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The lights of the ballroom cast a glow on the guests’ faces. Couples danced between each other, dresses and suits conflicting in the bright room. She watched them, a dull smile on her face. Because there she was again, forcing laughter and faking smiles. The only virtue of the night was how she looked. Her dress was bright red and a bit too low in the chest and a bit too high above her ankles, with her hair up and away from her face, a look that was sure to draw stares.
But she didn’t care about them. The only stare she wanted was from the one person she had yet to see. The countess had encountered you only once, very briefly, at a state dinner almost a year ago. Since then you had not left her mind. She could still see your sparkling eyes, your charming smile, the ease with which you moved and spoke, as though societal expectations didn’t matter in the slightest. If she was honest with herself, she would admit her jealousy. But she was a lady, and so she would keep that secret to the bitter end.
It did not help the disappointment that clanged through her as she sipped from the wine glass in her hand. You weren’t there.
Just as she had prepared herself to dance with a sleazy duke or insufferable noble, a hand planted itself on her waist, and she was spinning, turning towards the person who was bold enough to touch her with abandon, curt words on her lips when they died before a sound could escape.
There you were, eyes bright, lips curled in a secret smile as though you knew she hadn’t been able to forget you. “Hello, countess.” Your hand left her waist as you dipped into a low bow, a mocking bow, eyes never leaving hers. As you rose, you grabbed her hand and placed a kiss on it, and she tried to ignore her racing heart.
She stepped away, playing aloof as she sipped on her wine, trying to stay in charge of the situation, even though she knew it was futile. She had lost any semblance of control as soon as you were involved. “You are certainly bold for a person of no status.” Another sip of wine.
You kept your distance, but it suddenly wasn’t enough as your laugh reached her ears. The room wasn’t big enough for you, for your personality, for your existence. “And you, my dear countess, are not nearly bold enough for someone of your station.” You reached to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, and it took everything in her to not jump away. Her eyes were pinned on yours, and the tension was palpable, and it felt as though everyone else had melted away. She knew that in your presence, societal pressures and class didn’t matter anymore. She had to tread carefully. She couldn’t give in to you so easily.
“Countess, is this person bothering you?” A man to her rescue, how cliche. As if she needed rescuing. She turned to the new voice and it was only her years of being the centre of attention that saved her from wincing. It was the duke of a forgettable but wealthy nation at the edge of the country’s borders. He had made it no secret that he had been vying for her hand since her husband’s mysterious disappearance, and she made it no secret that her affections lay elsewhere. He didn’t wait for an answer before turning to her companion, a sarcastic smile on his lips. “Leave the lady alone, child, before I escort you away.”
“It’s humorous that you call me a child when the lady of your affections is but a year younger than I am, good sir.” You kept a light tone, but the meaning of your words didn’t escape either of the people before you. The Duke’s smile fell, and all illusion of niceties with it.
“Because you’re new here I’ll give you another chance to leave before--”
“Enough. I was not bothered by their company, though I am by yours. Will you give us leave to continue our conversation as it was before your rude interruption?” She didn’t recognize the voice that came from her, for it wasn’t one she had heard before. She raised an eyebrow. “Or did you forget that this was my party and therefore I can remove whomever I wish?”
A moment of contemplation from the Duke before he scowled and stalked away, his mood turned for the worse. She released a breath she hadn’t known she was holding as he moved further away from them. “Oh, my goodness. What have I done?”
You moved closer to her, mouth by her ear. “What you’ve wanted to do for months since your husband… disappeared. But we know the truth, don’t we?” Your breath was hot on her ear, her neck, and she couldn’t suppress the shiver that overtook her.
The words were barely audible as she spoke. “How do you know.”
You moved away, and she shivered again, for an entirely different reason. “I know many things, my dear countess. Many things that could get both of us in trouble if they were to be revealed.” Another smile, this one conspiratory. She felt her knees wobble, and she clenched them together in a last-ditch effort to keep her composure.
As if you knew her predicament, your smile turned wolfish, but before she could say a word you spoke again. “It was enchanting to meet you.” The words were gentle, sincere. Meaningful. She shuddered as your lips met her cheek, but before she could say anything you had left, slipping into the crowd. She was left standing there like a fool, hand on her cheek as your kiss lingered, as her head was full of only one thing. You.