Dance 2: with Phoebe Willoughby
Truly, this day was unfolding as a series of unfortunate decisions, each worse than the last. Don’t get him wrong; Ambrose had a knack for stumbling into misadventures and was practically a magnet for trouble. Perhaps he thrived in the chaos of it all. But… well… It wasn’t as if he actively sought out bad ideas, they simply had a peculiar way of finding him. Throughout his life, Ambrose had learned to roll with the punches and live in the chaotic moment that often ensued. And usually, he did quite well.
However, today was different. His usual laissez-faire attitude and lack of forward thinking when caught off guard had led him into a particularly inconvenient predicament. Here he was, about to be dancing with a beautiful woman, yet unable to escape the nagging discomfort of shoes that simply did not fit. He couldn’t help but wonder if he had somehow invited this calamity upon himself, whether by some cosmic joke or simply by virtue of his careless charm. Regardless, it appeared that he was on a collision course with his own downfall, and there was no turning back now.
Well, it was far too late to worry about the shoes now. Instead, Ambrose wore a faint smile, though there was much more beneath the surface. Her fixation on his footwear had taken him somewhat by surprise; he had hoped his attire would escape such scrutiny. Nevertheless, he decided to steer the conversation in a different direction. Or… attempt.
“Perhaps you’ll come to realize that my mind holds a variety of intriguing information, my lady, information that might pique your interest far more than any detail of my attire,” he remarked, his tone lightly teasing, as if to suggest that she might be examining him more closely than just his shoes.
At the very least; if his words didn’t serve as deflection enough; this dance hopefully would. Well… “hopefully” was the operative word as she found a way to include yet another playful statement about the shoes on his feet. Ambrose couldn’t help but find slight amusement (and perhaps a little worry) in her continued fascination with his shoes. It was an odd fixation, to be sure. He couldn’t help but wonder why she was so fixated on them. Had she, by some stroke of bad luck, had a dalliance with the prince previously and noticed these shoes? It seemed highly unlikely, but in the world of the ton, anything was possible.
Ambrose knew all too well how some of the ladies of the ton could become obsessed with the Prince, practically worshipping the ground he walked on. And alongside worshiping the ground - perhaps the man’s shoes were of interest to some? Fashion, after all, was a sort of currency in itself. This obsession some held, however, was a notion Ambrose did not quite… understand, though he refrained from speaking ill of the future king. Nevertheless, he couldn’t deny that Prince Magnus was not among his favorite individuals at court. But such thoughts were best left for another time.
As the dance was about to commence, Ambrose made a conscious effort to focus on the moment, putting aside any lingering thoughts about his dance partner’s fixation on his shoes. He was here to enjoy himself and, hopefully, engage in an intriguing conversation. After all, a waltz was as much about conversation as it was about movement… and that would be important seeing as he was already uneased by the idea of having to move with these clothes.
Standing across from her, Ambrose positioned himself for the beginning of the dance, the space between them just right for polite conversation. He leaned in slightly, his lips curving into a playful smile, and spoke in a voice meant only for her ears. “Tell me, my lady, do you often inquire about your potential dance partner’s shoes? Is there some hidden meaning in one’s choice of footwear that has eluded me? Perhaps you may enlighten me? What do your shoes tell me about you?” Perhaps it was yet another diversion… or perhaps it was his curiosity on why she had noticed far too quickly that he was out of place within the ton.
Despite this, with a sly grin, he continued, “May I share a secret with you? I may have arrived fashionably late to this event, and in the rush, I neglected to learn even your name. Except, of course, that I seem to have an uncanny knack for finding myself in your delightful company.”
“And, besides my wardrobe, are there any other burning questions you wish to ask me, my lady? I promise, I may have more captivating answers than those related to my attire.” Ambrose maintained a playful and flirtatious tone, genuinely curious about her thoughts and interests. Though his playfulness dropped slightly at the start of the music; his mind immediately focused on something that she herself had been so fascinated upon earlier.
Now, it was time to play the game of the ton: maintaining a look of composure even while walking a thin line between keeping up appearances and the risk of falling apart. Ambrose had danced this dance many times before, but tonight, with these oversized shoes and the lady’s curious fixation, he couldn’t help but feel that this particular dance might be a bit more challenging than usual.
@CrazyCaliope
