10
Delilah fidgeted with her lace sleeve tying to remain calm. It would do her no favours to start fluttering the way the butterfly embedded in her chest wanted to do.
Isabella and Mary were furiously immersed in conversation looking equally anxious.
"Ladies may I introduce Signors Adriano and Agapito Rossi. Their father was my esteemed dance master and I know for a fact his sons take after him in the talent," Said the Prince as he returned.
"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," Delilah initiated the conversation after realizing her friends were staring doe eyed at the new arrivals. In front of her were two sharply dressed gentlemen. They were dark haired with deep olive eyes. It was their friendly smiles that caught her attention the most.
"Thank you, for your hospitality," One of the two brothers spoke, bowing lowly and grasping Delilah's gloved hand, "I am sorry to have doubted you, Damian; I believe I have lost our bet. Women of our kingdom do not hold a candle to the lovely beauties that reside in yours."
Delilah smiled at the flattery. The charming men in front of her neither worried nor impressed her. Men like them smiled and made promises because it was a part of their nature to woo anything that breathed. Her own brother was considered a great charmer in their town. He rarely failed to gain attention from any female, but Delilah knew he spent hours in front of the mirror practicing so she could never take anyone like that seriously.
"You are kind with your words," She uttered humbly.
"It would be a kindness if it were a lie."
"Well, I would be grateful if you could extend your kindness to my good friends," Delilah said and continued to introduce her friends to the two brothers.
"While I loathe interrupting you two from spreading the joy of kindness to all and sundry I still think it imperative to move on to what I prepared for our small party today," The Prince interrupted the giggling from the other two girls in his usual abrupt fashion.
"Always the attention grabber, eh, Damian?" The brother on Delilah's right spoke, lightly taunting.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Damian said, smirking. Their camaraderie was palpable to the three ladies who eyed their companions eagerly.
"Cotillions have grown steadily out of fashion in the last few years," One dark haired brother said to the small group almost as if he was giving a lecture.
"The nobility find it a little too... rambunctious for their tastes," The other brother added.
"So we decided to re-ignite the spirit of what our country folk call a real dance," The red cloaked one concluded.
"So which of you ladies want to present a practice run with us," One brother smiled broadly with his hand outstretched. Isabella latched onto it without hesitation. Mary looked put off by her own timidity but she soon found herself coaxed into partnering the other brother.
"Would you care to join them," A voice interrupted her silent observation. Delilah's grin fell a few notches when she realized who her remaining companion was.
"I would much prefer to watch the performance," Delilah stated calmly. He was standing much to close for her comfort and she fought the urge to slide away. It would be too obvious and very rude.
"I don't bite if that is your worry," The Prince stated blandly. He looked towards the couples in all seriousness. Delilah hoped the roll of her eyes was not too obvious. She wondered if Cecilia and the prince were a match made in heaven since they both seemed to have a penchant for being completely silly.
"I should hope not," Delilah said imitating his nonchalant tone.
"Not unless I am prompted to," Damian muttered to himself with a sly grin that was not meant for public viewing.
After giving the man a disturbed look Delilah moved away to a breathable distance. She surely hoped he kept his scandalous remarks to himself because crown prince or not young women everywhere would beat him to a pulp if they had the misfortune of hearing him.
The sounds of a lone violin being brought to life echoed by an orchestra hidden in one corner of the large hall. It seemed to have appeared in the few minutes after the young men had arrived and was already set down to perform. She saw one of the brothers gesture for the orchestra to commence and with deep bows to their partners they began the dance.
Delilah silently admired the dancing couples' forms and was secretly pleased how wonderfully her companions held up to seasoned professionals. Isabella was confident even with her short stature and if Mary was having trouble with her footing her competent partners was careful to guide her through smoothing it over.
"They are magnificent," Delilah breathed forgetting who her company was.
"I am glad you appreciate it; you could still join them, you know. This dance can easily accommodate another pair," Damian offered again hoping the girl would cease to be troublesome.
Delilah looked down at her shoes feeling conscious again. She knew deviating from her resolve to avoid any form of public dancing would be a grave mistake. And it did not help to know her potential dance partner would the man which sorely hoped to avoid. And yet her palms itched seeing the gay performance.
"I am only a chaperon. Dancing was never in my duties. I would rather wait for my charge to arrive so you could give her such an honour," Delilah replied softly coming back to her senses. There was no need for her to dance.
"There is no one here, not even your charge. I feel rather poorly being the odd one out when it is so clear the number of partners are evenly matched," Damian tried to coax her.
