BURN FOR YOU.

Rebirth For You  嘉南传: Episode 11

"tell me, how many suitors are vying for your hand tonight? i must be very lucky to have won a moment of your time, let alone to be graced with a dance." in the background, the music slows into a classical waltz. nadir's free hand hovers amelia's waist. his smile is all teeth now, even as he sways to the music. "i suppose i must thank you, amelia." he's certain that the slip of his tongue—the casual mention of her name without a title—would not go unnoticed.

one step leads to another, and then another, and another. and then he asks, "if i had told you that i so badly wanted to dance with you, would you have called me a liar?"

– IT IS HARD NOT TO VIEW NADIR'S ACTIONS WITH AN AIR of performance – though that would be a compliment to him, where others might see the showmanship as arrogance. of course, it is easy to portray such a demeanor without scrutiny when one is an eligible suitor. but no one knows who amelia really is either, and she carries herself with the elegance and importance of this season's diamond ( despite being a few years past fresh enough to truly court the queen's favor. ) maybe they can put on a performance together. " i do not want your flattery if it is empty, my lord, " amelia says, raising her gaze to his as they find the dance floor. " though i'll admit – i am skeptical due to your lack of interest when we were first introduced. i would love to know how i inspired this change of heart, " there's an air of facetious innocence, a smile that lifts the corner of dark red lips as she tilts her head, eye contact only broken by the steps of the dance.

she could do this with her eyes closed, but she is grateful for the moment to spin out of reach when he remarks about her potential suitors. " well, you know what they say about me, " she says, voice lowered only slightly in the moments where nadir draws her closer, " i'm quite particular. take that for the compliment it is. " she contemplates his question a moment, her hands in his as they move in time to the warbling beat, in the center of the ton's attention. she wonders what is being said about him, that she's chosen such a rogue for her first dance this season.

“False concerns!” William bought his hand up to his heart in mock hurt. “You can trust, Lady Zhang, I would be very concerned if harm came to you. I have become rather determined to hear you admit you may need my help. I fear until that happens I will have to protect you with my life!”

– "WELL...WITH A FOOLISH GOAL LIKE THAT, then it is a good thing that you're, what was it that you said ? accostomed to disappointment ? " she retorts calmly, a gentle tilt of her head as she peers up at him almost expectantly. it is a good thing they're in the gardens, away from the ton that amelia has taken painstaking effort to remain in good standing with. she should not be speaking to a gentleman like this so openly, but the captain's arrogance seems to test her pride.

overcome with a sudden need to sit, she moves to a matching set of chairs near the window. “may i sit?” it is more a courtesy as she is sat before the other can give a response. “the alcohol is working its way through my system. take my advice and never venture to drink that man under the table. i suspect if you cut him open, spirits would drain forth before blood.” perched from her seat, she is able to take notice of her surroundings for the first time without her vision reeling. it is a fine room, but a threadbare one. there are the chairs near the windows, a bed, a vanity, and not much else in way of personal artifacts or ornamentation. confusion takes hold as she peers closer to the details — or lack thereof. it is as if one is peering through a window of a dollhouse, more reminiscent of a staged scene rather than a personal bedroom. 

the woman before her could be a doll with her porcelain skin and soft, flowing hair, but the shadows cast over her face make her more haunted than demure. “if you are not technically a prisoner, then who are you?”

– THERE'S WARMTH THAT BLOOMS IMMEDIATELY underneath lucy's gentle fingertips, and she's immediately reminded why she tends to prefer the company of women. after all, she can't help but be fond of her own affect, and even more than that, it's hard not to admire the woman that's walked through the door this evening – easily preferential company to clementine and arrogance and unseemly appearance. lucy's eyes might be bright, but they are extremely discerning ( likely why she's lived as long as she has with everything she knows about the members of the ton. ) her brow furrows only slightly as she attempts to put together the pieces regarding her unexpected visitor's presence – though the indication that clementine won't be showing up certainly makes lucy's shoulders look lighter, there are some things she cannot hide.

" secrets ? oh, i'm sure there are plenty. but certainly not what you were expecting. " lucy stretches out on the bed, and pats the spot beside her. " you can make yourself comfortable, if you do not intend to leave soon. i may have had dreams about precisely what you suspect, but i have no intention of harming you, " a devious smirk lifts the corners of crimson red lips, " we are far away from the confines of polite society. i see no reason why we cannot sit intimately in conversation. you can relax, " the last sentence is said with a certain gentleness, as she can sense the way this girl is fighting against her senses and everything in her bloodstream to remain on high alert. while lucy is trying to figure out whether this strange situation holds any potential benefit – or blackmail – to her, she has no intention of doing any harm.

Edward was obligated to be there, he was a Prince of England and his mother had pretty much demanded his presence, making it very clear that she was picking the Diamond of the season and that he should pay attention, and heed her recommendation. He was of the age where his parents and the Kingdom expected him to be wed, so he wasn’t at all surprised by his social calendar for the season, and the garden party was just the first of many. 

As he was introduced by one of the other courtiers, he bowed his head politely at the people he had just been introduced to, playing his role when a Garden party full of eligible ladies of the Ton literally looking for their Princes approached him, giving him barely a moment’s peace. 

