“Are you ready?”
Standing before the palace, surrounded by arriving nobles, polished carriages, and bustling footmen, were Echo, Varian, Evelyne, and Lady Lockwood. Aurelian stood among them with what he hoped was a reasonably confident expression.
This was not his first ball, after all.
Surely that meant it would be easier than the last.
Echo regarded him with a somewhat worried expression. She had spent much of the past week attending to her own affairs, and although she trusted Lady Lockwood’s instruction, Aurelian knew her well enough by now to recognize the concern behind her eyes.
She was probably wondering whether he would somehow create another scandal before they even reached the ballroom.
“I can do this,” Aurelian reassured her. “Compared to the gentlemen’s club and being presented to the royal family, I believe a ball should be considerably easier.”
“That confidence is concerning,” Echo replied.
Varian laughed.
“Speaking of the palace,” Evelyne began, lifting her fan to conceal a mischievous smile, “I heard you encountered the duchess here the other day.”
Aurelian immediately knew he was not going to enjoy the direction of this conversation.
“I did.”
“I also heard,” Evelyne continued, “that she seemed rather eager to keep you in the capital.”
“That is not what we discussed.”
Warmth crept steadily up Aurelian’s neck.
Unfortunately, her words reminded him of something else Seraphina had said during their conversation.
Reserve a dance for me.
He had promised that he would.
“I was merely making certain that she was taking proper care of herself,” he explained, “and informing her that my family would soon be returning home.”
Echo stared at him.
“You were checking whether Duchess Vaelmont was taking care of herself?”
“Yes.”
“And you believe that makes this sound less intimate?”
Aurelian frowned. “Concern for another person’s health is hardly intimate.”
Varian looked away suspiciously.
Evelyne’s fan rose higher.
Lady Lockwood spared all four of them a long-suffering glance.
“If you are quite finished tormenting Baron Bellafonte, we have a ball to attend.”
That, at least, rescued him.
The Bellafontes had decided that they would leave Evelina three days after the ball.
Snyder had spent much of the past week completing his remaining discussions with nobles and merchants concerning Bellafonte imports, while Carina had occupied herself with afternoon parlors, farewell calls, and ensuring that every connection worth maintaining had been properly secured before their departure.
Aurelian had been equally busy.
He had returned to the Primrose estate to inform Lady Florence and Cecily that he would soon be leaving. Cecily had immediately made him promise to write to her, and Aurelian had assured her that he would.
Her cousins had demanded the same, although their motivations had been somewhat less innocent.
Isabelle and Katerina had enthusiastically promised to keep him informed of any interesting gossip they heard concerning Duchess Vaelmont.
Aurelian had told them this was entirely unnecessary.
They had ignored him.
They had also requested more poetry.
Lady Florence, meanwhile, had expressed genuine interest in the tea blend Aurelian had brought during his previous visit and intended to discuss the possibility of investing in it once he returned to Bellafonte.
His farewell visit with Marquise Beaumont had been considerably quieter.
To his surprise—and secret delight—she had invited him to take afternoon tea inside her greenhouse.
Aurelian had wanted to see the magnificent glass structure properly since the welcoming tea, and sitting among the warm-climate flowers and carefully tended plants with only the marquise for company had proven to be one of the loveliest afternoons of his season.
They spoke of books, tea, society, and his impressions of Evelina.
When Marquise Beaumont casually mentioned that she might visit Bellafonte once winter began, Aurelian had immediately assured her that his family would provide her with the finest accommodations they could offer.
She had also granted him permission to write to her.
Then she announced that she intended to send gifts south as thanks for joining her for tea.
Aurelian had attempted to refuse.
Marquise Beaumont had insisted.
Aurelian, having acquired at least enough wisdom during his season to recognize when arguing with a marquise was pointless, had graciously accepted.
The rest of the week had disappeared almost before he noticed it.
There had been farewell shopping trips with friends, long afternoons spent over tea, and even an excursion beyond the palace walls to a small lake where several of them had taken boats onto the water.
There had also been horseback riding.
That particular outing had resulted in the rather amusing discovery that some of his capital friends had apparently forgotten Aurelian was a country baron.
After weeks of watching him stumble through complicated dances, improper introductions, and elaborate dining etiquette, they had not expected him to handle a horse with ease.
Aurelian had enjoyed their astonishment immensely.
