Silence Breaking

44. First or Foremost

'My Lords, Ladies and Gentlemen?'

All eyes snapped to a liveried servant who had appeared at the entrance of the ballroom, holding a staff. With his instrument of authority, he pounded the polished floor three times, making clear what his duty was tonight.

'It is my great honour and pleasure to welcome you to the Christmas ball at Battlewood. Please greet the man who will be your host for tonight. Lord–'

A hand shot out, wrapping mercilessly around the man's wrist and squeezing. A few cold, whispered words floated through the air, too low to be understood.

'...um, Mister Rikkard Ambrose.'

And there he was. Rikkard Ambrose, as he lived (and maybe even breathed if he wasn't made of stone). He towered in the doorway, more perfect and beautiful than he ever had been. And on his arm, walking proudly beside him with a broad smile on her face was...

I blinked.

Then I looked again, just to be sure. But I hadn't made a mistake. If there was one young lady in this house that I'd recognise even with a bag over my head, it was Lady Adaira Louise Jannet Melanie Georgette Ambrose.

His sister.

He had come to the ball with his little sister!

I remembered what he'd told me about his dance partner at lunch. Suddenly, his words appeared in a slightly different light.

I'm quite fascinated by her. I've known her for quite a while, but since arriving here at Battlewood she has impressed me with her charm, her fiery spirit and her intelligence. She's going to play a big role in my future life.

I was going to kill him.

Slowly.

Painfully.

And then I was going to resurrect him and kiss him till he suffocated.

Wait...maybe you should rethink that, Lilly.

Indeed?

Yes. Perhaps you should kill her, first.

What a wonderful idea! I searched my treasure trove of Spanish and Arabic swear words for a word that was bad enough for my dear friend Lady Adaira, the traitorous little witch, but found nothing. The little vixen had known all along! And she had let me stew in my own over-romantic juices for the fun of it! Oh, when I got my hands on her...!

Maybe I should team up with Karim. He probably knew lots more torture methods than sweet little me, and would be more than willing to help avenge himself on the creator of Prince Fragrant Yellow Flower in the Happy Moonlight, Heir to the Principality of Rubbish. Maybe he'd even lend me his sabre.

In just that moment, Lady Adaira glanced up and spotted me. Smiling, she dipped into a perfect curtsy – and then winked at me.

She winked at me.

Oh, that was too much! She was...she was...

...impressive? Admirable?

No! No, horrible! Outrageous! A disrespectful, mad little imp!

The difference to you being?

I'm sure I would have found a satisfactory answer to that question if not at that very moment, the musicians had started playing, and Mr Ambrose had swept his sister off onto the dancefloor.

Oh my God.

He could dance.

I mean really dance.