Everything was going according to plan, and Dylan hated it.
The evening was as stiff as his stepmother’s bodice, and Dylan briefly wondered what would happen if he not-so-accidentally placed one of the festive candles too close to the curtains. It would add some excitement to the party, at any rate, even more so due to the risk of bodily harm.
There were too many diplomats and nobles around, though, and Dylan wouldn’t risk something so stupid. If his father had been here, there would have been some sort of entertainment, like magicians or trapeze artists or even some bards that could play more energetic music than the court’s string musicians. The most Dylan could do to liven up the party would be to either slip something unexpected into the food dishes or to risk offending a noble lady by stepping on her toes during a dance.
A pretty blonde caught his eye, and Dylan chose the latter option.
The pair was about thirty seconds into the dance when Dylan pretended to stumble and stomp on his partner’s expensive shoes. She winced and gave him a sharp look, which he returned with an apologetic one, but she said nothing and continued the dance. Dylan waited all but fifteen seconds this time around to step on the other foot.
He hadn’t expected the blonde to hook her other foot behind his knee and send him tumbling to the ground on his backside.
“How clumsy of me,” she said, reaching down to help Dylan onto his feet. “My sincerest apologies.”
He stared at her glinting blue eyes with his own, and decided that her apology wasn’t sincere in the slightest. He returned her smile with a smirk and said, “No worries at all. I deserved that for my earlier blunder.”
Her smile grew at that statement, and they resumed their dance, Dylan being more than careful about where his feet trod as he decided that, perhaps, this evening wouldn’t be so normal at all.