And now, after all of it, he found himself standing once more before the grand staircase that had terrified him at his first royal ball.
This time he wore deep maroon and gold, the rich colors distinctly Bellafonte against the gleaming stone of the palace.
He stared up at the stairs.
He had conquered them once.
He could certainly do so again.
“Let us go,” Lady Lockwood said. “We must not dawdle.”
She was dressed in elegant white and silver for the evening. Aurelian offered her his arm, and together they began ascending the staircase while Varian took it upon himself to escort both Echo and Evelyne behind them.
With every step closer to the ballroom, however, some of Aurelian’s earlier confidence began to disappear.
Apparently surviving one ball did not make a man immune to nervousness at another.
By the time they reached the entrance, he had become painfully aware of his posture again.
Shoulders straight.
Chin level.
Do not stare at anyone.
Do not trip.
Do not invite anyone to Bellafonte without considering the possible social implications.
Lady Lockwood had been particularly insistent about that last one.
They entered.
The ballroom was already crowded, filled with warm conversation while servants moved gracefully between guests carrying trays of champagne and wine.
Aurelian resisted the urge to immediately search for familiar faces.
More importantly, no one appeared particularly interested in staring at him.
That was encouraging.
Perhaps, for once, he had entered a ballroom without causing some sort of commotion.
He escorted Lady Lockwood farther into the room before she eventually released his arm to greet several acquaintances.
Aurelian turned toward his friends—
—and noticed a familiar figure across the ballroom.
Marquis Adrian Leister stood among a group of gentlemen, speaking easily with several older nobles. A few of the men Aurelian recognized from the Argent Aile, including Sir Cedric Moreland and, unfortunately, Baron Henry.
Adrian appeared perfectly at ease among them.
Aurelian smiled.
“I am going to greet someone.”
Echo looked toward him. “Who?”
But Aurelian had already started walking.
Behind him came a startled sound.
Then another.
He glanced over his shoulder just long enough to see Evelyne grab Varian’s arm while the two stared after him with matching expressions of astonished delight.
Echo merely looked dumbfounded.
Aurelian frowned.
What was wrong with them?
He was only greeting a friend.
When Adrian noticed his approach, his expression immediately warmed.
That seemed to surprise Echo even more.
“Lord Adrian,” Aurelian greeted once he reached the group. “It is good to see you.”
“And you, Lord Aurelian.”
Aurelian offered a quick greeting to the other gentlemen as well.
“Sir Cedric.”
“Bellafonte!” Sir Cedric greeted cheerfully. “I was wondering whether we would see you tonight.”
Aurelian smiled before turning politely toward Baron Henry.
“Baron Henry.”
“Bellafonte.”
Henry returned the greeting, although his tone was noticeably more strained.
Aurelian decided not to hold that against him.
Tonight, at least, he intended to enjoy himself.
“I believe I will leave you gentlemen to your conversation,” Adrian said, turning toward Aurelian. “Lord Aurelian appears to require me for something.”
Aurelian smiled apologetically at the others as Adrian excused himself from the group.
The two did not go far, settling instead near one of the ballroom’s enormous windows. They were still visible to the gathering, but far enough removed that anyone hoping to overhear them would need to make their curiosity embarrassingly obvious.
“You did not have to abandon your conversation on my account,” Aurelian said quietly.
“Abandon is a generous word.” Adrian adjusted one of his cuffs. “It had deteriorated into drivel several minutes ago. You merely provided me with an acceptable excuse to escape.”
Aurelian laughed softly.
A servant passed carrying a tray of champagne. Unlike their first meeting at the art exhibition, Adrian accepted a glass.
After only a moment of hesitation, Aurelian did the same.
He rarely drank alcohol and had little fondness for the harsher liquors he had encountered at the Argent Aile, but champagne seemed considerably less threatening than whiskey or scotch.
Besides, perhaps a little would settle his nerves.
“I have an ailment I would like to discuss with you,” Aurelian said.
Adrian paused with his glass halfway to his lips.
“An ailment?”
“A social one.”
“Ah.” Adrian’s mouth curved. “For a moment, I feared I was about to be expected to practice medicine.”
Aurelian gave him an unimpressed look.
“I thought you were merely a bold country baron who did not concern himself with such things.”
“You jest, but I assure you I worry constantly.” Aurelian sighed. “And overthink. Quite extensively.”
“That I believe.”
Aurelian took a small drink before lowering his glass.
