“You want me to lie to you, then.”

That was her response. Because to be honest, the Young Master was often the subject of the tricks of little girls. They could get a little crazy for him.

But the truth hurts, and Damien made a face like he was going to enter a state of depression. Hence, she dropped the matter. Instead, Vera rallied the naked girls and gave them a hard look.

“Clothe yourselves and leave.” She told them. Many of the girls nodded silently, clearly too embarrassed to even look up. One enterprising young lady, however, was a bit strange.

“But what about my turn?” She cried.

Vera stared her down.

And like that, they all dressed and scurried away. Except for that last girl, who lingered at the door and stared longingly at Damien’s hand before departing with a sigh.

What an uncouth little brat. Vera devoted her face to memory.

“You should get changed,” Damien said after they had all left. Vera nodded and started opening her bag. Damien promptly left the room and leaned against a wall.

Vera poked her head out a few minutes later. “Ahem.” She coughed politely. Damien opened his eyes and glanced in her direction. “I require your assistance. The laces...”

Damien wordlessly agreed to help and she disappeared back into the room. He followed. What he saw was Vera standing a few feet wreathed in a beautiful red ball gown with black frills. Her back was towards him so he couldn’t see her face, but he didn’t need to.

As soon as he saw her, he sighed. “It’s going to be a rough night.” Vera felt his warm hands brush back her hair.

“Why?”

“Because I’m going to have to beat back all the boys who’ll try to steal you away.”

Vera often spoke arrogantly about her looks. She did so not because she truly was so confident, but because that was better than showing the opposite. She looked very much like her mother, and her mother was a very beautiful woman. That, she knew.

But Vera also knew she did not have the same womanly charms her mother enjoyed. And what’s more, she inherited the woman’s same lack of facial expression.

“You don’t have to worry about that. Even if they did steal me away, they wouldn’t keep me.”

She may be pretty. But who’d want someone who gave out all the warmth of a frozen statue? And Vera found it very hard to be honest with people. Even herself. She’s a coward. If it were otherwise, she’d have told the Young Master she cared for him a long time ago. She’d have been nicer, kinder.

She wouldn’t have made his life as hellish as she had. The boy’s previous comments sprang to mind.

You’ve always been rotten to me.

And that was true. She’s a petty, jealous thing.

You spent a whole day undoing the seams to my clothes.

That’s not “messing with,” that’s just evil.

She’d tormented him so much. Anyone else would be sick of her by now. He didn’t only because he was a weird person, but he didn’t deserve her toxic behavior. Just because she didn’t know how to ask for his attention properly, she resorted to mean pranks and harsh words?

To the person she claimed to care about? It was twisted. She loathed herself for being that way, she really did. Vera isn’t at all like how she wished she was. She didn’t know how to be any other way, either.

It’s already good enough I’m not hated. Anything more is too much to ask, or even dream about.

People like her and her mother, people would be attracted to them for a while. But someone who didn’t know how to be warm would never know anything but that short, fleeting affection. Nobody would want to be around someone who only understood how to be mean, even towards the people they love.

Damien’s fingers adjusted the strings to her bodice expertly as he replied, “That’s bullshit.” He pulled tight. “People usually can’t see their worth on their own. Trust me, anyone who wouldn’t want to keep you simply doesn’t deserve to.” The boy turned her around. “Now chin up.” He lifted her head. “You’re perfect.”

“Of course you’d say that.” Her eyes stung. “You’re a mushy idiot. Who’d believe the words of a playboy like you anyway?”

“A mushy playboy idiot I may be,” He readily admitted, “But don’t doubt my eye for women. I know which ones are keepers, and you’re definitely one.” The boy’s eyes grew shifty. “That’s why I gotta make sure you don’t fall for some other playboy’s vile tricks.” He looked about the room suspiciously, as if a playboy would jump out of the shadows to take her away at any moment.

Vera found herself staring at him. I’ve already fallen for your tricks, how could I fall for anyone else’s?

But obviously it was not something she could ever say.

She pushed him carelessly. “Oh please, save those lines for people dumb enough to actually believe them.” She rolled her eyes. “I just meant no one else is as masochistic as you. After everything I’ve done, you still seem ready for more.”

