Madelynn returned to the great hall, unable to contain her smile as she thought over her conversation with the soldier- Callum. He was charming in all the right ways, and those eyes. She bit her lip, thinking back to the way he’d flicked his gaze to her before he said something devious. That was a man, not one of the little boys who spun on the dancefloor as she entered the ballroom.
Immediately, all the giddiness drained from her, and she remembered why she’d left in the first place. This was exhausting. The dancing, the loud music, the forced interactions- why couldn’t people just be themselves and fall in love naturally?
“Where have you been?” her mother snapped as soon as she entered the room.
Madelynn rolled her eyes, the weight for her to find a husband suddenly feeling so much heavier on her shoulders. She scanned the room, knowing she would find no one with the same spark Callum had. In fact, she didn’t see a single man in the room who didn’t make her feel like vomiting. “Even Ladies require a moment’s reprieve, Mother.” She shot a pleasant smile up to her mother before departing, finding an empty chair to sit in.
She watched as couples spun and stepped and spun and stepped, dipped then spun some more. She couldn’t help but feel a ping of jealousy at how happy they all looked, even if it was superficial. Why couldn’t she just enjoy the moment and let a handsome, young, wealthy man sweep her off her feet? Her mother had always taught her that love came first when searching for a match, but that resolve quickly dissipated once her two older sisters married down, and she realized there would be no dowry sprouting from their exchanges of vows.
Then, it was all on Madelynn to find someone to supply the family with the riches they thought they deserved for creating decent at best looking daughters.
When a kind looking woman with a tray of wine walked past, Madelynn reached up and plucked one off the tray, downing it immediately. Dammit, she didn’t want the security of a husband or the lonely life of a housewife, she wanted someone who was fun- who wanted her, not just her body or her family’s bloodline.
Madelynn sighed and sat forward, resting her elbows on her knees. Just then, a young man in a nice suit came to stand next to her.
“Good evening, Lady Madelynn,” he said, bowing low to her. She didn’t look at him. He chuckled awkwardly before continuing. “Are you available for the next dance?”
“No,” she deadpanned, the irritation in her belly rumbling. She didn’t want to dance, didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to listen to another man ramble on about how great he was or how beautiful she was. She wanted a connection, she wanted-
Her eyes widened as she watched the men walk through the great doors. There were two of them, the taller of the two with slightly broader shoulders and a slightly cockier walk. He adorned black hair, tousled around as if he’d just finished bathing, and stunningly golden eyes. The other- his white blonde hair now slicked back in a finished, but still oddly out of place look, and his blue eyes as silver as the chalice still in Madelynn’s hand. They walked closely with one another, their heads inclined to speak quietly amongst themselves.
Maybe her mother was right, maybe she did need the Lord’s help, because as she stood and made her way to the nearest tray of alcohol, she nearly tripped over her gown due to her inability to pull her eyes from him. Callum was beautiful.
Madelynn picked up another chalice of wine and took a long sip, the bitter taste drawing her attention just a bit.
A Young Man walked past, and her hand shot out, gripping his wrist. He turned toward her, baffled by her forwardness. But, her attention was elsewhere- definitely not on him. She leaned in closer so she could whisper to him. “Who are those men?” she asked, suddenly feeling like her earlier interaction may have not been what it seemed.
The Young Man frowned a bit, but followed her gaze then let out a deep chuckle. “Oh, that’s Generals Callum Whitlock and Casimir Aldrich. I believe they just got back from a campaign in Korner. There’s…” Madelynn nodded absentmindedly as he rattled on.
She’d stopped listening, and just stared- wide eyed- as the men strode through the crowd, men and women parting for them to walk past. They stuck out like titans in a swarm of dwarves. General Callum Whitlock. Madelynn blinked, trying to process the thought, as Callum’s eyes scanned the crowd. Then suddenly, his eyes locked with hers and a slow, deliberate, smirk pulled at one corner of his lips.
She felt like a bird with clipped wings- stuck in place while the world spun around her. He raised an eyebrow and she quickly dropped the Young Man’s wrist and brought her hand up to offer a small, awkward wave. The smirk on Callum’s face spread into a full smile, dimples and all, and he shook his head at her before turning back to his conversation as if nothing had happened.
But she continued to stare, unable to tear her gaze away, until the other one- Casimir Aldrich- locked eyes with her. He didn’t smile, didn’t seem to acknowledge her existence at all, aside from the slight squinting of his eyes. His eyes swirled with molten gold, and the intensity of his gaze ripped Madelynn from her trance. The feeling of his eyes on her lingered- a glance that felt heavier than it should have, like he saw more of her than she could. She took a step back and looked down at her glass of wine before downing that one as well. And another.
She’d never been much of a Lady, anyway.
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She took a deep breath, resting her palm against her tummy. She’d just bantered back and forth with General Callum Whitlock. She wanted to vomit, she’d never hear the end of this if her mother found out.
Her head swirled as she made her way back to the chair she’d left and debated sitting back down and letting herself waste away until her mother came and dragged her home. But- no! She was young, she was free. She should enjoy herself while she could!
Madelynn puffed out her chest, her decision final. Tipsy or not, she was a Young Lady and she couldn’t let General Callum Whitlock occupy her thoughts all night. She’d drive herself mad.
