[ albus & avery ]
avery had spent the last several months preparing for nights like this - though one could say she’d spent her entire life in preparation, learning the ways of this world since the moment she’d first drawn breath. her mother had seen fit to ensure her only daughter would be well prepared to enter society - they were puceys, and the pucey family could not be seen to be anything less than perfect. with her elder brother quite resistant to making a suitable marriage any time soon, pansy pucey was determined to see at least one of her children make a happy match. so here she stood, fresh from a successful presentation before the queen herself, at her very first ball as a young lady of marriageable age.
she must give the duke and duchess of wolvesly their due - the masked faces that surrounded her added an air of mystery to the night. it all felt quite magical, and avery could not help but enjoy the freedom anonimity brought her. she was not foolish enough to let herself get too carried away by it - her mother’s sharp eyes would catch any mistakes, masked or not - but surely she was allowed to have some fun. she wanted to dance, to see what all the fuss was about - and if she might meet a nice young man in the process, then all the better for it. the prospect of marriage may have been daunting, but this part, where she was finally allowed to experience the world that had so long been denied her, made it almost seem worth it.
embroidered green vines twined over the pale green silk of her mask and dress both, as if she were some kind of wood fairy, her dark hair curled up into an elaborate style. her mother was - avery glanced around, realising she’d lost sight of lady pucey, a slight frown settling upon her face. perhaps it was easier than she’d realised, to become lost in this crowd of hidden faces. she swallowed her nerves, trying to appear unbothered by being temporarily abandoned. her mother would return soon enough, and if not - it was not as if there was any danger in this crowded ballroom.
then she paused. it happened quite suddenly - one moment she was standing alone, and the next there was a young gentleman approaching her, and it was as if all her mother’s coaching fell from her mind. what was she supposed to do, to say? why had she not practiced this more? her worries almost made her miss his question. but there could be no mistaking it - he was asking her to dance! ‘ oh - oh, of course, that would be lovely! ‘ avery replied, then wondered if that was the proper way to accept such a proposal. where was her mother, to remind her of her manners? oh, never mind her mother. she was wearing a mask ; this man did not even know who she was, so what did it matter if her manners were less than perfect?
He'd never had an eye for fashion, but after travelling and seeing the dress of so many cultures, Al had grown to appreciate the intricate details that Lily and their mother spent so much time fussing over. As his eyes roamed over the girl's dress, the vines calling memories of leaves and uncut trees and nights camping alone in the forest. It was a dress straight from Shakespeare: a true midsummer night's dream. Or, at least, he was sure that's what the other ladies must be thinking.
Whoever she was, it was to be a mystery to him, just as the fact that she was dancing with the new Duke of Carneath would have to remain a secret from her. Maybe someone would know her—Lily or his mother. Her willingness to dance with him without knowing his name or his station or even his face must speak highly to the woman before him. The surprise in the masked lady's voice took him aback; surely others would have been clamoring to dance with her in all her splendor. Any man with eyes would be drawn to her.
The straight-forward earnestness of the answer brought a smile to his lips. She was a debutante, maybe. Had this been anything but her first season, the answer would have been practiced, coy. A girl like this would never make it through her first season unwed, of that much Al was certain. She would be engaged in no time. But first, if he could figure out who she was, he would ask her to dance again at the next ball, this time unmasked. Surely sharing the first dance with a duke would bring eyes to her and make her that much more desirable to the eligible bachelors of London. Not that she would need any help to find a husband.
He shook off the hint of sadness that crept up on him at the thought and held out a gloved hand to her just as the music began to turn into something a little more upbeat. "I must warn you, I may be a little out of practice. But I don't think dancing is something one can truly forget."