“It concerns the duchess.”
Something in Adrian’s expression sharpened, though his pleasant smile remained.
“Duchess Vaelmont?”
Aurelian nodded.
“I am listening.”
Aurelian released a slow breath.
Their first meeting had gone exceptionally well, and since then Adrian had proven pleasant company. More importantly, he seemed to understand the peculiarities of noble society without finding Aurelian’s ignorance of them particularly amusing.
Surely he could be trusted with something like this.
“The duchess asked me to dance with her tonight.”
Adrian stopped mid-sip.
For the briefest moment, his expression became perfectly still.
“She asked you?”
“Yes.”
Adrian lowered his glass.
His gaze moved over Aurelian more carefully now, taking in the tension in his shoulders and the nervous way his fingers tightened around the stem of his champagne flute.
“And this troubles you?” he asked.
“I am worried I will make a fool of myself.”
Adrian blinked.
Aurelian continued before he could respond.
“She is a good person, and everyone watches everything she does. If I step on her foot or turn the wrong way or do something equally ridiculous, it will not only embarrass me. People may speak poorly of her for choosing me as a partner.”
Adrian regarded him in silence.
Aurelian shifted beneath the scrutiny.
“Do you think she would be upset with me?”
“For stepping on her foot?”
“For making a spectacle of us.”
Something almost incredulous passed through Adrian’s expression before disappearing.
“She may not be expecting perfection from you,” he said at last.
Aurelian visibly relaxed.
“You think so?”
“I do.”
“That is reassuring.”
Adrian swirled the champagne slowly in his glass.
“Although…”
Aurelian immediately tensed again.
“Although?”
“You may be placing more significance upon the invitation than she intended.”
Aurelian frowned.
“I do not understand.”
Adrian adopted a thoughtful expression, as though carefully considering how best to spare his friend unnecessary embarrassment.
“Duchess Vaelmont has spent most of her life surrounded by soldiers, courtiers, politicians, and nobles desperate for her favor. You are…”
He paused.
Aurelian waited.
“Different.”
Aurelian’s brows rose.
“That did not sound entirely complimentary.”
“It was meant to be.”
Adrian laughed softly before continuing.
“You do not flatter her. You do not seem particularly impressed by her title. Half the time, I suspect you forget how powerful she actually is.”
“I do not forget.”
Adrian looked at him.
Aurelian hesitated.
“Not frequently.”
“Precisely.”
Aurelian took another small drink.
Adrian leaned one shoulder casually against the window frame.
“I imagine she finds your company refreshing. Perhaps even amusing.”
“Amusing?”
“Not in a cruel sense.” Adrian gave him a reassuring smile. “You provide something uncommon here, Aurelian. Novelty.”
The word settled between them.
Aurelian looked down at his glass.
“Novelty.”
“There is nothing wrong with that,” Adrian continued smoothly. “Many friendships begin because one person finds something interesting in another.”
Friendship.
The tension in Aurelian’s shoulders eased almost immediately.
“So you believe she only asked because we have become friends?”
“I believe Duchess Vaelmont enjoys your company.”
It was not quite an answer.
Aurelian accepted it as one.
“That makes considerably more sense.”
Adrian lifted his champagne again.
Across the ballroom, musicians had begun taking their places.
Aurelian watched them for a moment before smiling faintly to himself.
“I suppose I have been worrying unnecessarily.”
“You do have a talent for that.”
“I told you.”
Adrian chuckled.
Their conversation continued for several more minutes before the herald’s voice rang clearly through the ballroom.
“Their Imperial Majesties, King Richard and Queen Celeste Evelina, and Her Imperial Highness, Princess Serena Evelina.”
Conversations softened almost immediately.
Aurelian turned toward the grand entrance as the royal family appeared at the top of the staircase.
They descended together beneath the attention of the entire ballroom, the king severe and commanding as always, Queen Celeste graceful beside him, and Princess Serena following with considerably more curiosity in her expression than either of her parents.
Aurelian watched for only a moment before preparing to turn his attention elsewhere.
Then he noticed the princess looking around the room.
Her gaze passed over several groups before finding him near the windows.
Serena brightened.
And waved.
Aurelian blinked.
Surely—
She waved again, small and perfectly casual.
Oh.
He smiled and returned the gesture.
It seemed rude not to.
What Aurelian failed to notice was the immediate reaction of nearly everyone standing close enough to witness the exchange.
