On this occasion, to match his betrothed, he'd worn something that tastefully complimented what she wore. Luckily she was simple in tastes, just like himself. Black trousers and black soft-soled boots matched his silver undershirt and, the only clothing article to depart from the 'black and silver' theme, a dark, wine-colored doublet with black embroidery. His half-mask, securely on his face, was the same dark amber as much of the drinks his family were famous for.

They'd each gone their separate ways after some time together, socializing in their different circles. Aoife, the outgoing little pixie that she was, went and visited several. Kit, slightly more conservative, made friendly, but didn't have many to visit with who he knew, though he offered dances to a few of the ladies present. It'd made following Aoife once she'd slipped away much easier then were he swarmed with socialites.

After their little get-together with Ewan, they had rejoined the crowd for a bit, but a few songs later he approached her, smiling playfully. He'd play this 'masked mystery man' thing up for all it was worth, despite her knowing full well exactly who he was and what he looked like.

"Why greetings, My Lady...a pleasant evening to you. I don't believe we've met." Blunt, but it got the point across. He was playing pretend, despite the obviousness of the situation.

"If I may, My Lady...you are exceedingly lovely, and I could only be honored beyond measure if you accept my humble request for a dance?" He smiled ruefully, half-bowing, his hand outstretched even as the orchestra played a slower song.

Her gown was lacking in ruffles and slashes, and yet it was elegant in its simplicity. The dark black fabric washed her out making her skin look pale, and accented the rich brown of her hair. The silver embroidery around the bodice and sleeves was tasteful and not overdone. Simple and elegant, and yet she could blend in with the shadows if the candlelight did not catch her embroidery too much. The black mask, edged and embroidered with more silver completed the ensemble, and she felt rather lovely in her interpretation of the night sky.


Kit had dressed to match her, and in her eyes, they made a stunning couple. When they arrived at the ball they had both gone their separate ways, she had mingled with the few friends she had made when she was at court, and he had… well she did not quite know. After her dance with Kian, and her talk with Ewan they had rejoined the press of bodies that made up the ball.


Years from now, if someone would ask her to describe the time she had at the coronation ball of King Ambrose I the first words that would probably spring to mind would be emotional. With all the ups and downs, she had been subjected to since her arrival it was no surprise that she was taking a break to spend a few moments on her own. Only a few songs later Kit approached her and she could see by the mischief sparkling in his eyes that he was up to no good. She had come to cherish that look in the weeks they had been living together.


“Tis quite the grand occasion my lord, I do hope you are enjoying it.” She smiled sweetly at him and curtsied gracefully, her eyes meeting his with a wicked gleam. “I would be honored to dance with you, good sir… and perhaps you may feel fit to grace me with the name of such an ardent admirer.”

"Indeed I am, My Lady, doubly so because I'm offered the chance to be in the presence of such a glowing individual as yourself, of course." He realized he sounded almost like that peacock-feathered upstart who was wandering the room, Mallard Michaels or some such name, but he was playing up his role. Unlike the other man, who he was quite sure was such a man at all times, Kit was merely acting the role for fun.

"And unfortunately, My Lady, a name you shall not be given, lest it shatter the purpose of the masquerade this eve. I would, however, be delighted to share a dance with you now." He grasped at her hand and pulled her onto the dance floor, his hands automatically taking their place. His right on her hip, the left cradling her hand. As the dance began he moved in time, and though he wasn't an atrocious dancer, he was a bit stiff in his movements, if only because he didn't dance much.

"So tell me," he began keeping up the charade, "What brings as striking a young woman as yourself to such an event? I would have imagined that any man lucky enough to land you would wish to keep you locked away for fear of men such as myself who have fallen under the spell of your entrancing beauty would be being tempted to steal you away...you never know the intentions of masked individuals, oftentimes they are quite the shady folk, and might wish to spirit you away...I know I certainly do." He was clearly hamming it up, but after the stark seriousness that the pair had encountered, he felt they both deserved a little bit of fun.

Grrrrr why does it keep changing on me? Please ignore.

His words made her smile widen, lighting up her face and bringing a glow to her warm brown eyes. In truth, she had never been subject to such blatant flattery. The normal comments he made warmed her, so even though she knew he was only playing a part, it still made her heart swell. When he took her hand and pulled her onto the floor she felt more solid, then she had all evening. As if his hand in hers grounded and strengthened her more then anything she had ever felt before.

The chance to laugh and joke around as they tended to do when they were home, allowed the tension she had not been able to completely release to wash out of her, leaving her feeling light. She had drunk very little since they arrived, so she knew it was not the affects of the wine, although the feeling was quite similar. It was odd how soon his house had become home to her, but it was not the land, or the businesses that made her feel that way, it was he. Simply his company and that light in his eyes that seemed to come more frequently when they were alone, that made her feel that way. It was a feeling she was coming to cherish, and one she hoped that she would never lose. His words from earlier rang through her head. He trusted her, and perhaps with that trust would bloom the love she craved so desperately.


