Deatrice was taken aback. Why would someone ask her for a dance, right in the middle of her current situation?
“I would gladly oblige. But,” she looked him up and down, “you’ll risk getting your name sullied by being associated with me.”
“Whatever the rumors might be, it’s still better than being punished for defying an order.”
“An order?”
“Yes.” He looked in a particular direction and said, “Over there.”
At the end of his gaze was Lucius, looking like he was having a pleasant conversation with the other officers.
“He sent you here?” she clarified.
“Yes, to dance with you.”
Contemplating over his words, Deatrice carefully put her hand on his and let the man lead her to the dance floor.
She was suddenly reminded of that day when Elwood had a certain request from his sister, which resulted in him beseeching Lucius’ assistance to ask Charlie for a dance.
When Elwood had said:
“Please save my sister. This is her fourth time dancing with Wick. She must’ve decided to end her social life here.”
Who would’ve known that Lucius would reply to him with a:
She was currently experiencing feelings of low-esteem because of his uncaring words, but they immediately ceased when the man she danced with handed her a small note.
Deatrice frowned and tried to discard the note, but the man panicked and swiftly revealed to her that the note was from Lucius, stating that his objective from the beginning was to pass on this note to her.
He had no intention of making fun of or being rude to Deatrice.
Then, he could’ve just given me the note right from the very start!
How inefficient.
Vexed, Deatrice opened the note. Written there was an order telling her to go to the third terrace from the east.
“He must be enjoying this…” Deatrice suddenly muttered.
From the dress code, to a secret note, and a little sneaky agent delivered it—he must be feeling very entertained seeing her being toyed around by him.
She pouted her lips in defiance, but she knew that she had no choice but to move according to Lucius’ will.
Because deep down, Deatrice knew that she still owed him something.
***
As Lucius had said, she went to the third terrace from the east, but no one was there yet. Deatrice leaned against the railings, thinking that she must’ve simply arrived first.
Actually, she preferred it this way. She felt much better without his presence.
Standing outside in an open area, the cool night air seemed to slowly disperse her depressive mood and feelings of pent-up frustrations by carrying it away with its gentle breeze.
She pretended to be alright, but she had many things weighing down on her mind.
She recalled the times when society had meant everything to her—how much she relished being in the company of other people, hearing their stories, the wonder she felt when every individual she met had differing personalities from the other, the luxurious halls, and the extravagant clothing she wore…
But after meeting Lucius, something changed inside of her, like a small flame of rebellion began to ignite within her.
Before all of that, Deatrice had always been obedient to the laws of society and did her best to mingle with others. But today, it was clear that the society had turned against her.
It certainly was not a good feeling, realizing that the things she had previously cherished and had been part of her daily life, had now completely isolated her.
“Did I make you wait for a long time?” a soft voice shook her from her thoughts.
Lucius sauntered through the arching door frame of the terrace.
Deatrice gazed up at the night sky with her elbows resting on the railings and answered, “No, not really. I actually enjoyed my time without your presence.”
Lucius laughed at her response.
“Well, I’m glad that you didn’t wait that long. However…” Lucius took off his jacket and draped it over the back of a small chair. His sleeves weren’t cuffed, revealing his forearms. “Hearing you say that you like being alone isn’t good. Not when the person you’ll soon marry is trying to accompany you.”
He joked playfully. But Deatrice only put some stray hairs behind her ear and started questioning him.
“So, what should we do now?”
“Hm?”
“You told me to dress for a funeral.” she uttered dryly, “Weren’t you planning on doing something big?”
“Plan?”
“Yes, the plan for us to fall in love again…?”
When she elaborated her interpretation of the situation to him based on his whimsical actions, the corners of Lucius’ lips went up.
“Do we even need a plan for this?” He chuckled amusedly, “Us being here in this terrace together, wouldn’t rumours fly off the roof then? Let the gossip-mongers do their job.”
Her eyebrows furrowed at his calm reply. She had thought of that too, but if things were really as simple as that, why the need for her to dress so grimly?
If there was truly no particular reason behind it, she would just shrug it off as his petty attempts of wanting to annoy her.
When Lucius saw her expression, he decided to assure her.
“Don’t misunderstand. I told you to dress like that for your own good. If you had come here, dressed in fancy clothes, people might’ve assumed that you came here to seduce me.”
“What?”
She narrowed her eyes.
“You’re in that unique situation where everyone slanders you even when you’re doing nothing.” he shrugged his shoulders. “I want to make use of that to start the rumors of our rekindled love. I don’t want people to view us as simply using each for the sake of benefits. That way, we won’t be criticized when the emperor grants me a title.”
At the end of his little speech, he glanced at her ring finger.