are you from the capital? Or just for the ball?"

 "Well, yes, actually. We've been here for about a month," she replied." We have a small estate her in the capital, but in recent years my family has spent more time at our old family home, a few miles from Uthlyn. It's better for-" She stopped herself abruptly and cleared her throat, glancing away.

Honestly, she missed their country estate. She knew why it was important that they make an appearance at the ball, but her family had spent so much time worrying for her health in the city that they'd almost permanently moved from Reajh. She'd nearly forgotten what the place was like.

But of course she didn't say that- she didn't want to advertise the idea that she was some delicate, fainting flower.

"Better for..?" Kentamin couldn't help repeating. "Better for what? Dancing?" He chuckled at that. And it was strange. When was the last time he had actually laughed? It wasn't even that real of a laugh, but a ruse of a laugh he always kept while in the company of other nobles. Apparently, old habits never died.

Lily pouted a bit and glanced away, ignoring how childish she may seem. "My health," she sighed after a moment. "My parents are convinced the city air was...affecting me poorly."

After what seemed like ages, Ethalind finally made her way to the ballroom. She had been making nice with high society for a good half hour, and she decided it was time for her to have a little fun. She hadn't felt this dolled up in ages and her confidence showed in the way she walked. With each quiet sweep of her blue and cream-colored skirt (https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/30/f4/69/30f46907290033489b44169ed0ee677e.jpg), she summoned adoration.

Her eyes made their way around the room. She recognized a few people here and there, but all seemed too busy to pay her any attention. She waited by the walls patiently, enjoying the grand dance as she waited on her turn.

"I'm sorry to hear that, my lady. In times of war, it seems good health is often presumed of those not in battle." He bowed his head out of respect, and caught something interesting from the corner of his eye. It appeared Ethalind Shanley had come into the ball room. He'd have to pay his respects to her. It hadn't been that long ago her brother had died, after all.

But then something else caught his attention that had him stepping on poor Lily's feet, in which he apologized profusely and tried to step back into tune with the music.
"I.. I'm sorry. I just.. I saw an old friend and wasn't paying attention to where my feet had fell. I hope I have not disgraced you with my failed step."

In truth, Kentamin knew Ethalind would be there, but hadn't considered her cousin, Margery, would be in attendance as well and..
For some reason, he grew a bit jealous to see her dancing with another young man. He only vaguely knew about the man on her arm- Toma Stark. A northern man. But a mordecai, so obviously one with the crown. He tried not to stare at the dancing pair and returned his focus to Lily.

"You do dance lovely," he assured her, returning back to the rhythm and grace of the music.

A small squeak left her before she could stop it and Lily winced, then tried to wave his apology off. "Oh no, it's fine, really."

She was blushing heavily, eyes downcast. He'd stepped on her because he was watching someone else, she could see that much. She knew she shouldn't let that bother her, but...well. No one liked to feel invisible.

She easily forced a smile at his compliment though, shaking her head demurely. "Grace is the reflection of a good partner," she murmured, nodding to him.

He couldn't help but laugh at that. Was it a true laugh? It certainly felt like it. It was strange.

"Then you are the most graceful woman here," Kentamin admitted, continuing to move with her, nice, pretty and light. There was a blush to his cheeks as well, as he had seen her's and well, he hadn't meant to become an awful partner, especially on the dance floor.

"At least a far better dancer than obviously I."

"Oh, don't say that." A truer smile quirked at her lips and she managed to meet his eyes for a few moments. "You're a lovely dancer."

Lily glanced to the side, blush deepening slightly. "Do you...have someone else you'd like to share a dance with here? I-I'm flattered you asked me, but I wouldn't want to keep you..."

"I do." It wouldn't do him any good to lie to the poor girl. There were two other ladies, in fact. Both out of propriety- and he couldn't help but be appealed at the idea to dance with either of them- not to say he wasn't enjoying the lady already on his arms.
He took a moment to indulge in her looks. She was a pretty little thing. He could grow attached to a sweet thing like her.

But did it matter? No, Kentamin couldn't marry, lest he prove himself a shame to the church. But what was the harm in some flirting? Even kissing...
As long as he didn't break his vow of chastity again, he felt this type of playful behavior would be acceptable. Or was he just that lonely to want to believe it was okay? He knew the consequences of his choices....

Perhaps he should have been wiser. Had he not chosen the path of God, any one of these lovely ladies could have been Lady Kentamin Dhelsbar. And part of him was starting to regret he couldn't play the courtship game.



But another man joined the ballroom from the veranda (http://www.spiritsoftheearth.net/smf/index.php?topic=23656.msg354844#msg354844) with far less favor of having a dance. But he knew he had to go through this room to get to the Stargazer's tower, which seemed to be at least a better reprieve than his little balcony in which he started to get a little drunk. Perhaps it was because he was drunk that he didn't care he was stepping into this room so boldly, and with no intentions of which to dance.

But unfortunately for Duke Leif Arrant,  there were too many pretty girls in his way in which he had to pass, and too many eyes looking at him.