Several conversations faltered.
A gentleman nearby stopped mid-sentence.
One woman lowered her fan.
Across the ballroom, Varian stared at him as though Aurelian had personally announced his intention to seize the throne.
Evelyne grabbed his sleeve.
Echo simply looked horrified.
Aurelian, meanwhile, turned back toward Adrian.
“The princess appears to be in good spirits tonight.”
Adrian stared at him.
Aurelian frowned.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Adrian lifted his champagne to conceal the faint curve of his mouth.
Across the room, Echo apparently reached the limits of her patience.
She marched toward them.
Aurelian noticed her approach only when she was nearly upon them.
“Lady Echo.”
Echo ignored him.
Instead, she stopped before Adrian and offered the marquis a proper bow.
“My lord, forgive the interruption, but I need to borrow Lord Aurelian for a moment.”
Adrian’s eyes flicked toward Aurelian. Then toward the expression on Echo’s face.
He appeared thoroughly entertained.
“By all means, Lady Sinclair.”
“Thank you.”
“Do return him in one piece.”
“I make no promises.”
“Echo—”
She seized Aurelian by the wrist.
He barely managed to keep hold of his champagne before she pulled him away.
“Good evening, Lord Adrian,” Aurelian called over his shoulder.
Adrian raised his glass in farewell.
Echo did not release Aurelian until they had returned to Varian and Evelyne. The moment they reached them, the four instinctively closed into a small circle.
Evelyne looked delighted.
Varian looked even more delighted.
Echo looked as though she had developed a headache.
“I thought you had no interest in the princess,” she whispered sharply.
Aurelian stared at her.
“I do not.”
“Then what was that?”
“What was what?”
“The waving!”
Aurelian looked genuinely confused.
“She greeted me.”
“The imperial princess waved at you across a ballroom.”
“Yes.”
“And you waved back.”
“It would have been terribly rude to ignore her.”
Echo shut her eyes.
Varian pressed his lips together.
Evelyne made a suspicious choking sound behind her fan.
Aurelian glanced between them.
“I fail to understand the problem.”
“That,” Echo said, pointing discreetly toward the royal family, “was not a meaningless greeting.”
“It was a wave.”
“From the princess.”
“I am aware of who she is.”
“Are you?”
Aurelian frowned at her.
“At my presentation, we had a pleasant conversation,” he explained. “She seemed to take a liking to me.”
He decided not to mention the part where Serena had asked whether he expected to become her uncle.
Echo already looked sufficiently overwhelmed.
“That is a rather important detail to omit,” Varian said.
Aurelian looked at him. “Why?”
The three stared at him.
Evelyne finally spoke.
“Because having Princess Serena openly acknowledge you is a very good sign.”
“Of what?”
“That she likes you.”
“I just said that.”
“As a person,” Evelyne clarified.
“Yes.”
“And if the princess likes you,” Varian continued, lowering his voice further, “then you are considerably safer with the royal family than most men in this room.”
Aurelian looked doubtful.
“That seems rather far-fetched.”
“It is not,” Varian said.
“The king adores her,” Evelyne added. “Everyone knows it.”
“That does not mean he approves of every person she speaks to.”
“No,” Varian conceded. “But it does mean anyone she openly dislikes should probably begin reconsidering their life choices.”
Aurelian gave him a flat look.
Evelyne leaned closer.
“He is not exaggerating much.”
“That is not reassuring.”
“There was once a gentleman who attempted to corner the princess in one of the palace corridors,” Evelyne whispered.
Aurelian’s expression immediately changed.
“Corner her?”
“He had apparently decided that her repeatedly refusing his company was merely an invitation to become more persistent.”
Aurelian’s mouth tightened.
“What happened?”
“The king found out.”
Varian winced.
“He lost his position at court almost immediately.”
“And his family spent months attempting to repair the damage,” Evelyne added. “He was eventually sent away from the capital.”
Aurelian stared toward King Richard.
The king was speaking with a cluster of nobles near the dais, his expression as severe as ever.
After several seconds, Aurelian nodded.
“Good.”
Echo blinked.
“Good?”
“He was harassing a young girl.”
“Well, yes.”
“Then he deserved it.”
Varian looked amused. “You do realize that was not the point of the story.”
“I understand the point.”
Aurelian glanced toward Serena again. She was now speaking animatedly with her mother.
