The ballroom was stifling. The overwhelming scent of perfume lingered thickly in the air, mingling with the sharp tang of sweat as couples twirled across the marble floor. Madelynn Hawtrey stood to the side of the dance floor, watching the glittering parade of nobility with a sharp eye and an even sharper appetite. A small platter of cakes sat unattended on a nearby table, and she took the opportunity to shove another lemon tart into her mouth before anyone noticed.

The air was alive with an unspoken tension as men and women exchanged false compliments and empty promises- something Madelynn was wholly uninterested in.

“Lady Madelynn, is it?” A deep voice broke through her thoughts, startling her mid-bite. She turned, cheeks still puffed with the evidence of her snack, to find a man standing before her. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed in the gilded finery of a high-ranking lord. His features were handsome in a boring, predictable way, and the smile he wore was undoubtedly rehearsed.

She swallowed hastily, the sweetness catching in her throat. “It is,” she choked out, more curtly than she should have.

The Young Lord chuckled, undeterred by the crumbs littering her cheeks. “I must say, your family’s reputation precedes you. The youngest Hawtrey, finally gracing us with her presence.” His tone was smooth, practiced, boastful even as he gave a low greeting bow. But, his eyes flicked over her in a way that made her skin crawl.

Madelynn raised a brow, brushing crumbs from her gloves. “How fortunate for you,” she said flatly, and then, without waiting for a response, turned on her heel and walked away.

She could feel his bewildered gaze burning into the back of her head, but she didn’t care. Let him think her rude. Let him whisper about her to his equally as insufferable friends. She hadn’t asked to be paraded around like a prize heifer. Her father was trying to sell her off, but he’d have to do it without her cooperation because the Men of Court were nearly as terrible as the Ladies of Court.

“Madelynn!” Her mother’s sharp tone stopped her before she could make her escape entirely. Lady Hawtrey approached, her emerald gown glinting in the light of the chandeliers, and fixed her youngest daughter in place with a disapproving look. “Must you be so difficult?”

Madelynn huffed, crossing her arms. “He’ll survive, Mother!” she said with grandeur. “He’s a Lord, I’m sure he’ll find some bimbo to enlighten with his presence.”

Lady Hawtrey pinched the bridge of her nose and tapped her foot, clearly agitated. “This isn’t about him. It’s about you and your…” she motioned to Madelynn, her posture poor and her crumb-ridden face unsightly- “your appearance. The Hawtrey name is an important name, and your actions reflect on all of us.”

Madelynn scrubbed at her cheeks with her white gloves, staining them yellow with the leftover sugar. “If my actions are enough to tarnish an entire family name, then maybe I’m not really the problem here.” Madelynn reached for a passing tray of cakes, but her mother slapped her hand away.

“Madelynn!” she bit out, catching her daughter’s hand and pulling her aside, away from the crowd of potential gossipers. “You do not have to enjoy the company of the men who pursue you, but you do have to endure it.”

Madelynn scowled, scoffing as she dropped her voice to avoid drawing any further attention. “For what? So I can be sold off to become some other man’s trophy?” She shook her head at the idea, a shiver running up her spine. “I’d rather be rude and die a spinster.”

Her mother’s lips pressed into a thin line. “You may find this amusing now, but you’ll soon understand the importance of alliances. The world isn’t as kind to women without prospects as you seem to believe.”

“Oh, Mother,” Madelynn drawled in a condescending tone. “Do I truly strike you as one who cares much for kindness?”

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“You will when you grow old and lose your beauty.” She reached out and twirled a piece of Madelynn’s curly black hair around her finger. “Having a husband isn’t a bad thing, it’s security.”

Madelynn huffed out a disbelieving laugh. “Security?” she said sarcastically. “Is that what Father told you when he put Irene and Lydia in you before your marriage?” She raised her eyebrows in a challenging, but knowing look.