Damien snorted. “You’re the one who keeps coming back for more beatings. You minorly inconvenience me, but I make that ass black and blue. Exactly which of us is the masochist?”

Vera couldn’t refute this. “I guess all that means is we both are.”

He blinked. Then grinned. “Quite a pair, then, aren’t we?” He laughed.

“As toxic a couple there has never before been.” She agreed.

Damien offered his arm. “Shall this toxic couple continue our date?”

***

Had this been a Nobleman’s ball, his arrival would’ve been announced with all the pomp and circumstance befitting the son of a powerful Marquis who held the authority to command a third of the kingdom’s military.

This ball, however, was a lot more casual. And so while they did have quite a few eyes on them as they entered, it was still preferable to Damien than the stuffy atmospheres of banquets he was used to.

As expected of a ball, there were musicians on a stage near the back of the room. The sweet sound of violins entered his ears. It was solemn and subdued, more background music than anything else. Despite it being a ball, no one was dancing. Instead, they stood next to their partners sipping punch or quietly conversing.

Even so, Vera was slightly overwhelmed. It was a bit rare for her to attend parties like this, so she was out of her element and felt very uneasy. Perhaps noticing this, Damien turned to her and extended his palm with a small bow.

“May I have this dance?”

Vera almost said no. It wasn’t that she didn’t know how to dance, but that there were a lot of eyes on her and she didn’t want to mess up. At the same time, she’d never gotten the chance to dance with the Young Master before and maybe never would have the excuse again.

Her nervousness warred with her desire and in the end she nodded. The Young Master then said but a word and a section of the floor had been cleared for them.

He whistled to catch the attention of the musicians and put in a request. The men and women seemed suddenly alive, apparently happy. And moments later a soft yet grand piece was played that was full of an austere grace and elegance.

Damien took her hand firmly as the music began and led her into a simple, familiar dance she had never personally experienced. They started spinning and circling each other, their feet shuffling to that slow, rhythmic melody.

But the difference in their height proved a challenge for her, and as the music continued to increase in tempo she found herself struggling to keep up. Her dress got in the way and her heels made her clumsy, just as she feared. In spite of this, it was heaven being here with him like this. Even more when their gaze met--her heart skipped a beat, her feet nearly following suit.

Damien had the most beautiful eyes. A vivid purple, like amethysts. Sometimes dark, sometimes bright, but always stunning. Vera never liked looking into them. Not because they made her knees weak, but because there was always the threat that she’d never be able to look away.

As if reading her inner desires, or her difficulty with the changing pace of the music, he chuckled. His lips curved into a half-smile.

Suddenly the music changed again, becoming slow and relaxing. At this, he spun her and caught her in his arms, hugging her from behind.

His grip tightened as if to give her reassurance. And like before, everything about him was just so warm and comforting. Her heart beat strong and steadily. There was no erratic pounding like what she would expect. Rather, it was calm. Soothed by the knowledge of his presence.

Vera reveled in that feeling of absolute serenity. It was dangerous, letting him hold her. As soon as he let her go, this feeling would disappear. But right now, that was just another worry to be drained away.

She turned, then, her face pressing against his chest as she held onto him.

Before she knew it, she’d given up on the dance. They simply shifted in place, their bodies close. And with him still grasping her hand, it was perfect. She felt like the music could last forever and she’d never tire of this, of being here with him.

“Still nervous?” He asked, low enough that only she could hear.

And Vera raised her head. His face was as familiar to her as her own, she felt. So sacred in her mind that it had been permanently seared into her memory. His smell and touch as dear as her own life.

This was not a healthy love. It was every bit as irrational and unreasonable as Vera herself. So very twisted and dishonest.

Vera parted herself from his embrace, already missing him. “It wasn’t necessary. But thank you.” She turned away, suddenly feeling cold. A few moments of silence passed. “Well,” She started awkwardly. ” Let’s have a drink and go, I guess.” Vera began to walk away. But Damien’s hand once again darted out, just like it had back at her dorm room, and caught her before she could take even a step.

“Oh, no you don’t.” He pulled her back. “This is a ball. We’re not leaving after a single dance.” His smile was dauntless. “You asked for this date, remember?” He pinned her to the spot with but a look. “Face it, Vee. You’re mine tonight.”

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