She took a step forward instead, flattening her dress as well as she could and making herself look as presentable as possible. Perhaps a young Lord would ask her to dance and then she’d have no choice but to drag her mind away from General Callum-
“It’s a wonderful evening, isn’t it?”
Her thoughts were promptly interrupted by a Young Lord. His hair was combed back neatly, minus a hair or two that had gone astray, likely from all the stepping and spinning he’d done, and his two front teeth stuck out past his bottom lip. Madelynn blinked at him. “No, it is not,” she said, but grabbed his outstretched hand as he dipped into a bow. “But it couldn’t possibly get any worse, right?” she called, a bit too loud, as she dragged him into the middle of the dance floor.
He smiled, or grimaced, depending on the circumstances, but Madelynn promptly decided that he would be a great distraction from her impending thoughts of doom and General Callum Whitlock. She shook her head, waiting for the next song to start.
Then, just as an awkward silence was falling over the two of them, an upbeat tune started, the band prancing around on stage as they strummed their sitars and trumpeted their flutes.
Madelynn knew the dances, technically, but she never understood how everyone knew which dance was for which song or how they set the pace, so she just lazily followed her partner’s steps as he chose to ramble on about his hunting exploits and the breeding lineage of his prized stallion. Madelynn found that it was easier to ignore him if she stared at the large mole in the center of his cheek.
He asked her questions but didn’t wait for responses, not that she would’ve given them anyway. She just smiled tightly, tighter with every word he chose to subject her to. Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore, she sighed loudly and looked away from him as they continued to step and spin, and her eyes immediately landed on Callum. She wasn’t looking for him, he just happened to be where her eyes landed.
He was leaning against the wall, a mug of ale in his hand, as Casimir spoke in his ear. Callum’s eyes were already on her when hers locked on him. Had he been watching her? She could feel herself flushing, and he raised an eyebrow, that same cocky, knowing smirk gracing his lips. He motioned toward her, her dance partner, then himself, and made a face before rolling his eyes playfully.
She bit back a laugh at the idea of him on the dancefloor with her. It would be heaven compared to… whatever she was subjecting herself to now. Her dance partner noticed her laugh and stopped talking for just a moment, just long enough for him to fumble his step, knocking his shoe against Madelynn’s shin.
She groaned and doubled over slightly against the pain, shooting him a hateful glare. “Really?” she whispered tersely. He just shrugged at her and she furrowed her brow, scowling at him. “I danced through multiple different renditions of how stupendously joyful you were when your horse was born, but you can’t keep your composure over a giggle?”
The song ended and she dropped his hand, taking a step back. “I’m sure your horse finds you very interesting, My Lord, but I must depart from you now as, unfortunately, I do not share the same sentiment.”
She turned away from him and stomped back to her abandoned chair, letting herself fall back into it before rubbing her sore shin. What a complete blockhead.
She shook her head, trying to regain her composure, but when she scanned the crowd again, she found Callum completely invested in his conversation once again. Of course he was. He wasn’t there for her, and there was no reason for her belly to be churning at his distinct lack of attention toward her, but she could still feel the dread spreading through her body anyway.
Lord, she was drunk. She realized she needed to leave- only partly because of the drunkenness- but because she just didn’t belong in this world. Her poorly constructed facade was failing, and she could feel the sting of tears behind her eyes as she realized that her happiness would never be quite as happy as the young couples around her. She really was drunk.
Honestly, was there something wrong with her? Was she such a misfit for just wanting something different? There was no chance every single other girl here wanted exactly the same thing, right? Even General Callum Whitlock, as much as he stood out, still belonged. It wasn’t fair how easily he seemed to belong, while she just fumbled through every interaction like a jester at the wrong court.
She pushed herself to stand, then swayed a bit, and placed a hand against her forehead. The exit was only a few strides away, but even those short steps felt like a mountain’s climb as she stumbled through the crowd. They didn’t part for her. She wasn’t anything special, was she? It was foolish to think someone like Callum—so important, so confident—might be interested in a third daughter of a semi-important family that barely cared for her.
As she finally exited the room, she felt like she could breathe again. She turned and took in the view one last time. Next time, she decided, she would try harder to just be normal.
Be normal and stop over thinking things. Those were the instructions she repeated to herself as she finally turned toward the exit. Her gaze snagged on Callum one last time. His eyes caught hers, just for a moment, before she looked away. She didn’t acknowledge him. She couldn’t. Not now, not with everything spinning out of her grasp.
She found her mother’s handmaiden, Miriam, just outside, waiting by the carriage where they had left her.
“Tell my mother I’m going home,” she mumbled out at the older woman, scrubbing a hand over her face. “I’m ill.”
She didn’t wait for the, likely slightly degrading, response before stepping into her carriage. Her own handmaiden, Elise, was across from her in a second, a bottle of water in her hand. She offered it silently to Madelynn and she accepted it gratefully.
“Ill?” Elise questioned, raising her eyebrows suspiciously.
Madelynn couldn’t suppress the smile that overwhelmed her at the stupidity of her decisions for the night. “Too much cake and too much wine, Elise. Just… too much of everything tonight.”
Elise sighed, nodding knowingly, with maybe a touch of disappointment.
Madelynn handed the water back to her and let her head slump against the hard wooden wall of the cabin. The ride to Daam- her hometown- was long, an hour at least. She had time to sleep and not reflect on her actions. Tomorrow, she’d try again—to be normal, to belong. Tonight, though, she’d let herself disappear.