“Oh, Lord help you.” Her mother shook her head, pressing her hand against her forehead. “I want nothing but the happiest life for you, my sweet girl.” She pulled Madelynn toward her and wrapped her arms around her in a warm hug. “But you have to understand the ways of the world.”

Madelynn patted her mother on the back, suddenly feeling even more out of her element. “Understood,” she said plainly, then stepped out of the hug. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I do believe I see some snacks that need ravished.”

With that, she quickly departed from her mother, fearing an emotional conversation was building between them. She’d rather face that tonight, with a full belly, in the comfort of her own home. She wasn’t even sure who was hosting the festivities of the day, taking place in the royal castle’s great hall. It was her debut as a debutante for the season, but her heart was absolutely not in it. She’d rather be at home, in the solitude of her room, painting or reading or day dreaming or sleeping or dead. Anything other than here.

She wandered aimlessly around the ballroom, scoping out an easy exit. Her basil colored dress was brimming with uncomfortable things: jewels under her arms, rubbing incessantly, lace down the skirt, which she kept tripping on, and a neckline that threatened to expose her at any moment. This party was quickly becoming more overwhelming than she’d initially prepared for.

Her eyes landed on an exit, a seemingly endless hallway of opportunity. She swept herself out of the ballroom, her skirts rustling with every step. The air was cooler in the quiet of the corridors, and she inhaled deeply, relieved to be away from the suffocating chatter and scrutiny.

Her footsteps echoed against the stone floor, and the faint hum of music slowly faded behind her. She walked on and on until the hall came to an end with an open balcony. The cool air of the evening already had the party fading from her mind like a distant memory. She stepped out onto the balcony and let out a sigh that let her shoulders relax.

“You’re a bit far from the party.”

An unfamiliar voice made Madelynn jump, and she whipped around to find, yet another, man standing before her. She closed her eyes, cursing at him internally. Was she ever going to be able to find some alone time now that she was eligible? “So are you,” she replied, her irritation evident in her tone.

The man smiled, dimples emerging on his cheeks, and leaned against the wall, just outside the opening of the balcony. “Touche. However, I’m not exactly an eligible Lord searching for the favor of a Young Lady.” He motioned to himself, and Madelynn realized his uniform. He was a soldier, probably on guard for the night.

Suddenly, she felt a blush slithering up her throat at the absurdity of her sarcastic retort. “Oh,” she said softly, trying to stifle the smile creeping across her lips. “My apologies, I thought you were a Young Man.”

He chuckled at that, looking down at himself. Then his eyes snapped back up to her, his gaze taunting. “You know, I should escort you back to the party. I’m sure they’re all losing their minds looking for you right now.”

“Ha!” Madelynn laughed out, feeling seen for the first time all night under his playful scrutiny. “I’d be less surprised to find them celebrating my unexpected disappearance. Apparently, my appearance is offensive.” She held her arms out, showing off the unsightliness her mother was referring to earlier.

He held up his hands defensively. “I’m not one to comment on appearances, but I can tell by your personality that you’re a real charmer.” He cringed, then shot her another one of his dashing smiles.

Madelynn bit her lip and leaned against the balustrade, resting her chin in her hand. He was handsome, and not in the practiced, polished sort of way. His white-blonde hair was reminiscent of fallen snow and his eyes were a wild blue, nearly silver color. He had the shadow of stubble across his sharp jawline and a smile that was more charming than any Young Lord’s she’d seen that night. His easy, lazy posture was endearing, and the way he looked at her, like he saw her instead of her last name, left her feeling more lovely than any empty comment she could receive.

“Anyway,” the soldier said, standing straight and taking a few steps toward her. “It was lovely to meet you, Lady…” He drew out the word, and stayed mid-bow as he waited for her response.

“Madelynn,” she said through an unquenchable smile, curtsying at him.

“Callum,” he responded, standing once again. “I hope the rest of your evening is at least a little bit less awful than it was before I graced you with my presence.”

He shot her a playful wink, then turned on his heel and strode down the hall away from her.