“Escaping the pressures of high society actually.” He said, cautiously. His eyes lingered on her small frame, watching her. He’d been caught sneaking away; something about the girl sitting on the hall floor said she was doing the same. She took a messy bite out of a red apple in her left hand. Propping a book against her knee, she turned a page with her right forefinger. She did not once avert her eyes from the pages.
“Not one for dancing?” She asked, still reading. It was as though she feared she’d lose her place in the book and never find her way back.
“Not at all.”
“Curious. If you’re looking to escape high society, you won’t find it that way. I promise you I’ve looked.” She was making fun of him but still she didn’t take her eyes off the page to assess the stranger in front of her. Her behavior was completely anomalous for a lady at a party.
“What about you? Are you one for dancing?”
“When I’m expected.” Tyrian took a few steps forward, to lean against the wall beside her.
“Are you expected often?”
“Too often for my liking.” She turned the page again. Another bite of her apple.
“What are you reading?”
“A journal belonging to the late plato, translated into the british kings English.”
“Fancy philosophy?”
“I dabble.” She said, still reading.
“Well then, I suppose I should head back to the party.” Tyrian said, taking a step away from the wall to walk back the way he came.
“Pitty.” She smiled, finally looking up from her pages. “You almost seemed interesting.”
“Dost thou insult everyone you meet?” Tyrian asked, turning back to face her.
“I don’t usually meet many people.” She stood from the floor, folding the book in her hands. A single finger lay within its pages holding her place.
“That’s clear from your posture and incongruous manor of conversation.”
“I’m not the one inexplicably skulking around the halls at a party, looking to ‘escape society.’ Sir, if anyone here has an incongruous bone in their body it would be you. Ever the scoundrel, you didn’t even introduce yourself to me.”
“No, but you were the one sitting on the floor, wrinkling a rather pretty dress while a party is going on down the hall. Might I had you made no introductions either.” He stepped closer.
“An unaccompanied woman, introduce herself? Even I am not so brazen. You may have unwittingly stumbled upon me in a rather peculiar—possibly aberrant state, but does that excuse your own behavior? Dost thou often relinquish all proper formalities based on the present company’s behavior? Are you so easily influenced? Or am I a special case?” Tyrian looked at her perplexed. She was an absolute deviant and she had called him a scoundrel.
“‘Tis quite a talent you have for turning conversation, Perhaps my manors eluded me, for that I do offer my sincerest apologies. I hope to circumvent this,” he paused to recall the word she had used “influence in the future.” He looked at her more pointedly. “Still, let us not forget who spoke to whom first.” They reached an impasse.
“Touche. Je suppose que même une horloge cassée est correcte deux fois par jour.”
“Tu parle français?”
“Oui.” She smiled and took a step forward to match him. They were a breath away. “... and we should both be headed back to the party.” She closed her book, folding the corner of her page carefully inside. She looked at him then to the apple core in her hand. He raised an eyebrow at her and she smirked. Keeping his watch she tossed the apple core over her shoulder, back down the empty hallway. He couldn’t hide his shock. She raised a finger to her lips. Tyrian wasn’t sure what to make of this encounter. Mystified, he offered her an arm. She smiled up at him graciously, and intertwined her small hand in the crook of his elbow, allowing him to escort her. “Please sir… I beg your pardon I never did receive your name?”
“Lord Tyiran Boudreaux.” She walked a step ahead of him, her auburn hair a mess of natural curls atop her head. She was like a different girl than he’d seen a moment ago. Her back was straight, speech delicate, and features entirely composed. “And your name?” He asked her as they reached the door he’d snuck out of earlier. She opened the door without answering him. She released his arm, leaving him behind as she walked away. Carefully, she made her way to the gentleman at the front of the party who’d announced Tyrian and his mother earlier. Tyrian looked after her, grateful she hadn’t held onto him to cross the dance floor. The man in black near the door looked at her with shock and relief. She didn’t hand him a card. He stomped twice as before, in unison with the staff hitting the marble floor. The attention of every attendee was toward the entry way and the girl held her head high with a polite smile, eyes locked with Tyrian as if enjoying a private joke.
“Lady Soliel Delphine Markisean.” The entire party stopped to look upon her except the Countless who was staring wide eyed at her son from across the room, having spotted him walk in with her. Tyrian could already hear the whispers beside him:
“So the rumors aren’t true.”
“She isn’t plain, she’s gorgeous.”
“A bit old for a coming of age party, she must be 20”
“How embarrassing 20 and unwed.”
“I wonder what’s wrong with her?”
“Maybe she’s barren.”
“How would they know ? One wonder’s if her virtue is in question?”
“Is the Duke really so protective of his eldest daughter?”
“Didn’t she come in with someone?”
“Yes a gentleman.”
“Dost thou think she’s already chosen a suitor?”
Tyrian took slow steps backwards until his shoulders met the wall behind him. The girl had only walked into the room and people had started to gossip. Speaking of gossip. The countess had made her way over to her son with lightning speed.
“Why were you with Lady Soliel Markisean!” She whispered loudly.
“Shhhh” He pulled her aside.
“I saw you enter with a girl and I thought maybe you’d finally met someone you’d like to introduce me to and to find it’s the Lady Soliel Markisean! You had her unaccompanied!!! Did you do something?” Tyrian shhed his mother again eyes wide.
