Flight of Frost and Aurora

Chapter 39

As Vagatha and Anthony concluded their dance, the atmosphere in the room transformed, filled with laughter and the soft strains of music. Couples began to partner up, and soon several young men approached Charlotte, eager to sweep the lovely lady off her feet. With each invitation, Charlotte felt a flutter of excitement mingled with a wave of anxiety.

"May I have this dance, my lady?" one young man asked, puffing out his chest. "I assure you, no one dances quite like I do. You'll remember this moment for the rest of your life!"

Charlotte smiled nervously, hoping she could match his confidence. As they began to dance, she quickly felt increasingly awkward. The young man spun her around with flair, but her footing faltered, and she stumbled slightly, catching herself just in time.

"Careful there! You nearly stepped on my toes," he said with a laugh, his tone light but his eyes betraying a hint of annoyance. "You'll want to watch your step if you're going to dance with someone like me."

Charlotte's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I'm sorry! I'll do my best," she replied, trying to focus on the rhythm of the music.

As that dance concluded, another young man stepped forward, his bravado even more pronounced. "Hello, my name is Ivan. I have an excellent pedigree in several sheepskins," he boasted, swirling her into the next dance. "My other qualities include horsemanship, sportsmanship, and superior dancing."

"Is that so?" Charlotte asked, feeling increasingly uncomfortable.

The more Ivan talked about himself, the more she felt herself tripping over her own feet. With each spin, her confidence waned, and when he pointed out how graceful he was compared to her, she couldn't help but feel disheartened.

From a distance, Alastor watched the scene unfold, a sour knot of jealousy forming in his stomach. He tried to rationalize his feelings, reminding himself that Charlotte was a charming girl, and it was only natural for other men to want to get to know her. But the sight of her laughing with those boastful suitors—men who seemed more interested in bragging than truly enjoying the moment—stung more than he expected.

"You're being ridiculous," he muttered to himself. "You're a gentleman; you should control yourself. It's just a dance." But deep down, he felt an urge to protect her, to show her that she deserved more than to be a trophy for these self-important young men.

"Did I ever tell you about my exploits with the 35th horse brigade at the Battle of Tompkins Bay?" her current partner bragged.

"You couldn't have; we only just met," Charlotte replied.

"There was never a battle of Tompkins Bay," Alastor muttered under his breath. "There isn't even a Tompkins Bay."

"We were absolutely surrounded, you know," the man continued. "On all sides by these Masai warriors."

"Masai warriors?" Alastor facepalmed. "Okay, this has gone on far enough."

"There's a cannon to the left of me, ready to fire. I only had seconds to act," the man persisted. "That's when I—"

"Excuse me?" Alastor interjected, tapping the man's shoulder and extending a hand to Charlotte. "Mind if I cut in?"

The young man turned, surprise flickering across his face at the interruption. "Who are you?" he asked, a hint of defensiveness in his tone.

"Someone who would rather sing the praises of this charming belle than brag about myself," he replied coolly, his gaze fixed on Charlotte. "And I believe it's my turn to dance with her."

Charlotte's eyes widened, relief washing over her as she stepped away from Ivan's grasp and took Alastor's hand. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice filled with gratitude.