As confused, as she had been about her feelings she was not capable of realizing that for her the seeds he had planted and nurtured were already taking hold in the fertile soil of her heart. However, it would not be long before she would not be able to deny the love she was beginning to feel.


“You never know the intentions of masked individuals, oftentimes they are quite the shady folk, and might wish to spirit you away...I know I certainly do."


“And where pray tell would you spirit me off to, my lord?” She answered him cheekily. “Spin me a tale full of wonder, and perhaps you will get this wish of yours, provided my fiancé does not catch wind of it.”

He saw the last of her tensions leave her body at last, and he truly felt at home once more as he saw her loose and relaxed in his embrace as the pair danced. Seeing her in such a state made the last vestiges of tension that he'd hidden rather well vanish out of his own body, and in that instance, it was as though the frustrating conversation with Ewan had never occurred. At least, not the bad parts. He cared for Aoife more then he would even admit to himself, so seeing her enjoying herself so thoroughly made it all worth it.

He honestly hadn't expected her to adapt to living with the Thornes as quickly as she had, and that she had so quickly taken on the role of family member with such competence made him feel all the more that she was destined to be at his side. It hadn't been long before her presence felt as natural as his own in that place, and as odd as it was to him--the man who had been incapable of looking at a woman without a sense of disgust after bedding her--he sometimes forgot that they were not yet married, though based on their previous conversations he figured it was pretty much an inevitability. More a question of when rather than if.

Her cheeky reply made him grin wider as they danced, and though his movements loosened some thanks to both adjusting to being on the dance floor and relaxing being with Aoife, his movements were still not necessarily top notch, though they were passable.

"Then your fiancé is perhaps too trusting a man if he lets a beauty like you out and about, only for you to let yourself be spirited away by strangers...but that is neither here nor there. As to the tale..." He hummed quietly for a moment before speaking up again, his grin still on his face. They were in the middle of a crowd, but they might as well have been the only two people in the world for all the others registered to Kit.

"I have this flying carriage, you see. With great, huge wings like a monstrous bird. I would take you aboard, and with it I would fly you away to my floating castle. This castle, built upon the clouds, is a towering and majestic location, which shines and gleams perfectly as we approach. Once we've set down in the courtyard, I'd take you on a tour--the shortened version, since it would take too long to show you all one hundred twenty rooms in the castle--but the last stop would be the Spire Peak. You see, at the very top of one of the towers is a huge, lavish room decorated with furs and silks galore, along with some of the richest wooden furniture one could ever see, and in the center of it all, of course, is a massive hearth to keep the room quite cozy. Windows on all sides show the magnificent view from so high up, where you can see the entire country from peering out your windows...a room just for you, My Lady."

The outlandish and insane fiction sounded good out loud, at least, and so he hoped it sounded half as romantic and whimsical as it had seemed in his head when he'd imagined it. At the very least he'd fulfilled her request, no matter how silly it might all sound now.

"So, has My Lady been properly swept off her feet by such a fanciful tale?"

“My fiancé is a man who knows me, and knows that not any stranger would be able to spirit me away.” She said with a raise of her brow as her voice dropped its register again. “He knows my affection is not easily won, but if you are willing to try your luck, Milord, then by all means, continue.”


Kit began to speak, and she smiled. She had always been affected by his voice, more now then when they had first met, she had to admit. Perhaps it was that she had heard his voice call out her name in passion, and groan when… well it was needless to say, that it was certainly something that made her mind and body take notice.


Aoife giggled as he wove his fantastical tale. She could even picture it as she closed her eyes, trusting him to guide her in the dance without letting her falter. A part of her truly wished that the carriage was real, and it could carry them off somewhere, anywhere where they could be alone. She had never been fond of large groups of people as it was. The room he described would be a perfect place for her to relax. She could imagine sitting there, playing her dulcimer and singing as she gazed out over the country below her.


He tried so hard to make her happy, to make things comfortable for her and more then anything else that made her love him. The realization nearly made her stumble, making her skip a beat of the dance. Her eyes were wide as she opened them again and looked into his. She was not ready for this… not yet, it was far too much to take after everything else. However, it seemed as though her heart was far more ready then she had thought she was. For a brief moment, her soul was visible in her eyes, laid completely bare for him, or anyone to see, before she tried to pull it all back in, not knowing if she completely succeeded.


"So, has My Lady been properly swept off her feet by such a fanciful tale?"


“If you only knew…” She whispered quietly before she took a deep breath and smiled at him. She continued in her normal tone, trying to get back the joking nature of their banter. “Your story has bewitched me, my lord. I can honestly say I have never heard anything like it, when exactly do we leave for this magical place?”