Cassius Montagu was not a man who had much in common with those around him, but today they were all united in the singular joy of Jon Vallesâ demise. Â Technically gathered in celebration of Jonâs unillustrious life, the gathering had turned moreso into a gala commemorating his demise. Â Joy, frivolity, dancing, and drinking permeated every corner of the Great Hall, devoid only of those amongst his acquaintance who had been accused of his murder.
Cassius, too, rejoiced in the loss of Jon Valles, but it did not prevent the little voice in his head from whispering that such a celebration would greet his own passing. Â Cassius took a long draught from his cup and gazed forward. Â As he did, he spotted a cluster of Jonâs un-bereaved relatives, the Fontaines.
Arthur Arrington, apparently having sensed their presence, already hovered in their orbit, as did other interested suitors, but Cassius found himself arrested, arrested by Guinevereâs laughing eyes.  They danced merrily as she spoke with her friends, animated in a way she scarcely ever was with him.  Her cheeks glowed with smiles and she tilted her head with joyous laughter.  He longed to hear the sound, to tuck it away for moments of reflection.  Her movements were active, free, in a way she hadnât been since Valles first arrived and she grinned with genuine light.  As awful as these past months had been, Vallesâ hovering, her fatherâs deathâŚnow she must feel, tonight at least, free of it.  His heart ached for her and yearned to be with her, but he was a shadow and he didnât dare tarnish her light.
Hearing someone approach him, Cassius started from his reverie, casting a dirty glance towards whomever had dared interrupt his more pleasant thoughts. Â He sighed and returned his glance, though more unseeingly, towards Guinevere when he saw who it was. Â Both Willâs delight in his presence and his name pained Cassius, reminding him of the man he ought to have been. Â A man he had never been (if he had truly been - as at one time heâd thought he was - he would never have done the things he did); never would be.
âI do not require advice from you,â he responded curtly.  âAnd I donât dance.â  His glance slid back towards Guinevere, however, as he pictured her smiling that way at him (something he knew would never happened).  Unbidden the image of her in his arms, the touch of her hand in his or on his shoulder, her skirts brushing his boots, her so very close to himâŚThe idea of such a dance was not at all unappealing, Cassius realized with annoyance.  He disguised his frown with a well-timed sip from his cup.
The truth was, Willâs advice wasnât bad, and that only made Cassius all the more irritated, as he didnât particularly want this conversation to begin with. Â Cassius didnât altogether dislike Will, not really. Â He did, however, dislike the considerations Will brought to the front of his mind: his best friend and all heâd ever counted as family dead at his own hand, the order heâd once cherished and protected brought to smoldering ruin, and most cruelly of all, the thought of what had once been and what might have been. Â And most of all he despised how Will seemed to hold Cassius up as an idol, wanted to be like him, thought him good and decent and worthy of emulation. Â The notion was more than Cassius could stomach. Â Somehow, the festering lie was almost worse than the horrific truth it disguised.
Exhaling, he cast a sidelong glance towards Will.  He didnât dislike Will, himself.  He disliked what he represented.  But that wasnât Willâs fault.  Since the boy had made an effort, Cassius thought, perhaps he should do so too.  âI suppose that is what you would do,â he commented, in an effort to make conversation (and partially because heâd realized Willâs idea wasnât half bad).  âSelect a lady upon whom to lavish your attentions for a night and thenâŚwhat?â  Will clearly was unengaged, meaning his attentions were of a more fleeting nature.  But many of the ladies he courted were noble, including at least one Beaumont girl.  Which meant either these were chaste flirtationsâŚor Will Caldwell was, in fact, literally flirting with danger.  Cassius shouldnât worry about such a thing - after all he told himself he didnât care - but the lad had once been his squire, his responsibility.  Cassius half felt he ought to caution him, half felt he ought to walk away and never consider the matter ever again.
He shook his head. Â âIn any case, Lady Guinevere appears much engaged, at present,â he said, nodding towards where she was chatting amiably with her friends. Â âIâve no desire to interrupt.â
I do no require advice from you ...Â
A wiser man would have left after such a comment from the last dragon rider, but Will was often a fool (and he was especially when he was sipping on the Queenâs strongest ales). He did not hear the tone nor saw the look, but instead only focused on what Cassius had said. And he wanted to laugh outright. It was, perhaps, a good thing that he did not.Â
Did not require his advice? Will thought, Does he not realize that when it came to wooing women, Cassius was even more hopeless than Lysander?
He wasnât especially approachable, standing silently in the dark with a scowl. Will had seen brave women try to approach him, before. They'd hoped to decorate the arm of Aragothâs most powerful man, but heâd never encouraged any of them and now his reputation had deferred even the most persistent ladies until he was generally left completely alone.Â
Didnât he realize that all he had to do, was be a little more friendly and approachable and heâd have women throwing themselves at his feet?Â
If Will did not love the thrill of the case, he would have been envious.Â
But Will was also convinced that all Cassius needed was a little push. So he ignored his first comment altogether. He didnât give up as easily as others (in fact, Will rarely turned back once heâd set his mind on something, even when everyone else told him it was folly. It would likely be his undoing someday). âEveryone dances.â He said, âYou just need to wait for the right one. For you: something soft; something slow.âÂ
Will chuckled when Cassius asked him what he would do ... and what came next. âAnd then ... nothing.â He said, although there was a mischievous look in his eye. âEveryone knows my flirtations are fleeting.â Although that was his main trouble: not everyone did know. âWell, in all cases but one. But she is not here tonight.â He thought immediately of Rose as he spoke. She was the one woman who had refused him ... again and again and again and again. She was stubborn, but he was determined. One day, sheâd say yes.Â
And one day, heâd once told Lysander, he would marry her.Â
Will sighed when he said that he did not wish to interrupt Guinevere, âIf you spend all of your life waiting for the perfect moment, youâll wait forever.âÂ
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