"Oh, of course." Another polite smile and Lily ducked her eyes again. "Well, far be it from me to keep you from your lady-fair," she said in a half-teasing but still somehow politely deferential tone. "Though I do thank you kindly for the dance," she murmured as the music seemed to be coming to a close on the first dance.

Ethalind brought her attention to the Duke, but said nothing. She could tell that he was drunk, and a made a note to herself to avoid him. A man so intoxicated would not make a good dance partner, nor would his conversation be of any interest to her.

She began to grow impatient waiting for someone to approach her. "Where have all the good men gone?" she thought to herself, pursing her lips as her mind drifted elsewhere. "Perhaps the war has taken them. But Mother said this one would be quite large... Perhaps Mother was wrong. Fancy that. I could've been home doing...something. Something better than this for sure."

"Do I even deserve this? There are thousands of people struggling to survive outside these gates, and yet here I am, waiting. I suppose that's what I've been doing all my life. Waiting for a husband. Waiting for the war to end. Waiting for Arthur to come home... By Ansgar, I do hate being alone."

"No need for apologies, it was my fault for not being more careful." He lead her to the dance floor as gently as possible, to make up for their collision. If she had any doubts of his ballroom dancing, she shouldn't worry. As the legal heir to a duchy, these kind of formalities were driven so far into his memory that he couldn't forget them even if he tried.

As they began to dance, Margery took the liberty of introducing herself, causing Toma to blush slightly. Maybe not all formalities stuck. "I am Toma Stark, heir to the duchy Ajhfeld." His words lingered for a moment. "Well, I'm not so sure I'm heir anymore."

ANd it was as it was, the dance had come to an end and Kentamin gave the lady fair a respected bow.
"Perhaps we shall share another dance later," And he moved to take her hand and gave the top of it a light kiss. But even from here, he could sense the unpleasant mood of another. And as he turned away from Lily to move towards the wall, he found his eyes falling upon Ethalind. He smiled and waved to her.

"My lady." He bowed. "I hope you have been well. How long has it been since the funeral? Too long it feels." Although it wasn't even a month ago. Had it been any longer, and Kentamin would have found himself back under the employ of the church.

Another song had started, and it reminded him of just where they were.
"Ah, another song has begun. Would the lady care to join me in this dance?" he asked of her, body bent down in a bow, hand extended out to her.

Ethalind's train of thought was broken by Kentamin's approach. She greeted him similarly, waving to him gently from her seat. She'd later stand, accepting his offer with grace. "I would quite like that, Sir Kentamin."

As the two joined hands, Ethalind would smile delicately, waiting for the music to pick up before inquiring him of his leave. "I assume your break is going well?"

Taking her hand, he moved her out onto the dance floor. This song was lighter, and he found himself needing to step much more lively to keep in tune. At least it seemed his dance partner was born for her part, and he smiled down at Ethalind as she questioned his vacation.

"It's going well, thank you. I'm just elated I've gotten the chance to dance again and you, my lady Ethalind, do dance exceptionally."

"Oh, you do make me blush, sir." Ethalind's cheeks were indeed quite pink. "I could say the same of you. Pity you're tied to the church. I bet you can't go to many balls that way." Ethalind feigned disappointment, her eyes still smiling as she twirled to the sweet careening of the music.

The steps of the dance took the pair whirling into the ballroom floor, and Margaery felt a sharp pang of longing for the vivid steps of a country jig. She might be lucky enough to persuade the performers to play one, but would anyone here even know all of the steps? Most of the more common ones were surely known...

She snapped back to attention in time to catch her partner's own introduction, and felt a brief flutter of excitement in her belly. If her mother was annoyed by the fact that she'd snuck off, she'd surely forgot her irritation when she knew that her daughter had been dancing with a duke. Well, almost a duke. She offered him a brief smile. "I'm sure that the only thing that could disinherit you would be if you were a woman." As they turned in time with the music, she caught a glimpse of Kentamin, handsclasped with her cousin Ethalind, and felt a vivid jolt of irritation. She determined to claim him for the next round, and then they'd see who he preferred to dance with!

"That is the unfortunate truth, my lady. Especially now with the war, but I don't wish to frighten you with the details." War was never a pretty thing, and in this moment right now, it was what he desired most. To dance, and laugh and forget his obligations. To have, at least a small taste, of the life he decided to cast away.

Yes, part of him hated himself for it, but what could he do now? He was only a few years into this- and what... Was he actually thinking of abandoning the order? No. But the man could dream.

"I suppose had I the chance, we'd be frequenting the dance floor, Lady Ethalind."

"If only that were the case," Ethalind noted with a hint of sadness. "Though I appreciate the sentiment, of course." The woman glanced up at Kentamin, her tender brown eyes twinkling in the immense candlelight. "Perhaps, on your next leave, we should meet again? Even now, there's bound to be a ball happening somewhere," she'd jest, her eyes darting demonstratively around the room.