“I simply do not believe Her Highness greeting me means His Majesty has suddenly decided I am trustworthy.”
Evelyne smiled.
“Perhaps not.”
Echo folded her arms.
“But considering the princess likes you, the queen appeared fond of you during your presentation, and Duchess Vaelmont keeps seeking you out…”
She let the sentence hang.
Aurelian immediately became suspicious.
“What does the duchess have to do with this?”
All three of them stared at him.
Aurelian sighed.
“Why did I ask?”
The herald’s voice rang through the ballroom once more.
This time, the reaction was different.
Heads turned almost immediately toward the grand staircase as Duchess Seraphina Vaelmont appeared above them.
She had not abandoned her uniform for the evening.
Seraphina descended in the familiar deep blue of the royal knights, though tonight it had been made appropriate for the ballroom. Silver embellishments traced the edges of her fitted coat, catching beneath the chandeliers whenever she moved. The formal insignia of her command rested proudly against her chest, while a sapphire circlet sat among the intricate braids of her silver hair.
She looked every bit the Moon of the Empire.
Conversation throughout the ballroom noticeably quieted.
Aurelian had seen Seraphina dressed formally before, but something about seeing her enter in the uniform of her command made him straighten instinctively.
Beside him, Echo had gone completely still.
Varian was no better.
Even Evelyne’s fan had stopped moving.
None of them had ever been this close to the duchess before, much less been introduced to her personally.
At the bottom of the staircase, Seraphina approached the royal family.
Princess Serena was the first to greet her.
“Aunt!”
Any composure expected of an imperial princess seemed briefly forgotten as Serena brightened at the sight of her. Seraphina’s expression softened almost imperceptibly as she greeted her niece before turning to exchange a few words with Queen Celeste and King Richard.
The exchange was brief.
Formalities completed, the king stepped forward and announced the beginning of the evening’s festivities.
The musicians raised their instruments.
The first notes of the opening dance filled the ballroom. Guests began shifting toward prospective partners almost immediately.
Aurelian took a slow breath.
The evening had officially begun.
And somewhere during it, he had promised Seraphina a dance.
He wondered whether he should approach her now or wait until—
Seraphina looked into the crowd.
Her icy blue eyes moved over the assembled nobles with practiced indifference.
Then they stopped.
On him.
Aurelian froze.
Seraphina did not.
She stepped away from the royal family and walked directly into the ballroom.
People moved for her without being asked.
A path seemed to form naturally before the duchess as conversations faltered and curious eyes followed her progress.
At first, Aurelian assumed she was merely moving toward this side of the room.
Then she continued walking.
Toward him.
His stomach dropped.
“Oh,” Evelyne whispered.
Varian said nothing.
Echo slowly lowered her fan.
Aurelian glanced behind himself.
There was no one of particular importance standing there.
He looked forward again.
Seraphina was still coming.
“Oh,” Evelyne repeated, considerably more delighted this time.
“Do not start,” Aurelian muttered.
“I did not say anything.”
“You were going to.”
“I absolutely was.”
Aurelian had no opportunity to respond.
Seraphina had reached them.
The entire group bowed almost at once.
“Your Grace,” Varian greeted.
Echo and Evelyne followed, both remarkably composed considering how stiffly they had been standing only moments earlier.
Seraphina acknowledged them politely.
Then her attention settled upon Aurelian.
The rest of the group might as well have disappeared.
“Lord Aurel.”
His face immediately grew warm.
Even after hearing the nickname several times now, Aurelian had not quite become accustomed to the way she said it.
He nearly forgot to answer.
“Lady Sera.”
Someone nearby choked.
Aurelian’s eyes flicked briefly in the direction of the sound.
He decided he did not want to know.
Seraphina, meanwhile, appeared entirely unconcerned.
If anything, he thought he saw the faintest hint of amusement in her eyes.
Aurelian opened his mouth.
“I was actually wondering whether—”
Seraphina extended her hand, effectively stopping his words.
For one bewildered second, Aurelian merely stared at it.
Then he looked at her.
Seraphina’s expression remained composed despite the dozens of eyes now fixed upon them.
“Would you join me for this dance?”
The ballroom had gone silent.
Not entirely, of course. The musicians continued playing, and somewhere in the distance came the faint clink of glass against silver.
But conversation had vanished.