"I apologize but I doubt you shall want for a partner after the evening truly begins," Delilah kept her voice as steady as possible
"Who said the evening has not begun now; it is sun down and the dancing has begun," Damian replied back evenly, "One dance shouldn't hurt you or are you just scared?"
Delilah's eyes met blue determined ones. She had a vision of a moment where she either ran away once again or decked the man but neither came to be and Delilah continued to look into the man's eyes hoping she could prove him wrong.
"No, I am not scared, I am- " But she was abruptly cut off. The Prince suddenly took hold of her hand and brought her closer to the dancers.
"Then we shall dance," The Prince said, looking far too pleased with himself, "Shove over boys, it's time to compete with a true master."
Before she could steady herself on her feet she was standing in the line of dancers, one hand locked in the Prince's and another in one of the brothers. She twirled, bowed, skipped and exchanged partners. She knew everyone surrounding her was sniggering at her horrified expression.
"He's a spoilt brat," The red cloaked brother spoke to her, shaking his head, eyes full of mirth. She bowed gratefully, pleased someone else knew of her predicament.
"Truly, he always has his way," The blue cloaked one agreed with his brother. He managed to slip in a kiss on her gloved hand as they bowed to each other. She finally rounded back to the middle brother and then back to the Prince.
"The Rossi brothers are a friendly lot," The Prince muttered in her ear as he twirled her.
"Very much so," Delilah was firm as she skipped and then bow. She pulled her hand back feeling the pinch of pain from the thorn cut she had received earlier. The other two men were much gentler with her hands.
Delilah exchanged partners four more times before the notes form the orchestra reached a crescendo and the music came to a quivery halt. Delilah breathed harshly feeling hot from the sudden exertion. This particular cotillion was a cheery number and its pace had been suitably fast.
"Bravo, bravo, what a splendidly lively number. Never thought I'd live to see the day when such a merry dance would be performed in our circles again," A white haired, man with fine lines crinkling around his eyes clapped and to Delilah's horror there was a substantial crowd standing behind him looking equally entertained. Delilah was busy fuming at the Prince to even notice the crowd gathering in the higher portions of the room. This particular ballroom was built with a dance floor two steps lower than usual so being in the centre meant that they could be observed from the balconies completely unnoticed.
"Oh, what a crowd we attracted," Isabella was amazed and she bowed still feeling heightened from the dancing.
"I think I would rather prefer to not be observed as such," Delilah said to her friends.
"I fully agree," Mary gripped onto Delilah's arm painfully. She looked around nervously.
"You did wonderfully, Mary, I am sure your mother will be pleased to hear of this," Delilah tried to be soothing.
"Lord Ether, I am glad you enjoyed our performance as much as we did," The Prince said, smiling winningly.
"Well, won't you ladies and gentlemen take a bow, we must give credit where it is due," Another Lord fronting a balcony from their left urged.
Delilah felt herself being led to the centre once again and she bowed along with her peers. The man next to her gave a subtle nod instead, suiting a man of his stature. After all, a Crown Prince did not bow at people.
"Thank you, for agreeing to be my partner for tonight," The man grinned at her congenially as if nothing had happened.
"The pleasure was all mine," Delilah bit out and bowed. She grimaced at him in what should have been a smile but decided she could not act the congenial twit any further and walked out with her friends, now firmly attached to her sides.
"I cannot believe I actually did this," Mary spoke haltingly, "I know I would have floundered if I had noticed the crowd forming."
"I too missed when the people started arriving as well," Delilah said. She looked at the time and realized how quickly the hour had passed. It was already a quarter after the time of arrival. Of course not fashionably late but enough to warrant the crowd of people gathered.
"Do you see Cecilia anywhere?" Delilah peered around hoping to catch a glimpse of the red head.
"I do not believe she has arrived here. She would have been at our side as soon as we finished," Isabella guessed.
"I think it's time I resumed my duties as a chaperon and deal with my tardy charge," Delilah spoke firmly, "And that means no more dancing."
Her friends groaned at the announcement.
------------
Delilah sat in one corner of the room at a half empty round table. In a complete departure from usual the long table had been removed and various smaller tables had been arranged with no places set out formally. Usually the people closest to the head of the table were the most preferred by the Royal family. Delilah's own rise in popularity during the last ball stemmed from how close she had been seated to the Queen. In this circular format there was no hide nor hair of such politics though people rushed to be seated with the most prominent members of society. Delilah unfortunately could not obtain seats nearer the centre where some people she wanted Cecilia to meet sat. This was partially due to her own accommodating nature and partially because of Cecilia's hair tantrums.
