Arabella’s cheeks, abdon and lungs hurt from laughing or attempting to stifle laughter from ti to ti.
Remus’s legs twisted as he tried to copy the n around him. Many tis, his feet would get stuck on her gown, forcing him to let go of her in order to reclaim his balance without dragging her along.
"Why do people do this?" I thought this was a party!" his eyebrows remained furrowed, earning him the most adorable of concentrated expressions.
"It is a party!" she chuckled, "Why do you ask?"
"Then why are people torturing each other with this strenuous activity?" he muttered.
"This isn’t torture," her laugh was warm, "This is dancing. Do wolf people not dance?"
"We dance!" he finally looked up at her, but made sure to root his feet in one spot before allowing them out of his sight, "But we have a real dance that was passed down by our ancestors!" the boy looked down montarily, then his eyes flickered back on her imdiately, "Unless father and Cherreka are wrong again, and that dance isn’t actually ours just like the caverns!" her half asked, eyes wide as saucers.
"Well, the good news is, no one will try to fight you in order to reclaim that dance," she smiled.
Her beam dimd significantly upon noting Reubon standing right next to her husband. Neither of them looked particularly miffed, but it didn’t seem as though they were having the ti of their lives either.
In all cases, Arabella had wished to speak with her father, face to face, one more ti.
From the mont she’d walked by him as the altar was still away.
"Are you alright?" Remus brought her back into reality.
"Yes! Yes, of course, but... There is soone I must speak with,"
She offered him a hand which he grasped without a fuss to follow her lead towards Silas and Reubon.
"You’ve always had a habit of getting attached to people you shouldn’t mingle with,"
It was Reubon that had broken the suffocating silence between them, his eyes firmly on Remus who ducked behind her figure.
"People you deed unworthy, yes, of course, I rember," she spoke softly.
"But a mutt? I must say, you are reaching new lows even for you...," he looked to the side.
"His na is Remus, and you’ve never thought any high of to make claims about my decline, father," she pressed on the last word of her sentence.
"I am surprised you still call that,"
Her face alone did not betray her state. Indeed, a feeble, formal smile was on display. Very similar to the polite ones Persephone always gave her guests. Especially ones she did not appreciate all that well.
But to Silas, it was a lot easier to identify her feelings through the beating rate of her heart.
Quite agitated it was...
"May we have a mont, please?" Arabella looked him in the eyes.
The vampire only took a few seconds to consider her request before nodding. Although he did not seem eager to oblige, he made no complaints.
In the end, all he had to do was extend his hearing if sothing felt wrong.
Remus, on the other hand, took a mont to comprehend the happening before running behind Silas.
"Will you dance with ?" Arabella’s gemstones did not stray away from her father’s.
"Asking a man to dance," he half asked, an eyebrow raised.
"Is that yet another low standard on the imaginary wall you uphold for people that constantly disappoint you?"
Nevertheless, it was Reubon that offered his hand to her.
"You’ve changed quite a bit since the last ti we’ve t," unlike Silas, Reubon kept holding one of her hands as they danced, refusing to perform an umbrarian dance.
"I’d like to think I’ve changed a lot but... There was a mont earlier during which the old slipped back into place," she gave his hand a little squeeze as they swirled together, "When you stood up during the ceremony. The thought of ever going back to that miserable place with you scared to no end," her voice kept steady, not wavering for a second.
"Miserable, you say?" he tilted his head, "That aches,"
"No, it doesn’t ache you, father," she shook her head slowly, "It irks you. There is a difference,"
The tast of scoffs escaped him after which, Reubon took a mont and kept his tongue still in his mouth before the next thought hit his voice box, "I thought you were dead," his features no longer rendered a composed expression, just the illusion of calm.
"I had a near death experience. That was all,"
"It upset ," he said.
"Yes, I am sure the prince would have been quite upset with you had I died here instead of his dungeons," Arabella inhaled deeply.
"You know, he was very impressed with you. He still is," Reubon’s eyebrows rose up his forehead for a mont, "In fact, he even expressed the wish to make you a princess. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?"
"A princess?" Arabella’s eyes widened, in a clearly exaggerated manner to feign surprise, "Is that a new torture device he plans on subjecting to?" Her deanor recovered her initial outlook after that.
"You have changed a lot, Arabella," he shook his head.
"You’ve said before but, you know what? I am just now realizing that I haven’t changed at all. I’ve just never been this loud about who I am before,"
"Yes, to choose the title of Lady over princess is proof enough that you’re still the sa old silly girl. That was why I never allowed you to make any important decisions. It was always for your own good, but you lived in those silly dreams, and you could never see things my way," that was the mont Reubon’s mask cracked a little. The facade he’d been putting up slipping, "It still isn’t too late to co ho, you know?" his grasp around her tightened.
"How many tis do I need to prove to you that aside from my appearance, I didn’t take a single thing after you, not your over inflated sense of pride and ego, not your incessant need to chase after fortune or titles... That might make silly, but I am delighted to know that it might give a chance at escaping your cursed fate, Reubon Sterling,"
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