The night was beginning to wind down. The dance floor was beginning to clear, but several diligent couples still leaped and twirled to the music which was still being played by the magnificent band in the corner. The lights still shone brightly upon the luxurious tapestries and upon the courtiers, whether gliding gracefully across the dance floor, walking about the room, or sitting in small groups sipping wine and talking in low voices.


Lucy's energy was winding down similarly. She had had several dances, some partners more pleasant than others, but the dances themselves had been delightful as always. The music was amazing, the Marcheford wine beyond perfection, from the few glasses she had sipped, and the overall atmosphere was truly magical. Not that she would have expected anything less. This was the engagement ball for the Duchess of Pemberton, the leader of the most extravagant duchy in all of Adesia.


In fact, Lord Edmund, the soon-to-be Duke of Pemberton, had just finished making his formal proposal to Duchess Esabell. She had accepted, of course, as that had been the entire reason for the ball in the first place. Lucy had watched the events from a fair distance away, though she could still see the happiness on both faces when the acceptance was given. Perhaps Duchess Esabell truly did have feelings for her husband-to-be, as unlikely as Lucy had thought that was during their earlier conversation. She could not imagine being so delighted over a marriage she was being forced into; and she could not imagine marrying at all unless she WAS forced. That was a problem to worry about tomorrow, however...for the rest of tonight, she would continue to enjoy herself.


She smoothed down the royal purple silk of her ball gown; her best, heavily embroidered with silver which glittered in the Pemberton lights. Her golden waves were still perfectly in place despite the exertions of her dancing, held beneath a silver hair net sparkling with tiny diamonds and amethysts. Her necklace matched, with its fancy pendant of amethyst and diamond; as did the simple silver ring on her finger, set with a single amethyst. Every inch of her appearance proclaimed her the Duchess of beautiful and cultural Ashton, and Lucy loved it. She continued to watch the couples moving across the dance floor as the current song ended and a new one began, thinking that one more dance might be a nice way to close out the night.

The night was winding down, and Alden could feel the fatigue settling into his bones. He had not sat out a dance, seeking out a woman to dance with during every dance. He was the kind of man who could not stand to see a woman sit on the sidelines, wistfully, watching the couples. He did not enjoy seeing a genuinely sad woman. He had sought out those women, and attempted to make small talk, and put them at ease, making their night, and in return, the smiles they gave him were enough payment. The conversation had been fairly decent as well, and two of the women he had danced with expressed desire to visit Marcheford. He had gotten their names, and they had agreed. They would come visit, and Alden would show them the duchy.


Overall? A lovely evening, lovely food, lovely everyone. Lovely public relations as well, as now he was sure most of the people in the saw him as a charming young man, with a charming smile, and impeccable manners. The proposal between Edmund and Esabell had been spectacular, and Alden could see the genuine love in Esabell's eyes. He felt happy for the pair, for in her search for a way ro keep her duchy, she had also suceeded in finding a love. It was the kind of fairy tale ending Alden longed for.


Alden was a romantic, he wanted that love, but he was afraid of it. His father killed himself, because the woman he loved died. Alden didn't want any person to have that kind of effect on him. He didn't want to be in anybody's power. He wanted to be his own person. But it seemed that he belonged to everyone, and that was the problem. He loved easily, trusted easier. In his books, everyone started out with love and trust, and then they made their way down through their actions. In this way, he had only them to blame, not himself. It was this thinking that had gotten him this far, and he was glad of it. He was a duke.


His white and gold outfit shone in the lights, and in his hand was a goblet with Marcheford's finest in it. The ruby red color reminded him faintly of blood. His feet hurt, but still, he sought out another dance partner. His eyes scanned the sidelines, but everyone looked as exhausted as he felt. His eyes settled on Duchess Rochester. A faint smile on his face, he made his way over to her, setting his wine on a tray that a servent was carrying. He stopped in front of her, the gold almost blinding. He swept her a bow. "May I have this dance, your grace?"