He couldn't help his smile as Kentamin continued to grace the dance floor with all the right steps, and the pretty lady in hand.
"Perhaps if there is another such ball, aside from the one we are already in attendance," he began, jestfully, "and you and I are both there, I shall ask you for not just one dance but I'll request two of you, Lady Ethalind."

Margery mentally drifted not long after they started their dance. Toma took note that she had that same look that he bears so often. That looked of pained nostalgia.

Toma gave the beautiful noble woman a chuckle in response. Not a genuine one though, the ones nobles are always trained to give. Albeit, not even someone as intensely trained as he could cover the sullen undertone in it. "I mean the crown overthrowing the current dynasty would disinherit me, but I'm not stupid enough to defy the crown." 

As the dance continued Margery seemed distracted once more. "Is something the matter milady?"

Margaery tore her thoughts from their current track, a slow flush flooding along the stalk of her neck and the curve of her cheeks. "Everything is quite alright. I just, ah.." She hesitated briefly, teeth nipping at her lower lip. She couldn't be honest - no man wanted to be told that the woman in his arms was thinking of someone else - at least, not entirely. And it wasn't like she was being unfaithful, for Ansgar's sake, she thought with a mental shake.

"I was just missing the dances we used to have back at my estate. In the mountains. I live in one of the passes between Connlaoth and Serendipity, but my father has farmland down in the foothills, and there's always a festival when we bring the reaping in." She had decided on part of the truth; so much easier to deal with. As they twisted in the middle of the dance, she shot another furtive glance at Kentamin and Ethalind, feeling a snooty snake of irritation curl into her belly. 'What a flirt.' She could hardly believe the nerve of the girl...

"What a bold proposition! though, I wouldn't want to keep you all to myself. The other ladies might get a little jealous." Ethalind would clear her throat, tilting her head towards Margaery. "She is my cousin. I can hardly allow you to ignore her."

Toma gave his dancing partner a concerned look. The hesitation after her reassurance was...well not reassuring. Something was amiss with her, but it was no right for him to pry. He knew nothing of this woman, and even logic dictated to stay out of it, he couldn't help but want to aid her in whatever ails her. It seems the spell of beauty is the most dangerous, for not even I can negate it. He mentally mused to himself.

Toma's face relaxed, so that was the nostalgia she was experiencing. "Ah, I am from the mountains as well, just the opposite side of Connlaoth." Toma chuckled as his own comment. "You know, I could request the musicians to play something more to your liking."

As they danced it seemed Kentamin and Ethalind were in close enough range to see Toma and Margaery well. Though they couldn't hear one or the other's conversation, Kentamin couldn't help but attach onto Ethalind's cousin visually. He knew it wouldn't do well to breed any sort of jealousy, but there it was. And who was he to even consider a lady, even for a dance or two, as his own?

"Yes, I suppose it would only be polite to ask her to dance at some point, as well," and he nodded, refocusing his attention on Ethalind.

Margaery no longer allowed herself to be distracted by anyone else, chiding herself silently for her poor manners. She was at a fabulous ball, she was dancing with the heir to a duchy, and best of all, her mother hadn't found her yet. The night could get better, she was sure, but wasn't quite sure how it could do so.

The young woman caught back onto their conversation from her own muddle of thoughts. At Toma's confession that he, too, came from mountains - though not her softer, admittedly more temperate peaks - her eyes widened slightly in surprise. A moment later, a smile curved the corner of her mouth. "Ah, but of course! Ahjfeld is all the way on the northern border. It must be much colder there most of the time." When he offered to redirect the musicians' performance, she glanced down, shaking her head slightly and feeling the faint warmth of a blush steal up her throat. It seemed so silly, that an offer for such a small thing should strike her.

"Oh, no, I'm sure I'll be fine." As she spoke, she could hear the strains of music winding down as the song ended and the musicians paused for snatched refreshment. Finding her own feet slowly until they stopped, she leaned slightly against the warmth of the hand on the small of her back, the better to peep up at Toma from her much shorter height. "I do thank you for the dance, sir, but I think I could use some air. If you may excuse me..?"

[ooc: boop sorry if I ended the song too soon?]

As the music died down, Ethalind offered Kentamin a grin, before shifting her feet quirkily to the last breaths of the song. She glanced over at Margaery, raising her eyebrows as she saw her drift away from Toma. "How awkward," she muttered to herself, shrugging as she looked back at Kentamin.

He followed her gaze as well, eyes falling upon her cousin before he looked back to Ethalind.
"Do you need to go to your cousin? I won't take offense if you wish to join her." He wasn't sure if her expression was one of worry or not. But he didn't want to seem to eager to go to her. After all, the night was still young- even though it was proposed this would be one of the shorter nights for a dance.

A song had ended as Duke Edward Draven lead his wife (http://www.spiritsoftheearth.net/smf/index.php?topic=23656.msg357704#msg357704) towards the dance floor. He was smiling warmly, keeping her close to his side as he gave a gentle rub to her arm.