When Delilah went back to her rooms she found Cecilia troubled and the maid looking like she was ready to cry her heart out. After another round of hair potions and a new dress, Cecilia had finally consented to show her face to the general public.
By the time they came back to the Ball room the dances before dinner were ending and people were accompanying each other to the dining room connected to the Ball room. They were already late for better tables so they stuck to the ones on the outer rims.
"If you could have saved us some time by not ruining your hair with those useless oils," Delilah grumbled to herself.
"But Prudence said-" Cecilia protested but Delilah cut her off.
"What Prudence Gifford says should never be repeated in my presence. The girl has more hair potions in her head than common sense."
Cecilia nodded morosely. She eyed the table across from them where not only the Gifford sisters but the rest of her friends were seated. Even though they had tried they had not been able to save them a seat.
"I just wish my hair was sleeker," Cecilia grumbled looking at her appearance in her spoon.
"One more comment about your hair and I shall cut it off in the middle of the night," Delilah replied sourly. Her bad mood was taking a turn for the worse.
"I can't help it. There are so many handsome looking women in this Ball. How shall I ever compete?"
"Well, I do wonder what your depth of despair would have been if you looked like me," Delilah gave a short laugh.
"But you are so beautiful! I just wish you wouldn't tie your hair so severely but...," Cecilia trailed off trying to think of something complimentary to say.
"Honestly, if I cared less about what the world thought I would let my hair completely loose. But I still could never be one tenth of what you are with your looks. I am content to be a plain Jane; suits my role of chaperon perfectly."
Cecilia rolled her eyes, "You repeat that word as if it signified you are some great religious saint. You are merely my excuse to attend the Royal Ball. If I were you I would be enjoying this Ball and thinking of ways to snag the most eligible bachelor in the room."
"My dear, I already have set my eyes on the most handsomest and richest of men in this Ball but only for you," Delilah teased. Cecilia just shook her head.
Delilah spied an ornamental flower arrangement from the corner of her eye and excused herself to observe it. In the middle was a large water bowl with floating rocks and plant. Around the bowl edges were vines and grasses. Delilah looked at the water plants carefully but she was distracted by her own image. She looked as plain and dowdy as she had envisioned herself to be. Her hair was as severe as Cecilia had complained and the colour she was wearing made her look sickly. She was about to turn away, condemning her foolish thoughts when she caught sight of another reflection besides her.
She was startled but not obviously so. She quickly turned to face familiar blue eyes.
"I promise I am not following you around deliberately," The Prince said trying to look innocent and disarming. Delilah bowed and asked for leave trying to maintain the distance of formality between them.
"No, no, wait," Damian hurriedly murmured and caught her sore hand. Delilah's usually guarded expression revealed her pain.
"So, it still hurts," Damian spoke remorsefully letting her hand go.
Delilah remained quiet, not sure of what to say. She felt it rude to complain but thought it better not to lie. She was also aware of the looks being thrown at them and she wanted to leave quickly before she could be scrutinised any further.
"With the speed you left the dancing floor, I knew I seemed to have offended you again. I am not well versed with making apologies especially when I don't know why but I shall be grateful if you could accept my humble apology," The Prince spoke looking a tad awkward.
Delilah breathed deeply.
"I know, you might not for-" Damian tried to clarify.
"I accept your apology," Delilah spoke abruptly before she could lose her nerve.
"You do?" Damian scratched his cheek not expecting her to concede without a fight.
Delilah nodded looking down at her shoes as she was used to doing. She had thought about this most of the night. She felt the bitterness was going to erode her from the inside if she did not forgive and forget. It seemed like her stay was going to be full of the Prince's presence and she did not wish for herself to buckle back into her old shell. She did not want to fear his presence anymore and if forgiving him was the way then it would be path she took.
"You are not jesting then, especially not about-" Damian tried to catch her eyes but hers were resolutely fixed on the floor.
"Do I look like I am jesting?" Delilah asked plainly, still not looking up, "Your highness."
"Not particularly," Damian said. He laughed a little. "So this means we begin a new chapter?"
"As long as you don't cull innocent roses and imbed their thorns in my hands," Delilah said dryly as she looked up finally.
"Was that a joke or a critical examination of my being?"
Delilah fought the urge to roll her eyes.