As Lucy continued to scan the dance floor, she noticed someone approaching her out of the corner of her eye. She did not pay much attention at first, only an idle hope that he might be a prospective partner for her. But then he was standing squarely in front of her, and she suppressed a gasp with difficulty as she recognized Duke Alden Brighton of Marcheford standing before her, a vision in white and gold. No. Anyone but him...


She could still so clearly remember their first, and last, encounter. It was not one of Lucy's prouder moments, though she would admit that to nobody. It had started when they had both been caught in the Bog during a storm, when Lucy's horse had spooked and Duke Alden had actually rescued her. But it was the next day's events which unsettled her even more. Lucy had not known her rescuer's identity until he had been announced at her chamber door, and she had been more than a little shocked, especially considering the less-than-flattering opinion she had previously held of him. But then they had gone on to have the discussion Duke Brighton had previously requested by letter, and it had turned into a verbal fencing match to rival even the extremely delicate negotiations Lucy had previously concluded with Duke Westley Castyll of Harleston. The worst part for Lucy was that she was still not entirely sure who had won.


Still, this was far too public of an event for such matters. And even more importantly, Lucy had not seen a single young woman refusing an invitation to dance that evening; for her to do so now would invite still more public speculation, something there was already far too much of surrounding her and the Duke of Marcheford. In addition to that, Lucy very much desired to dance at least one more time, and if she refused Duke Brighton, there was no guarantee she would receive another invitation. So instead, she replied to his bow with a graceful curtsey. "I would be honored, Your Grace," she said in reply, placing her hand in his.


But before he could lead her onto the dance floor, she paused, again remembering the rumors which had surrounded them since their first meeting. If they would again be the targets of those rumors by Lucy refusing him, would that not still be the case, even more so, if they actually danced? For Lucy personally, the pleasure of another dance, even one with Duke Alden, outweighed the possible repercussions such a dance might have. But it might not be so for the Duke; although his having asked her in the first place would seem to indicate that he did indeed feel the same, he might not actually have thought about the possible consequences. Lucy would have to find out, casually.


"Are you quite certain you wish to dance with me?" she asked, a hint of teasing behind her voice. "After all, rumor already has us eloping...there is no telling what else anyone might create, if we are so scandalous as to actually dance together!"


Now why did Lucy suddenly very much hope that Duke Alden would not change his mind about dancing with her?

The hesitation was clearly etched all over Lucy's face, and Alden kept a charming smile on his own. She was quite obviously uncomfortable, but Alden paid that no mind. Unless she refused or had a good reason not to dance, he was perfectly within his rights to ask her to dance. She accepted, and her hand was now in his. Before he began to lead onto the dance floor she stopped, causing Alden to stop midstep. He turned, releasing her hand, to face her.


There was something holding her back, something which Alden had no idea about. Why was she not just taking the dance, and showing everyone from everywhere, that the two duchies had no underlying hatred towards each other. Best give everyone the impression that the pair were on extremely good terms, like old friends. It was as this thought passed through his head that he recognized her hesitation. She had no problem with him, she had a problem with the rumors their dance would evoke.


Now, Alden didn't pay much attention to the gossip going around, but when there was gossip going around about him, he liked to know exactly what was going on in his life. So of course he had heard those scattered rumors about him and various women. Was it his fault that those women got along so spectacularly with him? No, it was the fact that the women preferred his company, that they were targetted. He listened to her speak, and was quite surprised to hear teasing in her voice.


After their last meeting, he had expected her to be cold and standoffish, but instead, here she was standing, teasing him? Why, it must have been a miracle. Alden was still slightly wary, though he allowed his smile to become a tad bit warmer, and his face to open up a little. It was amazing what a tone of voice could do to a man. "Scandalous indeed." replied Alden, a cheeky smile now on his face. "What's the use of life, without a little scandal here and there?"


