"Take deep breaths, darling." Maude whispered.

Quinn gritted her teeth and gave a smile that was more threatening than anything else.

"I am not dancing with him. He's rude." She objected through clenched teeth.

"He was so rude that I remember him out of all these douchebags. That's how rude he was."

Maude winced.

"He's coming this way. Sorry, dear." Maude warned before making a hasty retreat to one of the seats on the side of the room.

Yay.

The man in question was one of the many people that Quinn had met, and his most memorable feature was his unpleasant personality.

He was almost movie star pretty.

But Quinn's gift revealed him as oily. That was the only thing she could think of. He radiated an oily vileness.

And then he opened his mouth.

The first question he'd asked had been a subtle dig at the fact that Quinn had a lack of cleavage. The second remark had been his doubts of her bloodline, and his third, a crude remark on how he would be willing to sacrifice his precious time on her anyways.

He probably had women fall to their knees before him in awe of his purse size.

Quinn was more likely to take out his kneecaps with a weapon the size of his ego.

"May I have this dance, Lady Quinn?" He outstretched a hand, his nails tipped in bright green to match his tie.

The most amusing part of the evening was the fashion trend in Elurra for men to paint their nails. And apparently, there was some sexist bylaw preventing women from doing the same.

Quinn knew the appropriate protocol called for her to graciously accept and curtsey before joining him.

She had to dance with him, otherwise it would be a major social faux-pas.

But that didn't mean she had to give him any respect.

"I'll allow it." Quinn declared, channeling her inner royal and thrusting out her hand.

She didn't curtsey, and he stiffened at the subtle slight.

Good. What a creep.

They began the dance, and Maude's advice had been to let the man lead her so that she didn't forget the steps, but Quinn couldn't help but try and actively distance her body from the man.

"Where did your Aunt say you were studying, again? Its unusual that with your Aunt's present condition you wouldn't visit more often." He inquired.

An interrogation.

Two could play this game.

"My Aunt's condition? She's been this way for over a decade, ever since I was a child. I hardly think that my presence was going to miraculously heal her of what currently ails her." Quinn shot back smoothly.

Then she bounced the conversation back for good measure.

"Speaking of ailments," Quinn continued. "I heard rumor that you were out getting.....treatments for certain....struggles in performance."

She lowered her eyes pointedly.

The man gasped, insulted. Yeah, Quinn had overdone it a little.

"I just wanted to warn you to be a little more discreet. Who knows what that information could do to your reputation." Quinn threatened.

The man's hold tightened. He pulled her closer.

Quinn pulled back.

She felt his oily presence tinge with rage and something calculated.

She needed to get away.

Remembering the rules of social etiquette, Quinn purposefully swung her leg (a little harder than necessary), both kicking the man as well as tripping and landing her on the ballroom floor.

Several bystanders gasped and gossiped as she collapsed.

"Oooo. OW." Quinn played it up for all she was worth. "Oh no! My ankle! I'm so sorry to cut our dance short, but I'm afraid that I just can't dance on this."

She whined the last part helplessly, acting out the part of the damsel in distress.

This did three things.

1) All eyes were on the man that hadn't led his partner properly. If he was going to hurt her, he'd have to do it with an audience.

2) Now she looked completely harmless. No one could think that a lady with an injured ankle was any threat.

And last but most importantly:

3) Quinn didn't have to dance anymore. She could bow out for the rest of the night if she so chose, and she got to go sit with Maude.

Quinn limped dramatically off the floor, announcing loudly, "Oh, I'm fine. I'm sorry, can I have some assistance, please? I can't seem to walk."

Several ladies glared at the man she had just escaped, whispering under their breath.

"How could he? Not even helping the lady of the dance floor. How rude."

"I heard that he has no manners at all. Seems those rumors have some truth."

One of the gentleman nearby helped her limp over to Maude, while another brought her a chair.

One thing the rich never passed up: the opportunity to publicly show their good charity.

Several people made offers to do anything they could to help, but Quinn knew it was only because she'd made a spectacle. If they had been in any other setting, these people would probably pretend they were deaf.

Maude snickered and patted her hand.

"Well played. What did you say that had him looking so aggreived?" Maude cackled.

"Nothing that wasn't probably true." Quinn replied.

The man lowered her into the chair.

A lady came clicking over with packed snow.

"Thank you so much for your help." Quinn fluttered her eyelashes. "I'm so embarassed."

She had been talking in the same high-pitched British accent all night, and it worked like a charm.

The first man bowed. "Of course. Anything for a relative of the Council."

Maude's eyes flashed, but she just muttered like the mad lady she was supposed to be.

Quinn reached out her gift.

This man felt....cold. Detached.

Quinn shivered.

"Everyone knows that Dennison is awful." The lady with the ice chimed in. "If I were you, I would've left the floor long before he sent you sprawling."

This lasy felt ditzy. Probably harmless. Definitely a little vain.

"Oh?" Quinn left the invitation open for gossip.

The lady's nose wrinkled.

"I heard he assaulted Reneelia last summer." She whispered loudly.

"It's best not to pay heed to gossip." The man said, his gray eyes trailing toward Quinn.

He bowed suddenly.

"If you'll excuse me, Lady Quinn, I have business to attend. My name is Passix Ore. Don't hesitate to let me know if you need more....assistance with any of your future endeavors." He stated.

And with that shadowed introduction, he slid into the crowd.

The lady next to her nodded.

"Of course. He's right. My name is Frizza DeLawr. The same invitation extends to me. If you need any help, I would be happy to help integrate you into the social ins and outs." She declared, dropping into a curtsey.

Maude was squinting at where Mr. Ore had disappeared. Her mouth was flat.

"Oh, thank you. That's very sweet. If you don't mind, I'll take you up on that offer. Well, at least, after I'm recovered. I would love to spend more time with you." Quinn gushed.

Frizza smiled and fiddled with her jewelry.

With her dazzling smile and even more dazzling jewels, it wasn't a suprise that she was asked to dance only a few minutes later.

Quinn turned her attention to Maude.

"Frizza's harmless." Maude informed her.

As suspected.

"In fact, with her connections, you'll receive more invitations than I could have gotten you before the Solstice."

Maude stared at the crowd.

"Don't speak to Passix. Ever." Maude told her.

Quinn blinked.

"He offered his help. Do not take him up on that offer. Stay as far away from him as you can."

Thank you for your support! It means a lot!

-SinkingLemon