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“I think you’ve had enough wine for one evening,” she said finally, her voice cool. “Perhaps you should retire before your imagination runs away with you.”

Leopold laughed, raising his glass in mock surrender. “As you wish, dear sister. I am just telling you what is obvious. You will realize it on your own in due time.”

Violet rolled her eyes, as Leopold walked away, leaving her to process his words. Her gaze drifted across the room, landing on Nicholas once more. He was deep in conversation with another guest, his expression composed but his posture relaxed.

In love?

No. It was mere admiration if anything. She would not allow herself to feel anything different.

The ball was a resounding success by all appearances. Nicholas observed it all from his vantage point near the edge of the room, a glass of wine in his hand.

She had done as well as any duchess. And she looked the part. His gaze kept drifting to her. She wore a gown of deep green that hugged her figure just enough to leave an impression without scandalizing the room.

Nicholas’ fingers tightened around the glass in his hand. He told himself he was merely observing, ensuring that the guests treated her with the respect she deserved. That was his duty as her husband. But the truth of the matter was far less simple. He had been watching her all night, drawn to her.

He shifted his weight, setting his glass down on a nearby table. Perhaps he could justify it. The guests expected them to dance at least once tonight; it was their first official event as a couple. To refuse would invite questions. Yes, that was reason enough, wasn’t it?

Still, he hesitated. I have to maintain my distance.

Nicholas exhaled sharply, brushing a hand over his jaw. Damn it.

Before he could overthink further, he moved forward and found his way towards her.

Violet noticed him before he reached her. She turned slightly, smiling as he came into view.

“Nicholas,” she greeted.

“Dance with me,” he said simply before he could talk himself out of it. It wasn’t a request so much as a statement though there was a flicker of vulnerability in his gaze.

She nodded, placing her hand into his as he led them to the dance floor. Nicholas’ hand rested firmly at her waist, while her smaller hand lay delicately in his.

They were too close for comfort. But for a moment, he allowed himself not to care as his grip on her waist tightened.

“You’ve become quite adept at commanding a room,” Nicholas said. “All eyes seem to be on you.”

“I suppose I’ve learnt it from the best,” she blushed.

“Well, then you must be an excellent student,” he nodded. “Because you make it seem quite effortless.”

Her cheeks flushed at the compliment, but she quickly looked away. “My friends would laugh to hear such praise. We’ve always seen ourselves as wallflowers, always on the edges of these grand events.”

“I’m sure they would be proud of you,” he noted. She had shown remarkable progress, and that alone warranted praise.

“Yes, well. I suppose they would,” she admitted, smiling now. “I have to say that I am quite happy with how this evening turned out as well. If you had told me a year ago that I would be comfortable interacting with so many people, I would not have believed you.”

“Charm is not learned, Violet,” he raised an eyebrow. “I am sure that you were not that much of a wallflower even back then.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Violet replied with a laugh, “There were times when my friends and I would go to ridiculous lengths to avoid even the smallest interactions at balls.”

He waited for her to go on, suddenly very interested in knowing what she had been like before he met her.

“There was one particular ball when Isadora, Daphne, and I decided that mingling was absolutely out of the question. So, we found ourselves an unoccupied corner near the back of the ballroom,” she admitted, shaking her head.

“We spent nearly half an hour whispering and giggling amongst ourselves until one of the hosts found us. It was absolutely mortifying. They tried to lead us back into the crowd, and poor Isadora tripped over her gown in the process.”

Nicholas couldn’t contain his laughter. “Well, look at you now.”

“Yes,” she met his gaze. For a moment, the world seemed to stop. “You know, this evening has reminded me of something I’d almost forgotten.”

“And what might that be?”

For some strange reason, his thoughts lingered back to what she had told him about Lord Kembert. Was he what she had forgotten about? If that was the case, he found himself wishing that it was left forgotten.

“A vow I made long ago—with my friends, Isadora and Daphne. We were younger then, of course. But…” She hesitated, her steps faltering for the briefest of moments before she resumed the rhythm of the dance. “Well, I remember that it felt quite important to us back then.”

Nicholas felt his curiosity pique immediately, but he refrained himself from asking what it was. If she wanted him to know, she would tell him.

“I suppose it’s a bit silly now,” she said, laughing nervously.

“You can tell me.” It took all he had to keep his voice from sounding too curious.

“I am afraid you will judge me.”

Nicholas’ grip on her waist tightened subtly. “Your admission is safe with me.”

She was quiet for a moment. “We promised each other that we would find our Prince Charmings. And that we would never settle anything less. That we would have lives filled with love, not just obligation.”

“Oh.”

Nicholas’s chest tightened at her words, an unfamiliar ache settling there.

“Yes, well, to be fair—it seemed quite simple back?—”

He cut her off, “Do you still believe in that vow?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted after a pause. “I think part of me still does, even if the world has proven to be… less accommodating to such dreams.”

Nicholas could not help but feel guilt at her admission. He had never believed in such ideals—fairy tales were luxuries that life had not afforded him. Love itself felt like a concept unknown to him.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly when he did not offer her a response. “I shouldn’t have brought that up here. This is hardly the time or place.”

Nicholas shook his head, trying to ignore the gnawing feeling in his chest. “There’s no need to apologize. You’re entitled to your thoughts, Violet.”

Violet gave a polite smile. “I suppose it’s the music. It has a way of stirring old memories.”

“Perhaps,” Nicholas replied.

But one thing was clear. She has suddenly given him a lot to think about.