fil de la mer

Ch. 2

One step back.

"You dance gracefully," he said, his voice low and sincere. "And yet, there is something... haunted about you."

Neuvillette swallowed hard, his eyes darting to the side. "I am... merely a man," he replied, the lie tasting bitter. The duke's gaze was unyielding, and he felt the need to confess, to lay bare the truth that had been buried for so long.

But fear held him in its icy grip.

"A man with secrets, hm? Alright, Let me guess..." Wriothesley said, his tone gentle but insistent. Then, "Nah, nevermind. Fear not, Neuvillette. Tonight, you are safe." He offered a reassuring smile, and for a brief moment, the stranger felt a flicker of hope.

Neuvillette searched the duke's eyes, looking for any hint of deceit or mockery.

Instead, he found only kindness and genuine interest. He took a deep breath and leaned in, their faces now a mere whisper apart. "I look forward to it," he murmured, the words feeling like a confession.

The two men made their way through the guests once again, their movements as elegant as the steps of the dance they had just concluded. The Duke's grip was confident and Neuvillette found comfort in the solidness of it, like the reassurance of an old acquaintance.

As they approached the balcony, the cool night air kissed their faces, a welcome respite from the warmth of the hall.

The balcony offered a panoramic view of the moonlit gardens, the silvery light casting a serene glow over the manicured hedges and stone statues. The scent of blooming roses wafted up from below, mingling with the faint aroma of pipe tobacco from the lingering partygoers.

The Duke leaned against the balustrade, his eyes searching the horizon as if contemplating something of great importance.

Neuvillette took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the fragrant air.

The Duke turned to him, a knowing smile playing on his lips. His gaze was unwavering, piercing through the shadows that danced across Neuvillette's sharp features.

The Duke's gaze grew more intense. "I am intrigued by you, Monsieur Neuvillette," he said, his voice low and intimate. "You carry yourself with a confidence that belies your look, and yet there's something...vulnerable about you. It's quite alluring."

Neuvillette felt his cheeks warm, his pulse racing. He had never been the subject of such undivided attention from a man of the Duke's stature before. He swallowed hard, trying to find the right words to respond.

"Your kind words do me an injustice, Your Grace," Neuvillette said, his voice a tapestry of modesty and curiosity. "I am but a simple man, drawn to the beauty of this evening's festivities."

The Duke leaned closer, the warmth of his breath caressing Neuvillette's ear. "Do not play coy with me," he murmured. "I've seen the way you've observed the room, the way your eyes have searched for...something. Tell me, what is it that you seek?"

Neuvillette's thoughts raced.

He had indeed been seeking something, though he wasn't quite sure what it was. The Duke's nearness was intoxicating, his scent a heady mix of mint and leather that filled his senses.

He licked his lips, trying to form a coherent reply.

"Perhaps," Neuvillette replied, his eyes meeting Wriothesley's with a newfound boldness. "I seek a connection, a spark amidst the predictable tapestry of courtly life."

The Duke's gaze searched his, as if looking for a deeper truth. He took a step back, giving Neuvillette space, yet keeping their conversation as private as the moonlit balcony allowed. "And what do you think you might find here, on this balcony of mine?"