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Paris, France - 1743
"KATERINA! Katerina, where are you-" Grace stumbled forward suddenly, into the arms of a dashing, eye-catching man.
She could not tell much, though, as they were at a masquerade ball. Her date had abandoned her, and so had Katerina. Grace was frustrated, surrounded by drunk French nobles.
Until this man. He was sober, or as far as Grace could tell. She raised an eyebrow, surprised at how quickly he had caught her without any fuss.
"Oh, excuse me sir. I'm terribly sorry, I'm such a klutz-" "You speak English?" he interrupted, giving an amused smile.
Grace smiled back kindly, nodding.
"Something tells me you're not a Frenchman. Might I ask why you're here, then?"
The stranger offered his hand, gesturing for a dance. The first of many.
Without hesitation, Grace felt compelled to follow the man.
They easily fell into each other comfortably, so much that Grace nearly forgot where she was. "May I ask your name, miss?" he started with an English accent.
"Gracielle. I'm here with a friend who fancied the son of the man hosting this ball. They've taken a liking to each other."
Grace felt like this was such a boring conversation, but the man seemed interested.
"And your name?" she added brightly.
He paused for a moment, narrowing his eyes.
"You can call me Niklaus, or Nik. I'm very pleased to meet you."
Grace nodded curtly, saying, "And the same to you. My date has left me, likely for the wine or the women. I can't say I am upset, though."
She laughed breathlessly. Nik stared into her eyes, wishing they could take off these masks and actually meet. So he suggested it.
"Would you like to move our conversing elsewhere, love? I feel a bit overwhelmed surround by all these drunkards."
Grace shrugged, replying, "Sure. Although, you don't seem like the type to be overwhelmed by much."
Nik shrugged back, leading the girl away from the crowd.
