Before I could even consider what was to be implied by such a remark, his hand left mine and settled on my waist. Now he had one on either side of me. My eyes widened in surprise, as my body lifted from the floor and into the air. I can feel his grip tighten around my waist as he swung me around the ballroom. We are moving so fast I barely noticed the sensation of his hands moving up my side and instinctively reached out to him. I locked my hands behind his neck, unintentionally drawing myself closer. It felt like an embrace. My head rested on his shoulder, and I watched as the nobles and ladies blur into each other. I can’t help imagining what the guests were thinking as I struggled to compose myself.

On full display are the future Duke and Duchess of House Barclay, recklessly dancing amongst high society. My face burnt with embarrassment, blatantly aware of what a sight we must be.

The shame I felt quickly morphed into anger at him for devising a stunt like this. He had me endure his entire sermon on the misgivings of the aristocracy, boasting of what customs are to be expected of the future duke and duchess. He preached how I must remain cordial with him, and even coerced me into addressing him by name. I wanted to lash out at him, but the present scrutiny of his court made me hesitate. I calmed myself before my expression regressed into a scowl. As infuriating as all this has been, I can’t allow such thoughts to be the cause of my misfortune. From this point forward, I mustn’t neglect to hide my emotions. With a deep breath, I unfastened my hands from his neck and gripped onto his shoulders, pushing myself back to face him.

“Lord Nikkolas,” I said, my voice carefully reserved.

“Yes, my dear Avalor,” he replied, his hazel eyes staring into the depths of mine. Dear. I struggled to digest his words as they echoed against my skull, leaving me speechless. I never realized how the simple addition of “dear” could provoke such repulse from a person, so much so that I felt a physical disgust. Disgust at the phrase, at his audacity, at the fact I couldn’t break eye contact with him through it all. I remained frozen in his gaze. I part my lips to speak, but I can think of no response. My only certainty is that I made a promise to myself; a promise that I would be diligent in masking my inner thoughts, but perhaps it will be one I inevitably break.

“Are you alright, Lady Avalor?” His eyes narrowed as his previously placid demeanor melted into concern. He set me down, and maintained a supportive hold on me, seemingly fearful I might just faint onto the floor. Still dazed from both him and the dance, I looked at him meekly. “Do you feel lightheaded at all?” He leant in closer to me, holding a hand to my head to examine my face. As much as his kindness takes me aback, I don’t refuse his hospitality, trying to remain unaffected. I decide to allow him to play the role of physician, considering this may work to my advantage. “Do you need to lie down?” His Grace asked. I perk up at the prospect of secluding myself within the confines of my bedroom, away from the prying eyes of them all. I am invigorated by my sudden stroke of luck.

“Uh, y-yes, Lord Nikkolas,” I said, purposefully mucking up my words so as to pull at his heart strings. I then put a hand to my temple and winced as though in pain. He took the bait, oddly mirroring my ache in his expression, like it was his own. He turned away to his staff, speaking briskly at them.

“You,” he beckoned one of his aids with a curved finger, relying on his opposite hand to steady me, “Come here.” I recognize the force of his tone as it reverberates through the indiscriminate banter of the guests. The staff member promptly nodded his head in acquiesce, seemingly familiar with His Grace’s sudden demands, and motions to leave his post. I notice the guests, too, take consideration of his request, watching on. The attendant hurriedly made his way towards us. Feigning dizziness, I allow my crimson hair to drape over my face and peer back through my bangs at His Grace. He turns to address the servant.

“Your Grace,” the attendant said, awaiting further instruction. With my face obscured from view, I allowed myself to smirk in anticipation of His Grace ordering I be sent to my room.

“I shall escort Lady Avalor to my bench so that she may wait out the festivities, but close enough that we may keep a close eye on her condition. Inform the other staff to bring out pillows and anything else that she may require.” With that, the servant is dismissed and began heading back towards the other attendants to fetch me my ever so necessary supplies. I stand motionless as His Grace steadies his focus on me, still coping with the fact I had been so very wrong as to assume he would let me off so easily. “Lady Avalor,” he said gently, “please allow me to escort you somewhere you may rest.”

I tried to assure myself that although it wouldn’t be the privacy I had hoped for, it still made for a good opportunity. The “bench” he was referring to was a cherry velvet sofa located in a small nook within the ballroom; its main purpose served as a rest area for idle chat among the nobles. However, I wouldn’t utilize it in this same manner. Rather, lying down on the sidelines would allow me to slip into the crowd. I felt certain he would merely shoulder my weight and assist me to the bench, but as he began to close what little space remains between us, I realized he has other plans.

I glanced up at him in dread, seeing the intent in his eyes. He wrapped his arm around my waist, pressing my body against his chest, and swooped his opposing arm from underneath my legs to lift me up. Cradled in his arms, I’m granted a better view of every guest, each of them in awe of the lovely couple as we headed towards the sofa. Women swoon at the sight of such a seemingly romantic gesture, scattering around us. I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes.

The plentiful stares seem to satisfy His Grace, and it occurs to me just how futile my efforts have been. I slowly raised my head up at him, communicating my defeat, and he winked back at me in response. Of course, my triumphs only further his. I’m nonchalant in my frustration as I put a hand to my temple, confident it will only appear as a hint of illness for those watching. His Grace noticed this, and placed a kiss upon my forehead as if that might alleviate my symptoms. I narrowed my eyes at him, the sensation of his lips lingering. An expression of sadistic sympathy adorns his face. How quaint.

“For your headache,” he said, his tone affectionate, his head tilted. I shut my eyes as I took a breath in and out, acutely aware of his repeated attempts to chip away at my patience.

“Lord Nikkolas,” I said, with a fake smile.

“Hmm?” His Grace replied, with a lingering gaze.

“I would advise you to limit your closeness with me, lest you catch my fatigue.” His Grace furrowed his brows at me, before shaking his head.

“You’re mistaken, Lady Avalor,” he said, with the utmost arrogance, “I have faith your ailment will be short lived.”

“And if it’s not?” I reasoned, raising a brow at him.

“Then it will be bed rest for the both of us,” he replied nonchalantly.

“I beg your pardon? In separate rooms, you mean?” I insisted, grimacing.

“I’m not certain, Lady Avalor,” he jested, “depending on the severity of your illness, we may have to isolate together.” He smiled, amused by the implication; I can’t quite share the sentiment. “How do you feel currently? Perhaps, I’ve already contracted your ailment?” he pressed, leaning closer. I rolled my eyes back before reaching out my hand to meet his face, quieting his delight.

“No, Lord Nikkolas,” I shook my head calmly, caressing his cheek, “I have severe doubt it could ever plague you, for my affliction first deprives you of your pride.” The warmth of his skin followed me as I drew my thumb over his chin. I pressed into his skin, and firmly adjusted his gaze so I might properly address him. “Which, in your case,” I said, tilting my head and pursing my lips, “appears naturally unaffected.” My fingers lingered on his chin before I swiped them past, ever so delicately extinguishing his flame.