Chuckling as he saw that someone else had evidently had the bright idea to hide deeper into the gardens, he just cleared his throat. “I dont believe we’ve been introduced –” he said, staying where he was and making his presence known by the other. 

– SHE USED TO LOVE THIS SORT OF THING. generally in her element at any banquet, ball or soiree, amelia felt like she was born to stand at the center of the room among the ton. she still puts on airs like that, gliding about the room with a certain confident authority, whether it's chatting with the other ladies or offering her dance card. she knows that there's no possible way that she can accept a betrothal this season, but it's entirely about appearances for her. if only it weren't so suffocating sometimes, having to pretend. she misses the intrigue of her first season, of feeling like she belonged.

when she turns her head over her shoulder to meet the eyes of whoever's approaching, it's difficult not to resent the prince before her a little bit. things must come so easy to him. at the very least, he is a man, able to make a destiny based on more than what he can offer as a dowry.

with: @countenanced — amelia.

as it stands to reason, his aunt and uncle would be much better off sinking their time and energy into finding a match for nadir's own cousins. yet he has been pointed to no small number of lords and ladies tonight alone, so it seems like he must accept the dull reality: that not even he, a foreign ship captain with no real grasp over london society, may be spared from the marriage market. how he wishes that his aunt and uncle know of the deal he had made with franscesca toussaint already.

well, no matter. a garden party is no worthy adversary for captain nadir gulse. surely being thrown to wolves—the horde of dancing partygoers, that is—could prove to be great fun.

his feet land him in front of the lady amelia zhang, though he's certain that the shove or two from his aunt helped nadir find himself exactly where she wants him to be. he supposes that he could have done much worse than her, so he offers his hand. "forgive the intrusion, my lady," he drawls, not sounding the slightest bit sorry. "i may have found myself in a predicament that only you can solve by dancing with me. it's my aunt, you see. she is, of course, the loveliest lady, but ah," here, he pauses, leaning in to lower his voice. laughter threatens to bubble over his lips, but he presses on. "she can be quite forceful. i simply must dance with you, she says. surely you would not let me return to her without having earned this dance with you?"

– SHE'S NOT AS GLITTERY AS SHE WAS A FEW SEASONS AGO, at least. there's still waves of nostalgia at a party such as this, ones where she can remember her first season, where everything seemed possible. then the second, where she felt miserable and confused, but somehow found herself even more desirable due to an infamous rejection. and unable to enjoy it. then the third, where the offers came from unserious suitors looking for a challenge more than a wife, or men seemingly below her station anyway. either way, she wouldn't have the luxury of accepting any of them. and now ? she has other things on her mind, namely scanning the crowd for wherever her eligible sister's run off to.

she does not expect to come face to face with a man. " oh ! " a breathless exclamation. her gloved hand gently takes his, curtsying daintily. " lord gulse. how lovely – and unexpected to see you here. are you taking part in the season ? " amelia asks. when they were last introduced, he could not have seemed less interested in her, or anything regarding society. her eyes narrow slightly as his explanation comes together. her lips purse. " ah. so you mean to use me as a distraction for her, " she observes, feeling insulted. it's only her pride that keeps her from hiding her shame, that this will be her first dance tonight, and it's with someone who's made painstaking care to emphasize they have no interest in her.

Where: palace gardens

William was bored. Not a surprise really. He had never particularly liked these types of events, lacking activities and distractions. It left him with little to do but fret. Fret that his cravat was out of place, his air not dignified enough. Most of all it made him fret that peoples eyes were on him. He could not silence that little voice which said they know. They know you’re not one of them. Little bastard boy who could never belong.

Will needed a distraction, and he was extremely pleased when one appeared.

– SURREPTITIOUSLY, AMELIA HASN'T HAD THE PRIVILEGE OF belonging in many seasons. she pretends, though, for the sake of it, and she has an important role this season – assisting her sister in finding a prosperous match. grace, who has nothing to hide, who can entertain courtships freely with the wealth of their family's riches to offer, and yet . . . seemingly has no desire to do so. there's only so long that amelia can keep up the charade before it starts to feel suffocating. it's hard not to feel trapped by the confines of duty and blood in a society that's designed to define women by only their parentage or matrimony. ( and amelia has neither. )

It is hard to keep a straight face as he watches her pull the reigns. Obviously skill evidently not enough the move a horse so stubborn (even William shudders at the idea of trying to tame it).

