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beginning of Second dance
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Belle couldn’t help but to curls her lips in annoyance,. Orpheus had bypassed her subtle inquiry about his drinking with a dismissive silence that did not sit well with her inquisitive nature. She found it irksome when her questions were brushed aside, left to dangle like unresolved sonnets in the midst of a captivating play.
What vexed her even more was his audacious act of revealing her little ruse with the dance cards. To preserve her solitude amidst the dance, Belle had resorted to an imaginative strategy. With clever artistry, she’d adorned her dance card with the names of obscure fictional characters, adding a touch of romantic whimsy with the inclusion of “Atlas.” her dearest friend. Her intention had been to dissuade eager suitors, and thus, she had met the gallant advances of hopeful gentlemen with a glare that could freeze an English winter. She did not want to look approachable, because she was not- she was everything but approachable for men who wished to court or dance and she did not want to give them any ideas.
Svet, her ever-loyal cousin, had gallantly intercepted the swains, offering her hand in lieu of Belle’s. This clever ploy had maintained the tranquil bubble of her solitude amidst the dance’s elegant chaos. After all, her French heritage had afforded her the liberty that her family did not know most of England nobility if they were not popular with a name for themselves, a mark, if they were unpopular then of course the french would never hear of them meaning her family would not, thus she could always tell them that the other names on her dance card were English nobility or nobles from other nations- they would believe, as it was believable.
However, Belle had not anticipated Orpheus’s presence at the soirée. Her plan to employ fictitious characters as dance partners had backfired, for Orpheus was a man of letters, one who knew his Dickens from his Austen. In this instance, she lamented that his literary predilections had proven most unfortunate, leaving her with a conundrum she had not foreseen.
Belle had never thought she would lament that another person was a lover of the arts- of books like she was but Orpheus seemed to do the impossible. “Has anyone ever told you that you were frustrating?” Belle asked matter of factually, "Is there truly no other women in the soirée you can dance with? " it was a new seasoning, which meant that many news girls had debuted, meaning there were a lot of fine candidates for Orpehus to choose from, one’s that were not her. Thus, why did she have to be one that he chose to dance with?
She curled her lips once more when he extended her hands, looking at the crowd as they stared at them. She was thinking of her choices, she could simply find a way to leave him there, go on her own way- maybe accidentally spill something and then would need to change or that she had to due her ‘lady’ business in the chamberpots so many great excuses she could think off. She looked at him, ready to answer, but he had said something that made Belle pause. He would answer her inquiries about him and his sensibility, was Belle truly that curious? His behavior, his intoxication and why Belle had noticed a strange emotion on his face was truly not her business, she should not care really, she should not and curiosity did kill the cat, no? It was a good thing though that satisfaction brought it back- something Belle needed, the feeling of being satisfied and also that Belle, Belle was not a cat.
She gently extended her hand forward, giving it to him, and giving a small forced curtsy as they went to the dance flow. "Now tell me, why did you drink quite a lot? I did not deem you as much of a drinker,"r Belle told him as they danced, her steps graceful and measured, though sometimes it seemed that she could not keep up with Orpheus as he was quite the dancer, he really was like namesake and Belle wondered if his story, his life would end as unfortunate as his namesake or he would
be a happy ending Orpheus. The delicate touch of her hand in his was as the fluttering wings of a moth, one that drew to a flickering flame. She had heard whispers in the crowd, quite a lot, but Belle was not one for caring for mindless gossip, so she gazed at Orpheus, waiting for his response.
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@DandelionKate ~ Orpheus