Ilyas felt a slight shock as her words landed on his ears. “Not to worry, the boy is not, yours,” she stated boldly, her words hanging in the air like an unexpected gust of wind. He couldn’t help but let his jaw drop ever so slightly at the audacious accusation. The child, of course, was not his; he wasn’t foolish enough be that stupid in the given situation. However, comment struck him. In the midst of this social gathering, with a multitude of ears tuned into to the conversations around them. What was she thinking? Especially when it was common knowledge that there were some ears present who seemed to possess an uncanny ability to overhear everything.
He instinctively glanced around, assessing the proximity of other guests. There weren’t too many people nearby, and the notion of what others might think tugged at the corners of his mind in a way that didn’t matter much. Yet, as his father’s words from their earlier conversation echoed in his head, he found himself grappling with the choice of whether or not to dignify the accusation with a response. “I trust you shall uphold the honor of our family this evening,” A low groan escaped his lips as the unwelcome thought of this conversation resurfacing with his father crossed his mind. He had believed they had moved beyond this particular issue, and the prospect of revisiting it was far from appealing. Was conversing with his father ever appealing?
“It was most pleasing to make your acquaintance, my lord. If you would excuse me now,” she uttered to him before promptly whisking away the nearest male to the dance floor. Ilyas couldn’t help but respond with a wry sense of humor. “The pleasure is all yours,” he retorted with an exaggerated eye-roll, offering a playful imitation of a bow. With that, he turned swiftly on the heels of his polished leather shoes, leaving the scene behind.
Ilyas found himself in dire need of a drink, a strong one at that. The libations being served at the gathering simply wouldn’t do. Why hadn’t he thought to bring his own flask? In hindsight, he realized that a small dose of liquid courage would be necessary to muster a convincing facade of cheer. Correction: a lot of liquid courage.
Fortune appeared to smile upon him momentarily as he spotted his friend, the dashing Corin Blackwood. They had been schoolmates, and Corin’s presence at this moment felt like a fortuitous twist of fate. Ilyas couldn’t help but lean in slightly, a trace of exasperation on his face. “Can you please enlighten me as to why I find myself here right now?” he implored, a hint of humor playing at the corners of his lips. “Please, shed some wisdom on how this is supposed to be good for me?”
@Jass Albina
@DandelionKate Corin