The evening was winding down, and Alden stood still, arm still extended towards her, his head tilted towards the dance floor. Music was playing, and laughter floated above all other noise. What a pleasant way to end the evening.

Lucy had learned long ago, never to act as everyone would expect. If people could begin to predict your actions, after all, then they could counter those actions and end up defeating you. So Lucy would occasionally act in a way completely unexpected of her. Not all the time, or else people would begin to expect the unexpected, and that would defeat the whole purpose. No, she usually acted, at least outwardly, in a way that would be mostly expected; she chose her moments carefully, to do something unexpected at a time when it would have the greatest effect.


Apparently her strategy had worked; she was sure Duke Alden would not have expected her to be so friendly to him. But she could not have been openly rude, or even overly cold, because that would have been noticed and remarked upon by the onlookers. Politeness and cordiality were expected in these circumstances, so that was what Lucy provided. It was only to Duke Brighton that it would be unexpected. And she saw that it was, although not unpleasantly so, as his smile widened at her words. She smiled back without realizing it at first, yet the smile remained even after she had.


Her smile widened and became an actual laugh upon hearing Duke Alden's words. Goodness, what in Adesia was coming over her? She never let herself go this much; she was always completely in control, that was how she had gotten where she was. For a moment, it almost felt like she was laughing with relief...but that was impossible! Why would she be relieved about a simple dance? No, it could not be that...she supposed it must merely be the exquisite Marcheford wine, of which she had drunk more than her usual allotment, against her better judgement. She had not consciously intended such a thing; but in between dances, it was simply natural to take up a goblet from one of the many servant-borne trays and sip from it. Still, if it were the wine causing this, she would have to be more careful and abstain more completely in the future.


But Duke Alden was right. While not always useful in the long run (usually anything but), a good scandal now and then did indeed add a measure of excitement to life which would otherwise be sadly absent. Not that a single dance would be that likely to cause a scandal anyway. So Lucy placed her hand once more in Duke Alden's still outstretched one. "Then let us indeed start one of our own," she said, a hint of her laughter behind the words as she allowed him to lead her to the dance floor.

Was that laughter? Or was she coughing and Alden didn't notice? Alden looked at her in slight alarm, allowing his surprise to show on his face. He had danced right into her trap, and he still had no idea. Well of course, he suspected some of her unusual kindness had to do with the fact that they were in a public place, but he also had this annoying tendency to believe in the best in everyone. Here he was, thinking that he had brought the best out in Lucy. He had even made her laugh, for gods sake! What more could he ask for at this moment? Relations with the duchies was something he needed to focus on more after all. For a long time, he had simply focused on peace within his duchy. That was until he had found a spy in his duchy, sent to take him down. It was that he had realized he had been the most naive.


Alden smiled as she continued to smile, and could have laughed. There was his answer. She was not manipulating him..she was merely tipsy. The wine was quite good, and Alden had enjoyed a glass too many, he believed. The sheen in his eyes told of the alcoholic consumption, though his movement was as lithe and graceful as it had always been. Wine loosened his tongue, not his body language. But he was still on his guard, though significantly less wary. He didn't expect her to take advantage of him or anything. He was completely trusting, a point, that when he looked back upon this meeting, he would regret. It was when the words came out of her mouth that he noticed how low his guard was to the floor.


But the lights, the laughter, it was infectious. Alden felt it taking over, pushing caution to the side, as if it was bothersome. He took her by the hand, before leading her to the dance floor, where people openly stared, before looking away to whisper. As he moved his hands into the dancing position, he was well aware of a man giving him the evil eye. He had been conceited. He had imagined many of the women had been envying Lucy - he was right, but not completely so - but indeed, the men were giving him looks as well. He could've laughed at his own stupidity.