"You look like you might fall asleep before the song even begins," he murmured, a part of him itching to steal a kiss but keeping back. It wouldn't do any good to be so openly intimate at such an engagement. His eyes went from her towards the orchestra.

"Hopefully they'll play something more lively."

Ethalind looked back at Kentamin oddly, before scoffing. "She'll be fine." She shook her head, staring sullenly at the orchestra, which at last began to play a sublime waltz laden with strange undertones of darkness. Ethalind swayed wordlessly to the music, resting her hand gently on Kentamin's shoulder as the ballroom spun relentlessly.

At the end of their dance, Kentamin excused himself. He was feeling a bit worn out from all of this dancing, not because he was out of shape- but it was actually making him mentally fatigued. He took a moment to step aside, watch the others dancing while gathering his wits again.

He wasn't even that old. He frowned at the thought, eyes studying the crowd before he noticed the young, supposedly sickly woman from earlier whom he had shared a dance with. He noticed she was still alone and took it upon himself to approach her.

"Taking a rest from dancing, too?" he asked, approaching her with a polite nod.

"Oh!" Once again, Lily started as the same man approached her. She cast him a quick, almost baffled look--she'd been sort of a pity dance, hadn't she? Why bother coming to speak to her again?--then she remembered herself and summoned a politely, courtly smile and a demure nod. "Ah, yes. I'm afraid I don't know this one as well."

She gestured airily to the steps of the skirts and boots whirling over the dance floor.

"And you?" She cocked her head at him slightly. "I'm sure you hardly suffer from a shortage of partners, and the night is still young, after all. Wouldn't you rather be...?" Again, she gestured vaguely in the direction of the dancing. 

That comment caught him off guard. It was a bit of a jab, and he wasn't sure if it was meant to aid his pride or harm it. Then again, by the way she was acting shyly, it was probably a jab at her own self.

"I have danced with many acquaintances this night," he agreed. "And though I've seen my fair share of military action, I must admit I'm a bit tired." He wasn't sure why he was honest with her. Maybe because she seemed to create an atmosphere between them that it didn't matter.

He eyed her up.
"I could use a drink. Would you like me to fetch you one as well?"

She blinked at him. "I..."

Her eyes flickered. She knew her mother would be starting to worry by now, but...none of her family had entered the ballroom yet. Not even her little sister, who'd been "dying for some real company and a chance at dancing".

A small, less courtly smile curved at her lips. "Yes. I would like that very much. Thank you, my lord."

He bowed and made haste to fetch them the Starlight Ball punch, which he was told was sweet but with a little bit of a tart buzz to take the edge off. It might take a few cups to get 'drunk', but the punch wasn't exactly served for that purpose...

Even if it seemed Duke Leif Arrant was glossy eyed in the corner from drink. But he had brought his own liquor and had enjoyed his fill of it, and the Duke watched as Kentamin fetched a pair of drinks and then returned to Lily's side.

Duke Arrant had never enjoyed these events. Never. And by the air radiating about him, most seemed to keep their distance from the brooding noble.

By the time Kentamin returned, the dance was changing and more mingling occured. He had to push through a few dispersing dancers before he returned to Lily's side.

"Apparently they call this the Starlight Ball punch." he offered her her cup. "They said it would be sweet." He wasn't sure he'd much care for it, but it was something, anyway.

Lily felt a sudden shiver up her back, almost a sense that she was being watched; "A goose walked over your grave," her governess would have said. Back when she still had a governess, of course.

She shook the feeling away and smiled at Kentamin as he returned, taking the offered cup gracefully. "Thank you." She took a slightly cautious sip, then smiled. "It is sweet." With a wry little chuckle, she added, "I'm afraid I don't have much of a head for alcohol, so something like this probably suits me perfectly."

Her eyes, which people at first always seemed to see as flat gray, had softened to something closer to shimmering silver. She reached up to brush an errant curl behind her ear, thanking her lucky stars that her hair had decided to be at least halfway manageable today.

"I know you said you're tired of dancing, but, ah...would you care to take a turn about the room with me?" She nodded to the people milling around the edges of the dance floor, then lowered her voice and added, "I feel somehow I draw more attention for being a wallflower than I do if I at least pretend to be social." The words had a distinct ring of truth, but the quirk to her lips and glint in her eyes was...playful.

---

"Hello."

A distinctly accented voice--Serenian, Rillaria if anyone wanted to get specific, though Connlaothians rarely seemed to care enough--cut easily through the murmur and chatter of the ballroom as a young woman dressed in a gown of icy blues and white approached a brooding Duke Arrant.

Everything about her was clearly Serenian: voice, dress, eyes, even the way she held herself was just a bit different from most of the other noblewomen she'd seen tonight. Good. Her family may be here for a union of houses, but she had no interest in letting Connlaoth think it could change her manner for its ridiculousness.

Still, Reina Bartok's smile was polite and perfectly respectful as she dipped her head to the man who seemed to be just...lurking in the corner. "Well met, sir. You're not interested in the festivities?"

