The evening at Turner Gate had come to a quiet close for many, but at the Verin Mansion, the night was only beginning.
Music swelled beneath chandeliers, their light scattering across polished marble as guests filled the ballroom. The main couple had opened the dance, and the room already pulsed with soft movement and cheerful voices.
A few minutes earlier, Matthew, halfway through his stride toward Evelyne, stopped short. For once in his life, words, charm, and instinct all abandoned him.
He turned to Thomas, desperate. "Nothing, there's nothing in my arsenal. Which one do I even use for this?"
Thomas gave a long-suffering sigh, but before he could reply, the ballroom erupted as the floor officially opened for dancing.
Matthew straightened, a spark of determination returning.
"I'll charm her with my dance," he announced, as if it were a brilliant military strategy.
Thomas lifted a brow. "…Honestly? That's the least dangerous idea you've had tonight."
Matthew nodded once, solemn and dramatic.
"Never thought, what Miss floral said, was true. A well-timed dance has rescued more evenings than diplomacy ever could." he murmured.
"I am not surprised, only you would turn anything into a way to get to a woman. I bet you, you even tried it with her?" Thomas remarked.
Matthew took a breath. He resumed his stride. Leaving Thomas to his guesses without a reply.
Thomas followed reluctantly, fully aware of the disaster's potential, but still eager, in his own way, to witness whatever chaos Matthew was about to spark.
----
Across the hall, Evelyne stood beside a table laden with delicacies, servants weaving around her as they delivered plates to guests.
Beside her, Isabel talked endlessly, oblivious to the boredom written clearly on Evelyne's face.
"And that over there is the Fletcher family," Isabel said, gesturing with her fork. "I heard that their—"
A crisp voice cut cleanly through her chatter.
"Good evening, ladies."
Matthew bowed slightly, hand extended toward Evelyne. "May I have this dance?"
Isabel froze mid-sentence, her stare sharp and offended at the interruption.
Before she could reject him herself, Lucas stepped forward to perform his duty as wingman, offering Isabel a dance in the same breath.
She saw through the tactic instantly.
And yet, she opened her mouth to refuse.
But Evelyne spoke first.