No words were spoken between you two. What could be talked of except the horrendous past? Silence was preferable. You'd reluctantly accepted his invitation, answering his polite bow and offered hand with a curt, "Fine." You don't know why he asked, but it was better than causing a scene. You spend the first few minutes obstinately avoiding his gaze and barely maintaining the necessary waltzing posture of one hand in his and your other arm resting on his right. When you first glance at him, you see that he's looking at you, an odd sincerity in his eyes. Annoyingly, his embrace is comfortable, and you're not as upset as you should be about being so near to him. Your jaw tenses, and you resolve to escape him at the end of the dance. Just a few more minutes to suffer through. Unexpectedly, you sense him clearing his throat. "How can we make amends?" This time, you meet his gaze fiercely, not concealing your reprehension. "Make amends? I will not forgive you until my brother does, which will be difficult, seeing as he is dead." He flinches, readjusting his hold on you. An awkward pause ensues. You fiddle with the expensive beading on his jacket. Deliberating, he takes a deep breath, "I can prove I'm not responsible. New evidence has emerged." Now that is interesting. His latest false plea of innocence, you suppose. Nothing may have been finalized in the royal courts, but you know the truth. "Oh? And what will that mean for you? A renewal of our betrothal? I will not allow my father to do such a thing." The waltz has sped up. Oh fie, it's because the next song has begun. That abhorrent man distracted you. "I demand nothing," he says assertively between lulls in the steps, "other than that you hear my case, in full and fairly." His hand on your low back presses you closer--for the sake of the dance, of course. "And if I do, will you consent to leave me alone forever and for all eternity when I rule that you are nevertheless a manipulator and a murderer?" A weird sadness creeps into his eyes. He says nothing. "Fine," you concede flatly, grateful the dance has nearly ended. "Two o'clock tomorrow near the Dido fountain on the south side." His eyes flash determinedly, and he steps back from you to exchange the end-of-the-dance bows. "See you then, milady."

2 years ago

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