– "THEN IT'S NO WONDER YOU APPROACHED ME with such confidence, captain, " is her brazen retort, refusing to let his amusement get to her – at least outwardly. but she can't help the bodily betrayal in the way her cheeks burn at the horse's abject refusal to follow her instruction. amelia DOES know what she is doing, having been riding since she was a child, but she's flustered by the captain's attention and his arrogant demeanor, and surely the steed beneath her can sense that.

she looks forward, toward the green pastures and the fields that roll out in front of them. amelia takes a deep breath as the wind ruffles through her hair, trying to find certain serenity that's escaped her for as long as she's acknowledged the gaze of william charles. there are leaves that whip past her, the chirps of birds that permeate what is otherwise silence. her heart rate slows.

once, as a very small child, hero had found a book on la fête de rois, a day where any common man could be made king as long as he found a bean inside a cake. back then, the idea of becoming a king had captured her young mind in a simple way, crowns and jewels and pastries. but the story of that book came back to her often even in adulthood, when she selfishly wished that only her desires and nothing else mattered. that’s exactly what she was thinking about as her brand new gown was being adjusted. “i do so wish you would come with me to the queen’s party.” she said to lucy, a bit petulantly. “heaven knows all the ladies there will be stumbling all over themselves to catch a gentleman, and the gentlemen wouldn’t be worth talking to unless someone transformed their tongues into silver.” 

⊰ @countenanced​. ⊱‌

a pall of cigar smoke coils through the air like fog, strangling the light from the room. it’s a battle against her body to not press a gloved hand over her mouth and nose as it cloys her senses. the silhouettes of men are more whisplike through the vapor in their drunken stupor. their voices reverberate off the walls and echo in rissa’s skull. still, she pushes on through the haze until she spots the man she is after: john clementine, steward to the earl of liverpool. he is gambling with cards just as she was told he would be, face drawn into a scowl as he folds his current hand. it’s with good fortune that the seat directly across from him is open for her to slide into as she says, “hit me.” 

                                              𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

the stairs creak beneath her feet, the hallway crooked and claustrophobic. or is it the world that is tipping? rissa can’t say, though an onlooker might have a clue from her swaying frame — it’s that damned clementine’s fault for drinking her under the table. a shot of gin turned into a pint of beer and then the spirits overflowed with rum; it seemed the older man could drown in liquor and die happy for it, but rissa was never one to be outdone. and she had won, hadn’t she? tolerance to copious amounts of alcohol was not something she had prepared for, but gambling certainly was. it was over once she had him provoked enough to accept the challenge, his pride wounded and all his bettings her’s. 

it is why she is standing in a seedy establishment at the top of the stairs, preparing to open a door. it reminds her of a story she read as a child; one where curious women opening doors led to nothing but bloodshed and gore. she finds her hand is on the knob anyways, turning it and pushing it to reveal a room with a woman. this one is not on a hook much to her relief. “oh,” she hiccups, blinking rapidly. “please tell me john clementine doesn’t have you trapped up here to await a gruesome fate. i am much too inebriated to handle such a responsibility as spiriting you away into the night.”

– AS MUCH AS LONDON HAS BECOME LUCY'S SAFE HAVEN it is also her cage. she has found ways to shape it to her liking, of course, small avenues that give her an advantage. she ingratiates herself to the seediest of lords that can benefit her, collects secrets that she hoards like keys to a forsaken kingdom. the redhead has a discerning eye, having seen much more of the world than polite society has with all of their naivety. but she is still not free. when her brother comes home reeking of whiskey and debts that she will have to work to make up for, she cannot hate him. she knows he is only trying to cope with their past ; and in her own way, so is she.

even if clementine isn't at her door tonight, there is always someone else, isn't there ? another way to fulfill her never-changing role in society. and yet, she cannot let go of silly pipe dreams. this woman before her has all of the naivety in her eyes that lucy is envious of, something she lost long before she had the ability to recognize it. maybe the brunette doesn't know it yet, but lucy can tell – she doesn't belong here. " no. i'm not technically a prisoner, " her laughter is light, cascading from her like a waterfall – but a cage is still a cage. a smile curls the edges of lucy's lips, and she beckons the other girl a little closer.

If William did not know better, he would suspect she was responding in such a way to get a rise out of him. He had never been able to resist an opportunity to nettle someone. From winding up his younger brother cousin, to ribbing the other soldiers in his battalion, there was a cheek to Will that he had never been able to repress.

“You must be careful - that sounds an awful lot like a challenge to me, and military men have never been able to resist a challenge, although…” a brief pause as he considers every military man he knew who would be extremely eager to flee from a challenge, “perhaps that is just me.”

He sat up straighter in his seat, as if preparing to take off with his horse “a pity…” he said, his voice making it clear he was getting nothing but enjoyment from this situation, “but I suppose the beast seems relatively under control for now, and once I am gone there will be no one to spook it. I shall simply have to assume you have made it home safely.”

– AMELIA'S EYES NARROW SLIGHTLY, not understanding the captain's interaction. a sort of shine in his eyes, lips twitch like he's barely containing a smile when she's been trying her damndest to put him off . . . it doesn't make any sense. and she hates that it makes her feel curious, the unexpected interest to peel back the layers and understand what exactly he finds so amusing. she is not generally the source of such things. " are you accostomed to failure then, captain ? " she asks, upping the ante – if he says that he enjoys a challenge, then she will give him one. " if not, then you will be, " it's her turn to smile slightly – a little of her own amusement, too, at the back and forth. at the very least, she likes feeling confident that she could prove someone else wrong.

though even with all the bravado that amelia can muster, there's no denying that she IS nervous about her current state. only too stubborn to do anything but deal with it, especially if the only other option is begging. if he's trying to call her bluff, he will soon learn she's far too stubborn.