She saw no reason to tiptoe around the point. Politics were exhausting, and these weren't her politics. Time to have some fun.

She had sweet eyes. Silver. It wasn't a common color he'd seen.

"I wouldn't mind much at all," he admitted. Did he offer her an arm? They weren't really close, but he also could not recall what society dictated. But they also were enjoying their drinks. He decided not to offer and merely gestured as he moved forward for their stroll.

"It's more of mental exhaustion," he admitted. "I'm young enough my legs don't ache this young into the night."


--------------

She had hardly snuck up on Duke Arrant, in fact, his eyes were plastered to her upon her approach. It didn't take much studying to know she was foreign, and where from. The smile made it obvious she had to be bored, and also, didn't know her place around him.

And unfortunately, she was blocking his exit- for he had contemplated leaving the ball good and early. No need to stick around for these festivities for longer than he'd like.

"Balls are a formality," his voice was cold, unwelcoming. "It's not my style."

Lily grimaced in sympathy as she began walking. "I think I know what you mean," she murmured, glancing around. "My, ah...delicate constitution, as my mother would say, means that I don't attend all that many social events."

She took another sip of her drink. "I'll admit I'm simply not used to being around this many people. It can be...surprisingly draining." Realizing how that might sound, she winced and hurried to add, "Not that I'm truly complaining, of course. I'm very much enjoying your company at least, my lord."

---

"Then I don't think you're doing them right," Reina quipped back, unbothered by the duke's icy tone or his very clear "get away from me" expression. She smiled again, and extended a hand. "It's rude to cling to the wall when there are so many young ladies without a dance partner. Even just one song will clear your societal obligation, yes? So I'm doing you a favor."

Her freckles almost seemed to shimmer in the light as she cocked her head, eyes glinting. "My name is Reina. Who do I have the pleasure of accosting, ser?"

"I understand what you mean. I must admit that is part of the reason for feeling so tired." He took a drink. It was a bit too sweet, he had to admit, but a second drink only confirmed it. "It has.. been a while since I've attended such affairs."

------

The ice never lifted. And he never once moved.
"Duke Leif Arrant of Castavar," he told her, boredly. Or perhaps, he was more annoyed. Or perhaps both.

She tilted her head at him, slipping a little bit closer to the wall as they walked to avoid a gaggle of younger noblewomen. "And why is that? Ah, if I may ask." She flushed a bit and took another sip of her drink in an effort to cover it.

---

Reina was good with ice.

"And where exactly is that? Castavar," she asked brightly, refusing to yield ground. "I imagine you could probably tell, but I'm not exactly a local, your grace."

"The war, primarily," he thought it was obvious. "The church... ah, well those with my talents are kept very busy to deal with the problems at hand."

---

Leif knew she was a foreigner.
But fuck.

Perhaps it was best to just entertain her until the night passed, anyway. Surely not many would approve of him 'wasting time' on a foreigner. Most Dukes tried to keep closest to their own kind.

"And since you are a foreigner, my explanation would hardly be of any help."

Really, what was her game? He took another swig of his drink before realizing he was dangerously close to empty.

Lily blanched, then flushed, and dropped her eyes. "I--of course. I'm sorry, I should've..."

Her family really had been so secluded, out in their country estate, that honestly the reality of the war still felt rather distant to her, despite how long it had been. She winced, feeling like an absolute heel and once again reminded of how sheltered she was.

"You're, um... You're a knight?" she asked softly, not sure if that would really steer the conversation in a better direction but figuring it was worth a try.

---

"Oh, well that's not necessarily true." Reina twisted to lean back against the wall beside him and tilted her head. "I may not be Connlaothian, but why shouldn't I be interested in the geography? It's looking more and more likely that I'll be inheriting my family's estates, and I'd like to learn as much about our northern neighbors as I can before I'm thrown full-force into the politics of everything."

The twist to her lips was wry, almost joking, but there was the barest hint of...of something like resigned frustration in her eyes.

"Templar," Kentamin correctly, bluntly. "We have very specific duties for our church." Need he remind? He was exhausted as such and came off irritable, though perhaps he was-
and perhaps he should have been wiser.
Then again, he was, if anything else, a snob. And despite what he had gone through so far in this god forsaken war...
You'd think he would have learned a thing or two on manners.

Perhaps it was because he was back in this rigid clothes meant for dress....

-though one would think Kentamin would be set to impress.
Yet he had no idea if he might be making this woman upset, and it seemed his eyes began to shift elsewhere- as his mind began to drift.

-----------------------

Leif listened to her words and gave an idle swish of his remaining liquid in his glass. He didn't bother to turn towards her when he said, "And is your inheritance in Castavar?"

“O-oh. Of course...”

Lily bit her lip and ducked her eyes again. Fool. Sheltered, shallow little fool. The overwhelming weight of just how far out of her depth she was suddenly came crashing down on her shoulders and she very abruptly found herself on the verge of tears.

