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          { ❀ } — The eve of the winter ball had come upon all of them with the sol intention of bringing joy and pleasure to those who'd received an invitation, and Inigo had never been one to stray far from fully delving into what any such occasion would offer. He couldn't recall having attended many in his past, nor had he seen such a vast amount of people all crowded into one place more than just a few times. From what he could remember, there hadn't truly been time to host or partake in such events had there even been enough abundance of life or joy to do so. Now it would all make for a pleasant change and it was one he dare not waste.

          He'd kept himself quite busy, and already was the mercenary suffering from fatigue due to that night's advances--Though it certainly wasn't something he couldn't handle. In truth he'd found himself surprised by how easily he'd convinced few others to share a dance, and what evoked even more surprise was his ability and confidence in doing so in the first place. It was the atmosphere, perhaps, or it was instead due to the idea that maybe he wouldn't draw so much attention to himself amongst a throng of people all partaking in the same; waltzes and simple duets, though it was not what he truly wished to practice.

           Cautiously does a slim hand rise to adjust the silver mask--A veil he couldn't efficiently hide behind--that so sharply contrasts the ebony that frames it whilst he moves deeper within the halls of the museum in pursuit of some peace-- some privacy. Still can he clearly hear the music from the ballroom reverberating along the walls, now a much sweeter melody than before that would bring forth a distant memory-- And it's gone just as soon as it had come.

            Then he hears it-- The gentle tap of footsteps coming from behind and a sudden tremor runs through him almost as though he'd been caught doing what he hadn't even begun. He doesn't turn, however, and instead hands find his hips as he breathes an easy laugh that conceals and betrays his hesitance.

           "Now, now--No need to be shy! Care to share what I'm to expect from one who appears unannounced?"

  THIS IS MY SON AND NO ONE ELSE CAN HAVE HIM BECAUSE HE IS MINE

          Clicking his tongue he leans backward against a table, a palm delicately runs along its surface as he turns to the fellow nearest to him as he narrowly raises his glass in acknowledgement. Quick is a light grin to surface, however, as he moves to make idle conversation as he takes one more sip from his vapid beverage.

          "What might a dapper fellow like yourself be doing standing about alone like this, hmm? Could it be...that you're waiting for someone? A ravishing maiden perhaps?"

          Adjusting the cuff of his sleeve, there would be a quick drum of fingertips along his own wrist as brown eyes would flare about, taking in as much detail as he could manage from the many masked faces crowding the room. Interesting characters, they seemed to be, and the added air of mystery would certainly only serve to further entice him to ask a lady for a dance. Though already had his sights been set upon a certain woman dressed in various shades of violet, face well hidden behind the disguise as all guests, including himself, were bearing. Inigo is quick to approach her from accross the room, revealing a warm smile as he'd near and extend a calloused hand in her direction with fingertips curled in invitation.

          "Surely this stunning woman doesn't plan on spending the night alone, does she? I can think of no greater tragedy-- And it is one I wish to help avoid, if I may." There's a polite bow of the dancer's head as he steps back, gesturing towards the dance floor with his free arm as his smile broadens. "Perhaps you'll indulge me in a dance, my lady?"

          ☼ || ❝Tea sounds perfect!❞ She agrees, mood excelling at the thought of having something warm in her system. ❝If you know a nice place, I’ll let you lead the way to it and we can have some together if you want.❞ It was her experience, though incredibly minor, that meals and such were better enjoyed in company. A cup of tea should be no different.

His hopes are for naught— though while Kjelle notices, she mentions nothing of it, simply takes satisfaction at shaking his composure. It isn’t as if she doesn’t think Inigo is… an alright person, most of the time. But the flirting…. It’s decidedly enough to detract from any sort of pleasantness he may display, or any consideration to his skill that she might take. Eyes narrowing at his speech, she only scoffs, and quite without warning, extends her lance out to press against the underside of his chin.                          “How true can any love from you be, Inigo, if it makes no real                  difference to you to whom you proclaim it?”        There is a vague, subtle threat in her words, along with the accusation of his disingenuous words. Kjelle is not the woman whose emotions should be treated quite so lightly, regardless of whether or not she pays any mind to his meaningless flirtations. 

                        “A few words of advice, though whether or not you’ll take it is                 entirely up to you— no woman wants to be one of a multitude of faces                 that you flirt with. It’s impossible to take you seriously, and in all truth,                 It lends no credibility to your declarations of emotion if you say the                 same to every girl you come across. Especially not if they were within                 earshot of the last girl you declared your love to, you idiot.” 

          { ❀ } — Ah, how his heart would race and soon catch in his throat the very instant her lance --though wooden-- would threaten to pierce his skin. Expect the unexpected he would chide himself time and time again, though that hardly seemed to be the case right then. And for a moment did feel Inigo a tickle of fear, though perhaps the only thing he truly need be afraid of was a splinter. Or so he'd hoped-- He swallows thickly, eyebrows pinched as he lets out a rueful laugh.

          Closed lids would part as mahogany pools were downcast to her weapon, lips pursed in silent contemplation as fingertips would move to press against it as if he held the intention of moving it aside. But he would instead expel a defeated sigh, lips pulling back to further reveal a muted smile.

divelsi

          To say that she was unhappy to see him wouldn’t be quite right, but then again..she wasn’t too enthusiastic that he’d been brought here either. ❝ Oh, Inigo. How lovely to see you here. ❞ evident sarcasm is apparent as she speaks, though it shouldn’t be taken to heart.

          ❝ Are you still trying to ‘win the hearts of fair maidens’ or whatever it is that you do? ❞

        { ❀ } — "You're a ravishing sight yourself, Severa," would come the dancer's reply, laced with the undertones of flattery whilst fingers combed through his stygian fringe. The harsh timbre wouldn't go unnoticed, of course, yet it had been so terribly long since he'd last been the target of her scorn it was welcomed.

          ☼ || ❝It’s been freezing for days, I don’t understand how people even enjoy this cold weather. I can barely feel my feet half the time.❞