Ultimately, with the exception of the lack of elves, tielfings, dragonborns, and the like, this place wasn’t all that different from his father’s home in Baldur’s Gate. Of course, the memories of his town were tinted by the rose-colored glasses of nostalgia, but if he closed his eyes (or at least the one good one - unfortunately, while the portal had managed to change a lot of their appearances, it didn’t seem to have the ability to grow back eyes), he could almost imagine he was still home. The sounds of the music, lightly covered by the sounds of the surrounding conversation, were the first home he’d ever known, and they were the place where he felt most comfortable. He knew the same couldn’t be said for most of his party, but frankly, to him, this place felt better than the literal hells he’d found himself in when he was trying to catch Karlach.

Speaking of, he thought as his eye raked across the dance floor, Karlach seemed to be having a great time. She’d only been asked to dance once or twice, but even from here, Wyll could see the joy reflected in her eyes as she danced by herself. He smiled, thinking for the thousandth time that he was glad the party had stopped him before he’d killed her, even if it had meant a few awkward months for him. At least all of that was behind him, he thought, smoothing his hair back to assure himself that he didn’t still have horns. Well, it wouldn’t be behind them when they went back, but, he thought for definitely not the first time and probably not the last, if they managed to find a way out, maybe he’d still choose to stay here regardless. He could definitely get used to life in the ton, and at least Mizora wasn’t constantly over his shoulder, whispering for him to do her bidding. For the first time in forever, he felt free.

Free, but quite parched. He looked longingly over at the drink table, where Gale and Shadowheart stood, chatting with another woman who looked mildly terrified. Maybe he should go rescue her, he thought, but then again, maybe it would look too obvious to outsiders that everyone in his party was gathered in the same place. Of the party, he, Gale, and Shadowheart were probably the most likely to be able to fit in (followed by Astarion, if he chose to show up), but he knew that the members of the ton could probably already sense that there was an air of an outsider around them.

Just as he’d firmed his resolve that he would go nowhere near the lemonade table, his eyes flicked back once more to see Shadowheart leaving with the young woman. Very curious, he thought - Shadowheart didn’t seem the one to befriend people in his opinion, but it was possible that she was just using the young woman for information. Giving the mildly terrified look that was still on her face, though, Wyll was sure that she’d be of no use for any of that. But regardless, the table was now clear save for Gale, who seemed to be looking around for someone else to talk to anyway. Wyll gave a large sigh and started walking in that direction.

And promptly walked into someone else.

“Oh, I profusely apologize,” Wyll said, not even realizing who he had crashed into. Luckily, she hadn’t fallen to the ground, at least, but the force of him had to have knocked her back a few steps. “Are you alright?”

The woman looked up at him, and Wyll quickly realized that this was the most beautiful woman that he’d ever seen. Her big, brown doe eyes looked up at him through long lashes, as though she were shy to make his acquaintance, but her voice was steady when she initially spoke. “I think I am unharmed, but I thank you, good sir, for your concern.” She brushed some imagined dirt off the pale peach gown that perfectly complimented her warm amber skin. “Are you alright?”

“But of course,” Wyll said. He stepped in front of her and bowed deeply. “I apologize again, my lady. I didn’t see you there as I turned.”

“It is no matter,” she said with a bright smile, reaching up to make sure her hair clip was still affixed. She touched it a few times with a slight frown on her face. “I apologize for being forward,” she said after a few seconds, “but as there is no mirror, could you tell me if my hair is still presentable? I’m not sure where my sister went,” she said, turning behind her slightly to check, “or else I would ask her, but…”

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“It looks perfect,” Wyll answered, silently wanting to add “as do you,” but knowing that would probably be too forward. “Are you trying to find your sister? I would be happy to be of assistance.”

“I do not need to find her this instant, sir,” she answered. “I merely wondered, for she is often nearby to support me, so it’s curious that she is not here in this moment.”

“Then you are lucky enough to have a sister who cares so deeply about you. Shall I escort you as you try to find her?” Wyll asked, offering the woman his elbow.

“Yes, thank you, at least until the next dance,” she said, gently taking him by the elbow. “I regret to inform you that my dance card has been filled for the evening.”

Wyll nodded, wanting to appear understanding even though the situation was frustrating. He hadn’t seen her before now, so she must not have been here for long, but her dance card was already full? “And I suppose it would be considered uncouth to request a spot on your dance card for the next ball.”

The woman giggled lightly and smiled up at him, and the air around him felt almost electric. “It may be uncouth, my Lord, but I would be happy to reserve the first dance for you.”

Wyll tried his best to keep from grinning like a madman and only halfway succeeded. “And, since we weren’t formally introduced before I just about ran you over,” he paused for a moment when the woman giggled at his joke, “who, may I ask, will I be dancing with?”

She smiled up at him again, and his heart nearly skipped a beat. My gods, he thought - he’d seen several beautiful ladies in his days, but none had ever captured his immediate attention in such a way. “Edwina, my lord,” she answered in her sing-song voice. “Edwina Sharma.”

“Well, Edwina,” Wyll said, feeling the name on his tongue like an exotic wine. “It’s nice to officially name your acquaintance. I’m Wyll, er, Basset,” he said, nearly fumbling over his new name. If there was something in this world that he would actually have a hard time getting used to, it would be that, he thought.”

Edwina smiled brightly at that. “Lord Basset,” she repeated. “I believe I read about you in Lady Whistledown.”

“All lies,” he joked, “unless they said something favorable, in which case I always liked that woman.”

They had nearly crossed the hall as they walked together, but Wyll couldn’t help that the band had finally taken their seats. He wasn’t sure who was going to be dancing with her first, but he wasn’t about to fight them for the honor of her dance. He hadn’t known Edwina for very long, but there was something about her that made Wyll sense that she wouldn’t be up for that sort of competition.

“I completely agree,” Edwina said, drawing him back into the conversation. “That woman has said some nasty things about my sister, Kate, that I must say are complete fallacies. She had the audacity to say that she looked like an overripe banana after our introduction to the ton! Granted, she was wearing yellow…”

Edwina trailed off, and Wyll simply nodded along. He didn’t think it mattered that, in fact, some of the women in yellow dresses that did not match their complexion did, in fact, look rather like the fruit. “How dreadful,” he said, shaking his head as the band started playing their first notes. “And what has she said about you?”

“Hopefully nothing of interest,” said a voice behind them, making Wyll jump slightly. He turned to find Anthony Bridgerton, the man who had saved him from the woods. “My apologies, Lord Basset,” he said with a tiny bow, “but I believe I am the first name on Miss Sharma’s dance card tonight.”

“You are indeed,” Edwina said, dropping Wyll’s arm and making a light curtsy to Anthony. She turned back to Wyll quickly as she grabbed Anthony’s arm. “Thank you for escorting me around the ball, and making sure my hair was still in place.”

Wyll smiled back at her. He felt a slight annoyance with Anthony for making her leave him for the moment, but he tried to tamp it down. Fighting in the middle of a ball would do no good for either of them. “Of course, Miss Sharma,” he said with a light bow. “Hopefully I manage to see you again before the night is over.”

“If not, at the next ball,” she said with a small smile. Then she turned fully toward Anthony and he escorted her to the dance floor. Wyll watched them, still working hard to tamp down his twinge of jealousy. It didn’t matter in the long run, he thought. If Edwina could feel the chemistry between them just as he had, then she could have as many dances as she’d like, and ultimately, she’d still come back to him. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be eagerly awaiting the next ball.