God, this was ridiculous. She shouldn’t have come tonight—she couldn’t even carry on a basic conversation without nearly falling apart!

She tried to keep her voice cool and collected, but it still wobbled a bit when she murmured, “I fear I have overstepped in your hospitality, ser. I— if I’ve caused offense I assure it was unconsciously done. But perhaps I’d best leave you to enjoy the ball.”

She forced a smile and started to pull away from him, already wondering about her chances of sneaking out of the ballroom to find somewhere secluded to hide herself for the rest of the evening, and just how humiliating it would be if she was caught.

In a last desperate attempt to avoid seeming rude, she added quietly, “Thank you for your time, ser, and conversation. Truly. I hope you enjoy your evening.”

---

“Not unless you’re about to propose marriage,” Reina replied brightly. She sipped at her own glass, then set it aside with a shrug. “Honestly though, you’re a bit dour for my tastes. But I’m flattered.”

She smirked a moment longer, then sobered a bit and added, “I need not ask about your holdings if the topic is truly of such secrecy though. Perhaps you’d rather tell me your impressions of the ball, instead.”

It wasn't until the woman was nearly pulling out of his arms in mid dance did Kentamin realize what he had done. He flushed embarrassedly, and as gently as he could, pulled her back in to their dance.

"No.. I should be the one apologizing here," he said with a sigh. "I.. have been away to long with this war.. I.. I've forgotten my manners. Please forgive me," he went on, still dancing, stiffly now, as he bowed his head in apology.


----

"Impressions of the ball?"
Leif had to laugh. Perhaps he did. Or perhaps it was implied in the loudness of his silence, but the glowing irritation in his eyes.

"I don't think anyone would enjoy that." He took the last swig of his drink with a frown.

"It's about as fucking empty as my cup. If you'll excuse me..."
He didn't bother to spare a glance her way as he simply excused himself to fetch more.

Oh. Oh, well that was...kind of him. But she really didn't want to impose on him any longer than she already had...

"Ser Kentamin..."

Lily stared at him, opened her mouth, frowned, closed it, and looked away. Then she gave herself a little shake and moved her eyes back to his—and there was a hint of something in them this time, something bright and alive.

"If I were in your position, I would not want to spend my evening dancing and exchanging idle small talk." She tipped her head to the side and offered slowly, cautiously, "Would you accompany me to get a drink?"

---

"Well now, just because something isn't enjoyable doesn't necessarily mean it's not worth doing," Reina quipped back lightly. She moved with him easily, as though he'd offered to escort her rather than was obviously trying to escape her.

It was just too fun.

"Take balls in general, for instance," she went on flippantly. "They can be dreadful dull or full or political backstabbing or both—but they're still worth attending, if for no other reason that to acquaint oneself with one's enemies. Or potential allies. Don't you think?"

Leif's eyes were now fully upon Reina when they made it to where a servant was hefting along a tray of drinks. With a fresh drink in hand, he knocked back a fresh mouthful before turning to observe a templar approaching the servant for a drink before he sneered and walked away.

The room swayed a little.
Perhaps he was getting too drunk. He didn't want to pass out..
Or the hell with it- what did it matter if he did? What did he care about his reputation and all of the ridiculous high society gossip?

Another few steps had him walking into a second servant, to which he spilled his drink upon-
and also on himself.
He didn't really apologize, simply righted himself and fetched what was left of the filled glasses on his tray and stalked off elsewhere, none the wise if Reina decided to keep up with his drunken parade and he soon found himself outside on a veranda, where he was loosening his collar and sucking down more drink as he leaned against the railing... reeling from the alcohol and staring out into the backyard with listless eyes that were set into far deeper thoughts than he'd ever expose.

Reina was content to watch the erstwhile duke blunder about a hit, a small smirk playing at the edges of her lips all the while. She moved to the doors that led out onto the veranda but didn't cross the threshold, simply watching the ballroom and Duke Arrant in turn as though waiting for something.

Ah, her brother seemed to have made an appearance. With a girl on his arm. Interesting.

---

"Oh my." Lily blinked and covered her mother with a hand when the rather unpleasant gentleman who'd been seemingly enjoying the refreshments just before them stumbled away. She hesitated, glancing after him, then gave herself a little shake. "I do hope he's alright," she muttered, mostly to herself.

Kentamin glared daggers at the drunken duke and moved to lead the lady away from the rough atmosphere he had caused. Once they were in a little more intimate location, he sighed and gave a shake of his head.

"It's good to see the Duke of Castavar is still as drunk as ever."
Everyone knew about his reputation. He was an embarrassment, if anything, to his name.

"Are you alright?" he asked, only taking the moment now to see if the intoxicated buffoon had spilled anything upon her.

"Oh, yes, I'm fine," Lily hastened to assure him, not wanting to be any more of a nuisance than she was sure she already was to him. She tried for a smile and gestures to herself to show that she was in fact unscathed from the encounter. "I was just a bit startled, that's all."

