Dark Halls, Stone Walls

Chapter Nineteen

I sat back in the parlor chair and allowed my back to sink into the soft backing. Well, it was a parlor chair, but it did just as well in the massive bedroom it looked upon. Like the soft chair I enjoyed, the square rug underneath the full-sized dark oaken bed and curtains to a blocked in window were all a delicate golden spiderweb pattern. The bed quilt was a solid white with a golden border around the edges. The border had embroidered white leaves in it, allowing it to be well-decorated yet inviting. The room itself had stone walls and floor, just as everywhere else, but they were polished and clean compared to my little jail cell. Just as every other room I've encountered, the dressers and so forth matched the bed in both color and simplicity in design.

A night of dancing, I was sure, would sound lovely on paper but exhausting in reality. Of course I knew the rules of the ballroom from The Ultimate Manners Manual, Volume One, but all the little rules on top of the bigger social etiquette rules were tiring to remember to say the least.

Yet, when I allowed myself to not think and to just trust my body and mind, I somehow pull through. What also eased my mind was to review the first volume—not the second—so that I knew I had done well enough for the evening.

The first volume was dedicated to the general etiquette of nobles that have yet to introduce themselves or whom are friendly, and covers many social events and the nuances of how to conduct yourself exhaustively—One of the biggest breaches of etiquette for ballroom dancing was to dance twice with the same partner consecutively, regardless of one's relationship. This, however, had one condition, and that was when there was a longer song to dance to, enough that it would take up the time of two waltzes.

That's why I couldn't dance with my knight twice in a row, even if he was loathe to let me go—even if this is all in my head, no, especially because it is in my mind, breaking this rule might have caused a ruckus that I would have not known how to deal with.

Even if the chaos is my own mind's making, parts of my mind remained unknown and I wasn't sure if I was prepared for a flurry of possibly nasty surprises.

I glanced around the room. For once, there were candles illuminating the room. Not just one or two, either. It would have felt overly luxurious to that Prince, no doubt, but I for one was pleased that I didn't have to squint everywhere just to get by.

I sighed.

"My lady?" Laura, or rather, a rendition of her, piped up cheerfully. The difference was that her ankle-length maid uniform was visible in front of me. "I have more tea if you'd like."

I smiled. "No, thank you. I'm still enjoying this one."

"Of course, please let me know if you need anything." Her dress fluttered away and off to the side, attentive and ever polite.

I looked down at my maple and blackberry tea. The smell was akin to honey and reminiscent of summer fields one might look upon from a gazebo, while being cradled in warm, loving arms in a rocking chair.

Needless to say, it was the most comforted I felt in weeks.

The chair was awfully comfortable, so I bade Laura to come near so that I could ask her a few questions.

"Who is this Viscount Harlow I keep on hearing about?"

Her dress remained still. Still enough to be in a picture.

Figured as much. Direct questions didn't get me anywhere in real life without a coded answer, I suppose it must be similar in here. "You see," I kept my voice smooth as caramel. "All the ladies kept on talking about him, and I just had to know which one they keep on speaking of so fondly of?"