"I've never felt like such a letdown before." he said jokingly, as they danced. "I fear that before the dance is over, one of these men will try and whisk you away into the night." See? That was what happened when Alden and wine mixed. It was not always pretty. His mouth seemed to move of its own accord, without his usual screening of his words. Oh no, he spoke without thinking when wine decided it was time to come out. Now was the perfect time for him to make a fool of himself, so of course, his brain shut down.


The dance was not a particularly quick one, so he could easily keep track of the dance, and speak. Though at this point, words were just going to pour out of his mouth.

As Duke Alden began to lead her to the dance floor, Lucy noticed the surprise in his eyes. She congratulated herself mentally on having successfully startled him, even though the action leading to that surprise had not been planned. But Lucy disregarded that fact...the outcome had worked out favorably for her, so why should she worry about the method leading to that outcome? At this point in their acquaintance, it was likely mainly chance which determined when each of them would be able to truly surprise the other, anyway. It had gone back and forth so many times in their last discussion that Lucy was still not sure who had come out on top, though she supposed they were probably just about even. While normally it would be a disappointment for Lucy to simply be even with somebody instead of winning outright, with Duke Alden she rather liked it this way. The lack of a clear victor, to Lucy, meant that the game was still going on.


But now Lucy began to observe Duke Alden more closely, as he took her by the hand and led her to the floor. There was something beyond mere surprise in his eyes. It took her only a moment to realize that it would seem that she was not the only one who had partaken too freely of the excellent Marcheford wine. This time it was Lucy's turn to be surprised, though she hid that surprise as well as she could; surely the Duke of Marcheford would be accustomed enough to his own duchy's wine to no longer be susceptible to its effects!


As they reached the dance floor, Lucy also noticed the rather large number of people staring at them. She was not at all surprised; she knew how lovely she herself looked, particularly tonight in the royal purple of Ashton, and Alden was a very attractive man as well in his white and gold. Even had they been simple courtiers, they would likely have attracted a large amount of attention by dancing together; and with them being a Duke and Duchess, that attention would easily be double what it would otherwise have been. But she was used to the attention, having grown up with it; and so she ignored their whispering audience to focus on the dance itself as the music began.


Lucy smiled, recognizing the slow, stately melody as one of her favorite dances; its steps ones of grace and beauty, rather than filled with the energetic leaps and whirls characterizing some of the other popular dances. Oh, she loved those too; but this one had always been her favorite. She supposed it was due at least in part to her mother's also having favored this dance, and therefore having spent more time teaching it when Lucy was a girl. But as they began dancing, Lucy's attention was drawn away from the dance itself, focusing instead on the skill of her partner. He was an excellent dancer, light and smooth on his feet, his movements nearly as graceful as Lucy's own. Her smile widened again without her realization, out of sheer delight.


Then Duke Alden began speaking again, and Lucy laughed softly at the joking self-deprecation in his voice. "You, a letdown? Surely Your Grace jests!" She knew he was; she could hear it in the tone of his voice. She decided that she quite liked his sense of humor, when it was not being used against her, of course. "And there is no need to fear any of those men; I assure you, I have no intention of being 'whisked away' anywhere, particularly away from a partner as skilled as yourself." She wondered why he would even have that concern in the first place, even if it was another jest. Was it merely the wine talking? And yet, it was said there was truth in wine; so if that were the case, what did that mean in this situation? But then she decided that Duke Alden simply did not wish to look a fool, as he surely would if his dancing partner were to leave before the dance were through.


Then she wondered why she had spoken aloud the opinion she had formed of Duke Alden's dancing. Yet, why should she not have done so? This was a ball, after all; compliments and flattery were very much the rule of the evening. She had certainly received enough of them already that evening, though not everyone she had spoken to or danced with had done so. The Duke of Harleston certainly had not; and Lucy did not believe Duke Alden the type to do so either. Then again, neither was Lucy herself, normally. But perhaps her compliment would lower his guard a bit, and she could seek out an advantage of some sort in the game they played. As long as she could avoid succumbing any further to the wine in her system...