Her eyes flickered after the Duke, but she couldn't find where he'd gone in the ballroom. With a mental shrug, she decided it wasn't worth worrying about and gave Kentamin a rueful sort of smile. "I'll admit to a lack of experience at these sort of functions, but he didn't seem quite...typical."

He sincerely looked her over to confirm that she was- okay, that was, and nodded when he felt he could be satisfied that she was.
And then he sighed, looking over towards where the Duke of Catsavar once was and gave a shake of his head.

"He's not, and you'd do well to avoid him in the future."

He turned his attention back to her and smiled a little, though it was forced. It was evident he was still flustered.

"Perhaps we should wait out until the next song and enjoy a drink or two. How do you fancy yours?" he asked, gesturing to her drink before attempting to drink some of his own.

"Oh, it's quite good!"

Not that she would know if it wasn't. Hoping her thoughts didn't show on her face, Lily offered up a small smile and took another tiny sip of her drink. It was rather good, actually—she almost never drank, her mother was convinced it might trigger one of her "fits". The logical of that sentiment perpetually eluded her.

"I'll admit I'm not all that well versed in wine, but I think I enjoy the sweetness," she offered up after a moment. Nodding toward his own glass, she asked, "And you? Even if balls are not your preferred method of entertainment, at least the refreshments are nice?"

"I never said I wasn't a fan of a ball," Kentamin replied. "On the contrary.. I find it a very lovely way to spend my time."

Too bad it had been ages...
And would be few and far between as the war continued.

"But yes, I've always said a good Connlaothian wine is always served among the nobles." And he nodded to her and gave drink to that.
"So you are not much of a wine connoisseur?" he asked, curious because it seemed many nobles would have been pretty well knowledgeable on the types of wines of their country, especially at her age.

"A-ah, of course, well..."

She flushed again, dropping her eyes as though the contents of her glass were suddenly absolutely fascinating. "I'm...not much of a drinker, really. My mother worries after my health..."

Her blush worsened and she sighed. Perfect. Just highlight how much of a shrinking flower you are. Well played.

Kentamin raises a single brow, and perhaps stared at her far longer than ought.
"And here I've heard how wine can cure all ales. Perhaps your mother hasn't served you the right cup?"

That infernal blush darkened yet another shade and she cleared her throat again before admitting, "I have...er, fainting spells. One of the few ails where wine may be a detriment rather than a benefit, I'm afraid."

She chuckled, a little forced, and glanced down for a moment. "But I'm fine! My parents just worry too much, that's all."

Anxious to change the subject, she cast her eyes around the room again in an effort to find something to comment on. She was drawing an unfortunate blank.

---

Leaving her brother and his hapless, unaware fiancé, Reina had gathered a drink of her own before meandering her way back through the crowded ballroom toward the veranda. She smiled and nodded and exchanged a few pleasantries—then breathed a deep sigh of relief as she stepped out into open air.

She'd actually forgotten about the erstwhile duke she'd been pestering earlier. Or at least she appeared to, finding a place by the railing to sip her wine and lean back into one hip, eyes closed as she turned her face out over the gardens.

Kentamin's expression actually changed. Was that concern on his face? Perhaps mixed a little with surprise. He shook his head at her disregard.

"Fainting isn't something to balk at," he began. "Perhaps I ought to entertain you with another refreshment?" The idea was sweet, but he hadn't thought far enough ahead on where he might obtain something without alcohol. It seemed to be all they really served at these events, ever since he could remember.


-----------

And if she were to notice, she wasn't too far from the drunken Duke. Then again, she was the closest to him- not that he was near any other, leaning in a corner himself, there in the darkness, where the lights of the torches could not reach. His back was to her, nearly empty glass in hand, threatening to fall from his fingers as he stared out into the vastness of the lawns and gardens- although his eyes were fixated on nothing or anything at all.

Lily blinked at him, then smiled. "That is a very kind offer," she said, eyes glinting from stormy gray to something like silver. "But please, don't put yourself out for my sake. I'm quite content to live vicariously." She nodded to the glass in his hand. "Is it good?"

She glanced around again as she asked, trying to think of something else that she could offer to perhaps make her company less boring. "Oh!" She looked back to him with a quick, crooked grin. "Would you perhaps have any interest in exploring the gardens?" It was actually the wine that had made her think of it—she may not enjoy a glass herself, but she could catch the slightly floral scent of it easily enough.

---

"You're going to drop that glass."

Reina hardly moved from her place, other than to twist her body slightly in his direction as she leaned her hip against the rail. "I mean, feel free if you like," she continued casually, "but I doubt your hosts would be very impressed to find glass shards on the lawn."

Leif's eyes were like green eyes, staring near listlessly out into the void. He didn't even turn to address her when she spoke, simply let the glass continue to precariously slip in his fingers until- eventually, it did fall out.

The tinkling smash of glass came a second later, but had anyone noticed, there was no evidence as the music from the ball continued to roll out from the open doors.

