[ P ] Lace covering your face

He stood at the entrance of the ball, half of his side warm from the heat of it all, half cool from the brisk wind outside. The urge to head inside and gawk at all of the party-goers had been strong—especially because of their fanciful masks—but he resisted. It wouldn't be quite as meaningful if he explored before Manon arrived. After having scored a second ticket, he had gone (admittedly) in search of his sister. She had been furiously studying and, despite her love of romance and wonder, had been forced to decline. In that moment, Victorian wondered if he should leave the scrap of blue fabric and change his mind.

Then a girl had appeared to say hello, her eyes green and bright. They had chatted, him reminiscing about Samhain and the fun he'd had—and then it had all clicked. Shouldn't he ask Manon and return the favor? Would it mean too much? Would it mean nothing? Was it strange?

With all of those unanswered questions still alive and well in his head, she noticed the fabric and, well, the rest was history. His awkward laugh had been the prelude to him asking if she was free... and soon enough he had a date to the ball.

Given that he was there (partially) to work, Victorian had forgone the mask. He was curious to see what she came up with though, and as he turned his head at the sound of his name, he blinked with surprise.

@Manon

Oh, she cannot believe that she is here, Manon thinks nervously as she approaches the ballroom entrance. Her legs hold a faint tremble, butterflies constantly flittering in her stomach. This is all so new and unfamiliar, the castle grounds a completely different scene to her beloved College. Even standing outside, it is easy to sense the opulence and wealth that is so utterly foreign. Will it be terribly obvious that she is not noble or of that calibre? There might be a mask upon her face, but she knows that she is no lady. Oh dear.

Staring at the smooth cobblestone that stretches to the doors of the great hall, she takes in a stuttered breath. One step at a time, Manon. Ascending the stairs, her heart stutters at the sight of Victorian, his presence a welcoming boon. Some of her nerves fade, replaced by encompassing delight. Wasting no time to approach him, she smiles a little breathlessly. "Hi."

Hit by the sudden worry that he might not recognise her, she gently lifts her mask of delicate lace, careful not to disturb the fragile decorative ferns held upright by spider silk. Waving her paw a little, she utters a soft "It's me."

Vision now unobscured, Victorian's full figure comes into view. Smile becoming shyer by the second, a sudden wave of bashfulness overcomes her at the realisation of the evening's event. There stands her first true friend, her date, someone she has grown incredibly fond of in the past few months. It's hard to believe that she has found solace in something other than her books and plants and that she's even come to a place like this because of him. Warmth fills her chest, knowing that she's finally made a connection beyond her studies. ( The Professor would be so proud. )

Eyeing Victorian, he looks no different than he usually does, stalwart and composed. But there's just a hint of glamour, she believes. Perhaps it's the grandeur of their surroundings and a trick of the candlelight but tonight has made him seem so much more... princely.

Oh! Heat spreads across her cheeks at the random thought and she pulls her mask down again in embarrassment. It's just a nice compliment, she tells herself. Don't be silly. Shuffling on her feet, she clears her throat. "Shall we go in?"

@Victorian
"speech"

"Hi," comes a familiar voice and Victorian returns his gaze to the marbled steps. There before him is Manon, although for a second he struggles to recognize her. Leafy ferns conceal a delicate face, the spider silk that binds the fronds unable to hide the dark palette underneath. She seems more refined in this moment, yet the reasons as to why escape him. Her paw lifts to adjust the mask yet spidery strands still cling to her cheeks and brow like lace. "It's me," comes the reply and a half-wave. Almost immediately, Victorian shakes the surprise from his face and smiles.

"I am so glad you could make it," he answers almost immediately. "Sorry I could not walk you." Victorian felt a slight pang in his chest. He had wanted to give her the full experience but work had summoned him. Thankfully, she had made it all in one piece. At least as repayment, he would walk her home. The city could be dangerous at night.

A moment of faint awkwardness seemed to pass between them. It was electric, oddly warm, yet all encompasssing as though a blanket pressed down on them both. He found it difficult to meet her gaze, yet also found it far too awkward to look away. His tongue became vestigal for it seemed to know no words and—"Shall we go in?"

"That is an incredible idea," Victorian laughed, snatching the distraction and turning to bring her inside. "I had never seen anything like it," he muses allowed, staring up at the torches and arched ceiling of the ballroom, its paint of strange creatures having faded overtime into pastels. When he had first stepped into the ballroom an hour before, Victorian had almost lost the ability to breathe.

"Is this all... normal?" Although he had come to spend a fair amount of time with Manon, he did not know too much about her. Had she been raised in this sort of life? Would this court fail to impress her? Granted, she seemed to view the world with such wonder that he'd be surprised if she shrugged it all off.

That was one of the things he liked about her: she was passionate, even if she chose to hide it behind the shyest of smiles.

@Manon

They begin to ascend the steps, side by side, and as the doors to the great hall grow larger, Manon begins to feel the anxiety build up in her gut. Her previous realisation of how good her date looks coupled with the grandiosity of the event they will soon attend has her nerves shot and she swallows dryly. Heart jackhammering like a rabbit's, she's sure her nervousness radiates almost palpably from her shaky steps. Taking in inaudible breaths through her mouth, she sneaks glances at Victorian, hoping that he won't notice her abnormal behaviour.

Being a part of the army, she assumes that he must attend these events all the time, even just to stand sentry. But he catches her off-guard when instead, he says, "I had never seen anything like it. Is this all... normal?"

"Uh." comes her intelligent response, tongue-tied on the spot. Giving a little shrug, she chuckles awkwardly. "Um, I'm not sure. I've never been to a ball before." Being cooped up at the College made her a full-time academic and for the duration of her studies, she never left Melrose. And even if she did, a lowly commoner like her could never mix in with the gentry.

It also isn't like she hasn't had the opportunity to go to a ball either. A few are held annually at the College and for all the years of study, she has never attended a single one— even though she had hoped to. Going alone always seemed to be too frightening and unfortunately, she never made enough friends to invite them.

This evening is a rare one, she admits. Any other evening, she would be staying at home, reading a book or something, and not on the steps of Castle Stuart. She's only here now at the King's Ball because Victorian had asked and she's so happy he did.

Smiling at him, she's determined to make this night a pleasant one for him. Shyness overridden for a brief moment, she looks to him, head tilting a little. "You haven't either, I guess? That makes both of us."

@Victorian
"speech"

Although Victorian's personality is one marked by quiet observation, he is too taken in by the ball's many sights to notice Manon's nervousness. Amber eyes take in the wolves that, to him, seem like an immovable force. Each dancer is a tree rooted to the spot, unable to be shoved or moved kindly aside. And yet he notices others moving neatly between the paws and tails and hips like minnows through a river. It gives him pause and glues him to the ground—and Manon's side. She is like a lifeline, a buoy tossed to a boy at sea.

He glances at her curiously, expecting vast wisdome and understanding in her eyes. Maybe, even, a pinch of boredom. Only there was uncertainty reflected back. "Um, I'm not sure. I've never been to a ball before." ... "Oh!" Victorian blinks as his brow lifts with surprise. The shock soon gives way to shy excitement, which is reflected on her face as well. "You haven't either, I guess? That makes both of us." "I guess we'll be exploring together, then," Victorian adds with a nod.

"What shall we tackle first?" He asks as he looks back at the array of activities. Music listening, dancing, eating, chatting, flower viewing. There was so much to do.

But now that he knew he was not in the midst of an expert, he felt a tad more... confident? It was a false sense of assertiveness that filled the void, as if to give Manon a shoulder to lean on should she feel uneasy or overwhelmed.

@Manon