❝ I’m glad that you’re glad, ❞ is all that he can find to say, more clever words evading him. Smooth. He fights the habit to run his fingers through his hair, instead keeping both hands firmly placed on Sera. Still, there is an honest truth in them. The amount Caius would endure the ensure Sera’s happiness is no small list. The Calore princess has given him the closest thing he can find to it for himself in her friendship – he owes her nothing less. Even now, she does what she can to set him at EASE, already taking away his power in the blink of an eye before he had even fully made it over to her.
Whenever he’s with Sera, he doesn’t have to fear himself. He can look anywhere, speak to anyone, knowing that she makes it all go away – that part of himself that he’s so afraid of. He could do so now, if he wished. And yet, when she’s around, he rarely ever finds himself wanting to. She holds his attention so t h o r o u g h l y, sometimes he thinks the room could burst into flames around them and he would scarcely notice, save for how the light it casts DANCES across her eyes. ( Kieran has teased him of it before, the way he lets her pull him in, hardly capable of focusing on anything else when she’s in his peripheral. )
Perhaps this is what it is like, then, to have a true friendship. Don’t mistake him – he loves Kieran dearly, and considers the man the closest thing he has to a brother. But with Sera, everything is just d i f f e r e n t, in a way that he can’t explain. Every touch, every word, every action she does, she elicits a different response. It used to confuse him – sometimes, still does – but he’s learned to accept it as simply a part of their relationship. ( Maybe he doesn’t need to. What does it matter, after all, to have explanation, so long as it all works in the end? ) She is his solace, of that he is aware, even if it puts him on precarious ground in the long run.
❝ More-so now, ❞ he says sincerely, as they waltz around the dance floor. And it’s true. Though he’d found moments of reprieve earlier in the evening, among friends and less-than-friends, it was not until Sera that he felt a sense of peace. ( As peaceful as he can EVER BE, at any rate. ) ❝ It’s of no matter, really. ❞ Caius doesn’t want her worrying about him; doesn’t want his discomfort to ruin her night. He’s done this before, and will survive tonight as well. What matters to him is that SHE is happy.
❝ As for Kieran and the sweets, I’m afraid I can make no promises. ❞ Caius grins warmly, and he feels the tension slowly r e l e a s e from his shoulders as they move across the floor – with Sera leading every step of the way. It’s a fact that amuses him, something endearing, and he wouldn’t DARE correct her on it. He’s never been much of a dancer anyhow; much better to let the one that knows what they’re doing take the lead, so far as Caius is concerned.
He hardly notices when the music slows, a soft switch to a new melody, and the pairs around them come to a halt. The end of the dance. But he finds he isn’t ready to let go of her yet; to relinquish her company to another, and is hesitant to release his grip on her hand. Funny how, in any other circumstance, he would be looking for this opportunity to flee. To get out of this ENVIRONMENT with a polite bow and quiet exit, perhaps now finally capable of escaping the masquerade entirely. But he has spent too much of the night avoiding her, trying not to monopolize her time with his selfishness, that now that it is his, he wants to hold onto it. Hold onto her, his friend. Just a little bit longer.
Caius decidedly leaves it to her then. He looks at her quietly, questioning, willing to turn and leave at her word. Stay. Or Stay. He wants her to be happy, after all; he’ll do whatever she wants of him.
Dancing with Caius is like nothing she’s experienced before. Dancing has always been Sera’s domain, more so than any one of her ladies, more so than most of court, and music has always been an IMPORTANT part of her life. She can’t remember a time when she wasn’t dancing across her room and singing to her sisters, to her ladies, along with Juliana’s violin. But even with all of that, even with all the dancing partners she’s had, this moment with Caius ranks at the top of her list. He’s not the most talented dancer, he’s not leading her across the floor and spinning her around and lifting her, but he’s staring at her like she’s somehow managed to set all the planets into alignment for him, following her steps like he’d follow her to the end of the world. And somehow, that means more to Sera than any amount of talent. He cares about her –– of course he does, he’s your friend, a TERRIBLE voice in the back of her mind that sounds suspiciously like Reason reminds her –– and that’s e v e r y t h i n g to Sera.
She would never say it out loud to him, she can’t, but she wants, more than anything, to thank him for this moment, for the fragile and careful way he holds her against him as they dance. She wants to thank him for being the man she loves and letting her pretend, for a few minutes, that there is more to this friendship than a few stolen moments in a library every once in a while. He’s speaking, he’s smiling, and she wants to weep. She’s always loved his smile; always loved the sound of his voice, whether he’s teasing Kieran or he’s reading to her or saying her name, her name, just the simple litany and the rise and the fall of her name. “ I KNEW it, ” she laughs, laughs! She’s struck suddenly with the realization that she’s laughed more since her brother returned that morning than she has in the last two years. “ I should never have left the sweets unguarded. I’ll never get my almond cakes now, ” she grins, though if she’s being honest, the little almond cakes that she loves so much are the last thing on her mind. His eyes are so green, so bright behind his mask, and she is so happy.
The music stops soon, too soon, and Sera’s startled by it, standing in the ballroom in Caius’s arms like it was the center of a blast radius. His grip is getting more and more tenuous, like he’s ready to let go and walk away –– and that’s what people do at the end of dances, that voice called Reason reminds her –– and she tightens her grip on his hand, for just a moment.
“ Wait, ” she asks, her voice shaky and careful, not wanting to ask too much more of him but not yet ready to let him go. Sera barely has time to form another sentence before the band starts up again, a livelier song, one that requires close dancing and a lot of lifts. Too many things crowded on the tip of her tongue, clambering for her to give voice to them. Stay with me. Don’t go. Don’t leave me yet. Stay by my side. Dance with me until dawn is rising and everyone else is gone, so everyone knows where I want to remain. “ I love this song, ” she tells him instead, a hopeful smile blooming across her lips. Hopeful that he’ll say yes, hopeful that he’ll hold her tighter, hopeful that he UNDERSTANDS that when she says I love this song, what she means is I love you.
His hand tightening around hers is like a weight off her back, and she spins out and back in to the beat so quickly that her forehead touches his, their masks bumping and knocking hers askew. She LAUGHS again, bright and loud and melodic, and she’s never been this close to his lips before, and she has to tell herself to tear away, to rest her hands on his shoulders and enjoy this friendship for what it is, not what it is not. Still, for the moment, it is enough.
Then again, Caius always has been.