Aurelian’s friends stood frozen several steps away, watching the scene unfold with undisguised fascination.
Evelyne’s eyes practically sparkled.
Varian looked as though someone had just handed him the greatest piece of gossip of the season.
Echo, meanwhile, was beginning to wonder why she continued allowing herself to be surprised.
Aurelian attracted powerful nobles like honey attracted bees.
Marquise Beaumont adored him. Lady Lockwood had taken him under her wing. Countess D’Aubrey had been charmed by him. The imperial princess had waved to him across a ballroom.
And now Duchess Seraphina Vaelmont stood before him with her hand extended, asking him for the first dance of the evening.
Echo should have known better by now.
Aurelian, unfortunately, appeared to have stopped functioning.
He stared at Seraphina’s outstretched hand.
The opening dance was not insignificant. It was often shared with family, a favored companion, or someone a person wished to distinguish from the rest of the room.
Seraphina had asked him for it.
Not simply a dance.
The first.
His heart gave one hard beat against his ribs. Slowly, Aurelian lifted his hand and placed it in hers.
“I would gladly.”
Every lesson in elegant phrasing and proper ballroom etiquette fled his mind the moment Seraphina smiled.
It was small.
Barely there.
But it was real.
Aurelian felt heat rush across his face so quickly that he lowered his gaze in the desperate hope she would not notice.
She noticed.
Of course she noticed.
Seraphina said nothing about it. Her fingers closed gently around his hand instead, and she led him toward the dance floor.
Aurelian kept his eyes lowered for the first several steps, acutely aware of every person watching them.
Couples who had begun moving toward the center subtly changed course.
Those already preparing for the dance drifted toward the edges instead.
A path opened before Seraphina without anyone being asked to move.
By the time they reached the middle of the floor, Aurelian realized with mounting horror that they had somehow been given an enormous amount of space.
He glanced around.
“Why is everyone so far away?”
Seraphina followed his gaze.
“They are being polite.”
Aurelian looked at her.
“They have never been polite enough to give me half a ballroom before.”
The faintest amusement touched her eyes.
“Would you prefer that I order them closer?”
“No.”
His answer came so quickly that her smile returned.
Aurelian breathed deeply.
He knew this dance.
That was what mattered. He had practiced it more times than he cared to remember.
Echo had corrected his posture.
Lady Lockwood had corrected his timing.
His mother had corrected everything else.
There was absolutely no reason for him to be nervous.
Then Seraphina stepped closer, and Aurelian forgot nearly everything.
Her hand settled into his. His other rested carefully at her side while her free hand came to his shoulder. She was close enough that he could see the delicate silver embroidery running along the collar of her uniform.
Close enough to notice the pale blue stones woven through the circlet in her hair.
Close enough that her eyes seemed less icy than they did from across a room.
“Lord Aurel.”
He blinked.
“Yes?”
“The music has begun.”
“Oh.”
Seraphina’s mouth twitched.
Aurelian immediately stepped forward.
Thankfully, instinct rescued him where thought had failed.
One step.
Then another.
His body remembered what his mind apparently could not.
They moved with the melody, slowly at first, Aurelian painfully conscious of every placement of his feet.
One. Two. Three.
Do not step on her.
Turn.
One. Two. Three.
Still alive.
Seraphina watched him for several moments before speaking.
“You are counting.”
“No.”
“You are.”
“I am concentrating.”
“Very loudly.”
Aurelian looked at her.
She was teasing him.
Again.
“You asked me to dance,” he whispered. “The least I can do is make certain you leave with both feet intact.”
“I have survived battlefields, Lord Aurel.”
“That does not mean I should present a new danger.”
A soft laugh escaped her.
Aurelian nearly missed his next step.
He recovered just in time, yet Seraphina noticed that too.
“This is cruel,” he murmured.
“What is?”
“Making me laugh while I am attempting to concentrate.”
“I was unaware you were so easily distracted.”
“I am not.”
Her brow rose.
Aurelian sighed.
“Perhaps I am. Slightly.”
They turned again.
Somewhere during the next few measures, he stopped counting.
The steps became easier when he stopped thinking about them.
More importantly, Seraphina made them easy.
She never rushed him. Never forced him into a turn before he was prepared. When he hesitated, she adjusted almost imperceptibly, allowing him to find the rhythm again without drawing attention to the mistake.
It occurred to Aurelian that this was probably what dancing with a skilled swordswoman felt like.