“No mother. I took a step out of the ballroom to get some air and I found her waiting in the hall, she asked me to escort her back inside, I had no idea who she was. I was simply trying to be a gentleman.” The countess mulled this over in her head. She decided that this was good news.
“I saw the way she smiled at you, she’s quite agreeable wouldn’t you say? With such grace and posture. She must have been through very intensive training, the best money could buy. I’d bet she doesn’t leave the house to keep up with her studies. The poise of that girl.”
“Yes mother she’s very… agreeable.” He said, his head still whirling. The room silenced again with the loud bang of the staff, the whispers of Lady Soliel came to a halt.
“The Duke Mare Markisean and his wife the Duchess Bellarose.” Lady Soliel politely curtseyed alongside the rest of the room as her parents entered. The dance floor cleared as the Duke and Duchess began to dance.
“What an entrance, fashionably late to their own party.” The Countess said in astonishment. Lady Soliel made her way through the crowd of attendees until she landed gracefully in front of the Countess.
“You must be the Countess of Castiglione, Jaqueline Boudreaux. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Soliel smiled and offered her a polite courtesy.
“The pleasure is mine Lady Soliel.” The Countess curtseyed back.
“I wouldn’t want to impose, but would you mind if I stole your son for a dance?” Soliel looked slowly to the right, up at Tyrian, and smiled innocently.
“I wouldn’t mind at all, of course it’s no imposition.” The Countess stepped back and Soliel held out her hand, knowing he absolutely couldn’t refuse her offer. Tyrian took it and let her lead him onto the dance floor.
“What are you doing?” He whispered.
“It's a tradition for me to join in this dance with my mother and father with a suitor of my choosing.”
“No, what are you doing asking me?” He kept his voice low as he took the lead in the dance.
“I don’t know anyone else.” She shrugged discreetly. “Besides, I yearned to dance with someone whom it displeases almost as much as it does me.” She winked at him and his mouth almost fell open. She was exasperating and he’d only known her for a few moments. “I do apologize for not being completely honest about my identity in the hall earlier. I don’t get many wandering guests in my home. I suppose I may have poked fun at your expense. Forgive me?” Tyrian spun her.
“Of course, the fault is all mine for not knowing who you were immediately. This is your party after all.” Soliel laughed.
“Oh I’m sure you wouldn’t have recognized me had the villagers given you a thorough description. They haven’t seen me since I was knee high and I believe the rumor’s say I am plainer than overcooked tea.”
“I doubt anyone could say such about you now.”
“Oh, I'm sure they will find something. You know a few years ago there was one that I had a hump on my back like Notre dame. Some even suggested that I might have died. Pity to miss my own funeral.” They were speaking in hushed tones and Tyrian almost felt almost sorry for her. Locked away all these years only to hear people say such horrible things about her. “I really do apologize I assumed when you came lurking down my halls that you were trying to catch a glimpse of the ‘hideous monster’ of a daughter this town assumes I am.”
“Not at all. I told you I’m just not one for dancing.”
“That may be, but you do it quite well.”
“Thank you Lady Markisean, you’re graceful in your steps as well.”
“Lady Markisean is my little sister, please, call me Soliel.”
“I’d prefer we stick to titles as to not encourage any rumors of familiarity Lady Markisean.” Soliel stifled a sigh. “A problem?”
“I thought maybe, with your talk of indifference and the need for escape, that you were different. It really is a shame Lord Boudreaux, I had let myself believe you someone of interest.” The song ended and she bowed to him. He bowed back stunned to silence by her response. He was going to say something but a golden haired young girl bounced up to her.
“You looked like a princess Soul!” Soliel smiled down at her.
“I will never be half the princess as you Madeline.”
“Is this your new husband?” She blinked at Tyrian. Soliel laughed.
“No Madeline, I haven’t found one quiet yet.” The young girl couldn’t have been older than 10 years of age.
“Don’t worry the’re a variety of eligible bachelors here. We will find you a prince.” Soliel patted the girl on the head fondly.
“Not all of us can be betrothed at nine like you darling girl. Madeline, this gentleman is Lord Boudreaux the Countess and the Earl’s son. They brought the manor down the way. Father might be doing business with them, be polite.” Madeline turned to Tyrian and curtsied.
“It is a pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Lord Boudreaux.”
“An absolute pleasure.” He bowed to Madeline. She smiled and walked off to find another dance partner. “A pleasure to meet you as well Lady Markisean.”
“Enchante.” Soliel bowed again.
“Enchanted.” She turned to head back to the rest of the party and her father appeared behind her.
“Soliel, why don’t you introduce me to your dance partner.” Soliel smiled with tight eyes.
“Papa, please I do believe I’ve taken up enough of this poor gentleman’s time.”
“Not at all, Duke Markisean, you have a lovely home and a lovelier daughter.”
“Please call me Markisean, my boy.” The duke extended his hand and Tyrian took it.
“Papa, this is Lord Tyrian Boudreaux, the Earl and Countess’s son.” Soliel seemed exasperated.
“Earl Boudreaux? Is he here tonight?”
“My apologies sir, business called him away tonight though I am positive he will be stricken with grief at having missed the chance to shake your hand.”
“Soliel go mingle with the suitors, I want to talk business with Lord Boudreaux, Tyrian was it?”
“Yes sir.” Soliel backed away slowly and mouthed an open ‘Sorry’ at Tyrian before disappearing back into the crowd. He wasn’t sure but he thought he saw her sneak her book back from the staff and head back out the door into the hall.
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