Royally Kissed | ✓

21; the deluxe dinner

An involuntary frisson shot through the length of her spine when in came a dapper young man, looming tall with semi-formality and surefooted strides. He hadn't noticed Paige yet as the butler occupied him in assisting him from removing his gray overcoat which seemed to be designed with faded plaid patterns.

Once fully peeled, it revealed his black sweater which he wore over a light-blue button down, only its collar peeking through the sweater's neckline. Both were tucked beneath his dark chocolate pants, before the latter ended towards his brown leather shoes.

He looked up, his eyes quickly locating her dumbfounded state in the middle of the foyer, before his mouth parted just a little bit. Paige held her breath as she slowly met him halfway, even as her knees turned flimsy. It was only she could do not to crumble in front of him.

"Hi," she said with a little more courage when they closed their gaps together. She stopped her hands from reaching up to his brushed-up dark blonds, styled into a neat heap of debonairness that revealed his smooth forehead.

He blinked when he seemed to realize that she was speaking in English. "Wow," he mumbled, almost like a wispy breath, with Paige swearing that her cheeks flamed with redness. Arthur quickly shook his head. "I'm sorry, I−" he dragged his tongue across his lip, "it's just..."

Paige bit her lip in uncertainty, glimpsing at him with a lopsided smile. "It doesn't really suits me, does it? It's the best I can manage. I mean, I−I can change if it seems too−"

"What?" He widened his eyes before clasping his fingers around his wrist. "No! You must be joking. You look...amazing."

Her lips twitched, then gave off a timid smile. "You don't look so bad yourself."

Arthur slipped his fingers through hers, only to lift it up and press a kiss against her knuckles before a smirk made its way onto his face. "Thank you. You'd best believe that I had a hard time choosing what to wear, knowing your grandma..."

She rolled her eyes in amusement. "That's impossible. You always look well-dressed and you handle yourself pretty good. Don't worry, it's just dinner, really."

He arched his eyebrow. "For a very shy girl, you sound quite generous with complimenting me. Real smooth right there, milady." Paige flushed, and he looked at her through heavy lashes, his smirk now only a faint trace at the corners of his lips.

She shrugged. "There's no use in lying, really." Arthur seemed to stiffen under her touch, but it was barely noticeable because she soon realized how cold he must had felt from the weather outside. "Right, I almost forgot. I know you can handle a good conversation but I just want to remind you that they don't like to talk about business and politics over dinner−unless necessary. They think it's rude when all they want to do is enjoy the food and share casual chats with each other."

"Noted."

Paige let out a long breath. "The Callaghans are quite a difficult bunch to deal with but, for as much as you can, ignore them codding on the table. Especially Owen and Senator. It's a norm for them to engage into a thoughtless tiff."

He shrugged casually, his face not betraying any emotion but his usual indifference. "Unless the food's awful, I'd hardly care at all." Paige chuckled, especially when he simply frowned. "That's high unlikely, though."

"Good evening, Senator," the butler's voice chimed in, and they both turned to the entree. Behind him, his wife and son filed in, "Miss Claire, Mister Owen. How have you been?"

Senator Mike, a regal man of deep frowns and gruff, clamant laughter, turned to him. "Ah, Luis. You've served The Cadwyns for long enough. How you wish to hear my day is beyond me. Except when you've grown such liking towards politics, gladly I'd express my deepest frustrations about the ceaseless inflow of troubles from the constituents I've represented. Would you like me to proceed?"