He decided not to tell her that.
For the first time since entering the ballroom, he allowed himself to look directly at her.
And once he did, everything beyond her became strangely unimportant.
The watching nobles faded into movement and color.
The whispers waiting to begin once the music ended ceased to matter.
Even the enormous ballroom itself seemed smaller somehow.
There was only the music.
The steady movement of their steps.
And Seraphina.
“You seem calmer,” she observed.
“I am.”
“What changed?”
Aurelian considered the question before answering quietly.
“I stopped looking at everyone else.”
Seraphina’s expression softened.
“That usually helps.”
“I imagine you learned that long ago.”
“I learned not to care whether they were looking.”
“That seems considerably more difficult.”
“You become accustomed to it.”
Aurelian glanced briefly toward the edge of the floor.
He immediately spotted Echo, Evelyne, and Varian.
All three were staring at him.
He turned back to Seraphina.
“Yes. I prefer my method.”
Her lips curved.
For several moments, neither of them spoke.
Aurelian found that he did not mind the silence.
It was different from the uncomfortable pauses he often suffered through with strangers. There was no frantic need to think of something clever or socially acceptable to say.
Silence with Seraphina felt surprisingly natural.
Eventually, she broke it.
“Did you enjoy the poetry collection?”
Aurelian blinked.
“The one from the bookstore?”
“Yes.”
Recognition dawned.
Then embarrassment.
“You saw me buy it?”
Seraphina nodded.
“It was difficult not to notice. You waited until I put it down and then carried it to the counter.”
Aurelian’s face warmed.
He had hoped he had been considerably more discreet than that.
Apparently not.
“You seemed interested in it,” he admitted.
“So you bought it?”
“I thought that if it was enough to catch your attention, it might be worth reading.”
Something in Seraphina’s expression softened.
“And?”
“I enjoyed it.”
He hesitated.
“Although I have discovered that reading it lately has become somewhat difficult.”
“Why?”
Aurelian hesitated again.
Because every time he opened it, he remembered the bookstore.
And whenever he remembered the bookstore, he remembered Seraphina standing beside him between the shelves.
Then the walk.
Tea.
Her laughter.
He could hardly tell her that.
“I have been distracted.”
“By your departure?”
“That as well.”
Seraphina regarded him for a moment but did not press.
Instead, she asked, “Have you written anything?”
Aurelian nearly stumbled.
She steadied him with the smallest movement of her hand as his face warmed again.
“You remembered.”
“You told me you wished to publish someday.”
“I did.”
“And that you were afraid to attach your name to your work.”
Aurelian stared at her.
It had been such a small conversation.
At least, he had thought it was.
“You remembered all of that?”
Seraphina’s gaze remained on his.
“Yes.”
Something in his chest tightened.
Not painfully.
Just enough to make him suddenly aware of his heartbeat again.
“I have started writing.”
Seraphina’s eyebrows lifted slightly.
“You have?”
“A little.”
“That is not an answer.”
Aurelian laughed quietly.
“Yes. I have.”
Her expression changed.
There was no teasing this time.
She looked genuinely pleased.
“I am glad.”
“I have not written anything worth publishing.”
“That was not what I asked.”
“No.”
“You began again.”
“I did.”
“Then that is enough for now.”
Aurelian looked down at their joined hands for a brief moment.
Her words were simple.
Yet somehow they settled somewhere deeper than the compliments he had received over his poetry at the Primrose estate.
Perhaps because she knew he was frightened.
And she had never once treated that fear as something shameful.
“I think what you told me helped,” he admitted.
“About courage?”
Aurelian nodded.
“You said courage did not require the absence of fear.”
“It does not.”
“I am still afraid.”
“So am I.”
That surprised him enough that he nearly stopped dancing.
“You?”
Seraphina gave him an incredulous look.
“I am not made of stone, Lord Aurel.”
“I did not mean—”
“I know.”
He smiled sheepishly. “It is merely difficult to imagine you frightened of anything.”
“There are many things I fear.”
“Such as?”
Seraphina was quiet. For just a second, something unreadable crossed her face.
Then it disappeared.
“Perhaps I will tell you someday.”
Aurelian smiled.
“I will hold you to that.”
“I expected you would.”
The music carried them into another turn.
Their colors moved together beneath the chandeliers: Seraphina in deep blue and silver, Aurelian in maroon and gold.
