Ariel stopped in her tracks, her eyes widening as she recognized the man from table twelve.
Not only was he several inches shorter than Taylor, but he also had a considerably rounder build. The man greeted the priestess with an enchanting smile, running a hand through his thinning hair.
"Yes, that was me. I wished to speak with you, but was regretfully detained," he said, his voice smooth and charming.
Leroy stood nearby, a wide grin stretching across his face as he enjoyed the priestess’s discomfort. The man extended his hand to Taylor, his voice dripping with courtesy. "But I have managed to find you now; would you do me the honor of this dance?"
Ariel raised an eyebrow. "Service is definitely the right word," she thought, bemused.
Taylor opened her mouth to respond, but no words emerged. Shock—perhaps even a hint of humility—seemed to paralyze her usual fiery retorts. The monk, perceiving her plight, decided to intervene.
"Well, I’m sure she would," Leroy began, pulling the priestess to his side in one swift motion, "but you see, she’s already promised this dance to me."
Taylor blinked, her cheeks flushed with a rush of color. The man looked to her for confirmation, and she managed a quick, apologetic smile.
"Sorry," she said.
With a frown, the man watched as the priestess was led away to the dance floor by Leroy. Ariel moved back through the crowd, seeking a better vantage point. She positioned herself near Max and scanned the far end of the room. There, she spotted John and Mandy in the corner, each giving a brief wave to the group of elderly women now swarming the edge of the dance floor.
Across from them, Ariel observed Leroy guiding Taylor to the center of the floor. The monk wore a satisfied smile, while the priestess looked distinctly annoyed. The band began to play the first notes of a waltz—long and haunting. The tempo had slowed dramatically from the fast-paced songs that had preceded it, and couples began to glide across the floor in elegant, measured steps.
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"It's the waltz," a voice suddenly explained.
Ariel blinked and turned to Max, who stood beside her.
"Oh, is that what it is?" she replied thoughtfully, catching sight of John and Mandy spinning gracefully by, both with light smiles on their faces.
A slight, nagging curiosity grew in the back of Ariel's mind. Unsure of her own boldness, she looked up at Max.
"Do you dance, Max?"
His tall frame shifted, and in the dim lighting, Ariel could almost swear she saw a rare smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"Not often," he answered after a moment.
Ariel allowed herself a small smile at the thought of Jasper's assistant moving through the sea of love-struck couples.
"Perhaps Taylor will ask you to dance later," Ariel suggested, taking advantage of his good humor.
Max glanced down at her, his eyebrow rising slightly. "I would decline. There is only one person in this world who could ask and expect the answer to be yes."
Ariel blinked, surprised by his cryptic response. It was as vague and guarded as most of what Max said, but this time she felt she had glimpsed a fragment of his personal life, something known only to Jasper and perhaps this mysterious person he spoke of.
Max’s face relaxed from its smile, and his gaze grew distant. Sensing his withdrawal, Ariel decided to leave him to his thoughts and murmured, "I think I’m going to find something to drink..." At his small nod, she slipped away, leaving him behind with his thoughts.
Ariel navigated the edge of the dance floor, occasionally catching glimpses of Leroy and Taylor among the couples, their mutual gazes less hostile than usual. Smiling to herself, she continued her search. After pushing her way through the dense crowd for a while, Ariel realized just how parched she was. She hoped to locate Mr. Warner soon.
Surely he found something to drink...
The air was charged with excitement as people around her buzzed about the imminent crowning of Yvonne. Ariel glanced at her three Magnolias with a frown.
"It's probably for the best," she mused. "It would be awkward if I were chosen as Yvonne with Noah already crowned Mr. Marlowe."
As Ariel continued to navigate the throng, she found herself increasingly disoriented. She stopped and stood on tiptoe, trying to get a better view of her surroundings in hopes of spotting a food stand, but to no avail. The crowd around her was too dense, obscuring her view of anything beyond the heads and shoulders of those in front of her.
Feeling frustrated and somewhat trapped, Ariel began to push through the crowd with renewed determination, simply trying to escape the sea of bodies. Gradually, she made progress as the crowd thinned in the direction she was headed. Emerging from the press, the buzz and heat of the festival grounds gave way to a quieter, open space off to the side.