-------

Kentamin frowned. He honestly felt bad and wanted to at least try to help her but...
Then she was speaking of the gardens. He was frowning still but then peered over in the direction he knew they were.

"The gardens?"
Perhaps a walk would do some good.
"I could escort you there," he offered with a nod and an offered hand. "But allow me to find you that drink, first."

Reina tsked and rolled her eyes, tilting her head the other way as she continued to observe her silent companion.

"Did you hurt yourself?" Though her tone was wry, the question was sincere. He...certainly didn't look well.

---

Lily looked down at his offered hand for a moment as though she'd never seen anything like it. Then she pulled herself together and offered him another one of those sweet, tentative smiles.

"I...would like that very much, Ser. Thank you," she murmured as she took his hand.

Kentamin smiled and guided her towards the servants, taking the time to explain they desired a nonseasoned drink.. as it were. It didn't take much for them to oblige, disappearing for just a few moments while Kentamin talked about this and that and then they returned and the drink offered to the girl.

At this, Kentamin offered his full arm now to escort.
"Now I think it is more appropriate that we can enjoy the gardens with a drink in tow." For he, himself, had also taken one of the drinks without alcohol and began to lead the way.
(OOC: Their shenanigans continue here: http://www.spiritsoftheearth.net/smf/index.php?topic=23653.msg387046#msg387046


------------

If Leif Arrant was phased  by any of her questions, it didn't show. Instead, his eyes continued to stare off into the distance, past the trees, even past the shadows.

Maybe.. if he ignored her, the wretch would go away.

"Thank you very much," Lily enthused when he handed her the drink, taking a cautious sip and finding herself delighted by a delicate, fruity sweetness. She smiled at him again and carefully tucked her hand into the curve of his arm. "And I would be more than happy to tour the gardens."

---

Reina sighed, then took a quick look around. They were alone on the balcony, most of the ballroom clustered near the refreshments at the far side of the room now that there was a brief lull in the dancing.

She shot the drunk stranger she'd been bothering all night a wary, calculating sort of look. Then she seemed to make a decision and waved her hand out over the balcony rail where the glass had fallen.

The liquid rose first, a few droplets that became a small orb, before the glass itself rose and reassembled itself with a faint, tinkling sort of chime. And then Reina was holding the once-shattered glass of wine in one hand, her own drink in the other.

That was exhausting. Connlaoth and their mordecai; made even a simple spell feel like a drain. She knew she wouldn't have been able to perform the magic at all inside any one of their fields, but even just barely outside it she could feel the drag of them at the edges of her power.

Determinedly not showing the sudden dizziness on her face, she stepped into the duke's personal space and slid the repaired glass onto the balcony in front of him.

"Enjoy your evening, Your Grace," she murmured before she turned to go back into the ballroom.

He merely stared past the fixed glass for a long while, not even certain the woman was still there before he abandoned it carelessly on the side of the rail and disappeared elsewhere at the party.

Reina found herself gravitating toward the balcony again--after a brief, quiet row with her brother about just how much of an ass he had been to his unwitting betrothed and she decided she needed some air.

The recalcitrant duke was nowhere in sight, but neither was anyone else. She sighed gratefully and let herself lean against the rail, tucked out of sight from the rest of the party behind a combination of magnificent wall hangings blocking the window and a few impressive potted plants stretching toward the starlight.

"Woah.. who's that in the corner?"

"What- the man who just vomitted into the plant?"

"Yeah... Oh! It's.. him." the voices grew into harsher whispers now.

"Truly? That's Duke Arrant?"

"Yeah, sure as hell is. Ansgar's name- he's passed out..."

"Arrogant fool. He's making this job way too easy."

You could hear the other man rolling his eyes.

"Idiot. You forget how long it took us to even find the means to tail him to this event."

"Does it matter? He's right there. Which makes the fool good as dead."

"You got the vial?"

"Yeah. They'll think he just drank too much and drank himself to death." He whispered a laugh.

"Come on. Let's make sure the coast is clear and be quick about it. I'd hate to hang for this."

"Fuck that. If anyone deserves to die it's this asshole."

And the pair of men moved with a purpose towards the limp form of Leif Arrant.

Well...

Drat.

She couldn't very well pretend she hadn't heard that.

"I bloody hate politics," Reina muttered to herself as she quickly stepped out from her little alcove to cross to the clearly unconscious duke and work to get one arm under his, saying brightly--loudly, in case the voices she'd overheard were closing in--"Come on, Your Grace, let's get you to bed."

Curse me thrice for a fool.

The voices stopped the moment she entered the scene. And although the men nearby were somewhat concealed from their view, their presence hung with heavy tension. But the Duke did not stir.

Well, there really wasn’t much else she could do. She couldn’t just leave him there.

“You are going to owe me the biggest favor this side of the border,” Reina muttered—to herself, as the Duke was clearly not stirring—and began dragging him back along the balcony. She didn’t want to take him back through the ballroom, that would draw too much attention. The best she could figure in the moment was getting him down to a coach. She’d jus to have to…work things has out from there.