Winter and summer.
Moonlight and warmth.
The contrast was striking enough that more than one noble watching from the edges of the ballroom would remember the image long after the evening ended.
Neither of them noticed.
“You leave in three days,” Seraphina said.
Aurelian’s smile faded slightly.
“Yes.”
“You sound disappointed.”
“I have enjoyed Evelina more than I expected.”
“That is not what you said when you arrived.”
Aurelian laughed.
“When I arrived, I thought the capital intended to devour me.”
“And now?”
“Now I think it merely enjoys biting occasionally.”
Seraphina laughed under her breath.
Aurelian smiled at the sound.
“I will miss everyone,” he admitted. “Echo. Varian. Evelyne. Lady Lockwood. Cecily and her family. Even some of the gatherings.”
“Some?”
“I refuse to miss the Argent Aile.”
“That seems reasonable.”
“And I will miss the bookstores.”
“There are books in Bellafonte.”
“Yes, but ours are much smaller.”
“A tragedy.”
“A terrible one.”
Another quiet moment passed.
Then Seraphina said, “The capital will be quieter after you leave.”
Aurelian looked at her.
Her expression remained composed, but something about the way she said it made the words feel strangely personal.
“You make it sound as though I am particularly loud.”
“You are.”
His eyes widened.
Seraphina continued before he could protest.
“Not in volume.”
“That hardly improves matters.”
“You have a habit of changing things.”
Aurelian stared at her.
“I am beginning to think this is an insult.”
“It is not.”
“Then I am very confused.”
Her gaze softened.
“You arrive somewhere, and people behave differently afterward.”
Aurelian did not know what to say to that.
He thought of the welcoming tea.
The Primroses.
The gentlemen’s club.
All the strange rumors and unexpected friendships that had somehow followed him through his season.
“I am fairly certain most of that happened by accident.”
“I know.”
That made him laugh.
The melody began to soften.
With surprising disappointment, Aurelian realized they were nearing the end.
He did not want the dance to finish yet.
The thought came so naturally that it took him a moment to recognize it.
Before he could examine the feeling too closely, he gathered what remained of his courage.
“May I impose a request?”
Seraphina’s eyes returned fully to his.
“A request?”
Aurelian hesitated.
Then forced himself onward.
“May I write to you?”
Seraphina watched him carefully.
For one terrible second, Aurelian wondered whether he had overstepped.
Then she answered.
“Yes.”
His expression brightened.
“I would like that,” she added.
Something warm spread through his chest.
“Truly?”
“Would I have said it otherwise?”
“No.”
He smiled.
“No, I suppose you would not.”
The final notes of the dance began to play.
“I will send the first letter,” Aurelian promised.
“I am looking forward to it.”
He smiled at her then.
Wide and unguarded.
The music ended on one long, elegant note.
Applause rose around them.
Aurelian startled. For several minutes, he had forgotten there was an audience at all.
He stepped back and bowed as etiquette demanded.
“Thank you for the dance, Lady Sera.”
Seraphina inclined her head.
“Thank you, Lord Aurel.”
Their hands should have separated then.
Aurelian knew that.
Seraphina knew it too.
Yet her fingers remained around his for one heartbeat longer.
Perhaps two.
Then she released him.
Aurelian looked down at his hand.
Something warm and strange fluttered low in his stomach.
When he looked up again, Seraphina was watching him with that same small smile she rarely gave anyone.
He smiled back.
Across the ballroom, Echo slowly covered her face with her fan.
Evelyne had both hands wrapped around Varian’s arm.
Varian looked as though he had just witnessed the conclusion of a particularly satisfying stage play.
And farther beyond them, Marquis Adrian Leister stood perfectly still.
His champagne glass rested untouched in his hand.
His earlier amusement had disappeared.
For all his careful reasoning about novelty and friendship, there had been nothing casual about the way Seraphina Vaelmont had crossed that ballroom.
Nothing casual about the way she had looked at Aurelian while they danced.
And certainly nothing casual about the way she was looking at him now.
Aurelian noticed none of it.
He had been worried for nothing.
The dance had gone wonderfully.
More importantly, Seraphina seemed happy.
Perhaps Adrian had been right.
They had simply grown comfortable with one another.
Aurelian glanced once more at the duchess beside him and felt that peculiar warmth return to his chest.
Yes.
They were becoming very good friends.
Chapter discussion