Sophia couldn't help but smile at the thought of how scandalous something like this would be to the delicate sensibilities of Val Royeaux's elite.
The Queen sat not at the head of the table, for there wasn't one. She and her friends ate their dinner at a round table, the largest one Varric could conjure up in Lowtown. They weren't feasting in her Keep, either, but rather the Hanged Man. It had been somewhat refurbished since the days where Sophia had lived in one of the upstairs rooms, but it was impossible to clean it up entirely. By nobility's standards it would always be a hovel, but there was a history to this place that elevated it beyond such things. This was the watering hole where friendships were made and cemented, altering the courses of their lives, a safe haven even when the rest of the city and the world seemed to be against them.
Sophia liked to think she'd truly found herself during her time here, just as Nostariel had. The rooms they occupied had been passed on to countless others after they no longer needed them, but some small piece of them would always be here, within these walls.
Loud, upbeat voices echoed off of those walls, as the Hanged Man was near full to bursting tonight. Sophia had invited everyone she could think of, and Varric had ensured they would have the space to eat comfortably. They couldn't all fit at one table, of course; most of the Argent Lions were situated at their own, the separate groups reunited and catching up over drinks. The Inquisition Irregulars shared another. All those that Sophia felt were most influential on her own life, her own city, were seated with her. It seemed only right for them to share a night together, before the Inquisition had to sail back for Skyhold. There was much work still to be done, after all.
She leaned to her left, resting her hand atop Lucien's forearm and speaking quietly. "Would you like to make the announcement?"
He smiled back at her, then nodded once. "I'd be happy to." As with many of the things Lucien said, this one was obviously an understatement.
The general ambient noise level was quite elevated, and he waited for a natural lull before clearing his throat and standing, the better to make his intention to speak obvious, and perhaps the better to address those further away. He didn't have to wait long for quiet—no doubt he never would again. "I hope everyone's enjoying themselves," he began, pausing for the obligatory acknowledgment, which in the Hanged Man with friends was rather rowdier than it would have been most other places. The Lions, at least, had no problem responding with some emphasis, though they kept it short.
"Thank you all, for being here. Not just tonight, but in the efforts earlier, as well. This city is dear to a great many of us, for a great many reasons." He paused, smile fading at the edges momentarily. "I suppose most of you know this, but I spent nearly a decade here myself, and I daresay had it not been for the people of Kirkwall, a few friends in particular, my life would have been quite different, indeed, and not for the better. I think that is something a lot of us here can claim."
Lucien folded his arms behind his back. "It means more than I can say, to be back here, with friends old and new, and if you can bear the insufferable sentimentality of the moment, there is something I would like to share with you first, before anyone else, for that very reason." The smile returned, and he looked back down at Sophia before turning his eyes back out to the assembled. "Sophia and I are engaged to be married."
Immediately, the Lions' table erupted into enthusiastic cheering; someone whistled—and Donnelly handed what looked like a coin purse over to Cor.
"About damn time," Ashton commented aloud, and a glance in his direction would reveal the man leaned back, with an incredibly smug look plastered to his face.
A loud, jarring whistle came from Sparrow’s seat of the table, as she thumped it enthusiastically. She jostled Ashton at her side, and wiggled her eyebrows, all too happy to hear the news. “Took you guys long enough,” she added with a beam of a grin, wolfish in nature. Like the some of the others, she seemed not at all surprised by the announcement; though, there was no exchange of coin. There’d probably be teasing later, if she succumbed to the half-empty goblet seated in front of her. Rilien, of course, seemed completely unsurprised, his quiet congratulations more a movement of his lips than anything audible over the rest.
"It's not as though we delayed because we wanted to," Lucien pointed out, though from his amiable tone, he was taking the gentle mockery in stride.
"I think this means the next round is on the Commander," Hissrad speculated, turning to his fellow Lions as if for confirmation. As though any of them would do anything but agree.
Lucien frankly didn't seem inclined to, either, sighing only from fondness and nodding to the barman, who set about assembling another several trays of drinks for the partygoers.
Some part of it felt wrong, this light, almost weightless feeling Sophia had. She knew the origin of the misgivings: it seemed somehow unfair that she should be allowed the happiness she'd always wanted, when some of her friends had it taken away. It had hurt her to see the state Ashton had fallen into after his return to Kirkwall without Nostariel. And though he'd eventually pulled himself out of it, he would never be the same. They'd had so little time together, while Sophia and Lucien still had much of their lives ahead, and so many beautiful things to look forward to.
But she had to remind herself that this exact moment was what Nostariel had sacrificed for. To make sure the people she cared for could have these chances at happiness. To be dragged down into somberness would be a disservice to her. Sophia thought back to the way her friend had reacted when she'd recounted her trip to Orlais with Lucien. The way their enthusiasm fed off each other. She could imagine Nostariel's face, sitting next to her husband. No one in the room would have been more pleased to hear their announcement.
"What does this mean for the city?" Ithilian asked, stirring Sophia from her thoughts. He'd waited until the immediate reaction had died down and many of the next round of drinks had been passed out to speak.
"For the moment, very little," she answered, understanding his concern. "A royal wedding isn't something that can occur overnight, and in the meantime I intend to oversee the repair efforts here myself, as I did in the wake of the mage-templar battle." The chantry building hadn't been destroyed this time, but overall there was much more work to be done. Meredith's attack had been dealt with in a matter of a few hours, while the Red Templar siege lasted the better part of a week. The giant in particular had done a number on the foundry district.
"After the marriage... Kirkwall will always be my home, no matter where I am, and its well-being will always number among my foremost concerns and priorities." The marriage would signify a great level of cooperation between Kirkwall and Orlais, something that might've ruffled noble feathers before, but after Lucien's efforts to help save the city, Sophia imagined they'd be far more amenable to it. No doubt they would insist on remaining an independent state, one that their Queen officially ruled and not the Emperor, even if in practice they would be sharing their burdens. Even if she would eventually be referred to as Empress before Queen.
Regardless, Kirkwall would remain in the best of hands. Sophia's own, as often as she could manage, far into the future. Until she could raise and prepare other hands for the task.
The answer seemed to satisfy Ithilian, and he returned to his meal. As far back as the two of them went, there was more respect than friendship, and Sophia was not inclined to force the issue. Varric had informed her of a development in the Alienage involving him, one that she approved of fully. By the looks of him, Ithilian had earned some rest.
“No doubt you will encounter resistance." Rilien had either picked up on the direction of her thoughts or simply been thinking something similar himself. “Perhaps more from the direction of Orlais than Kirkwall, now." The tranquil had since finished eating, and had pushed back from the table slightly, occupying his hands with the process of tuning his lute.
“I doubt it will prove to be anything you cannot handle." He glanced between them once, then back down to the neck of his instrument. The observation seemed to invite comment, though certainly without much pressure.
"The vote of confidence is reassuring, coming from you, Rilien." Though he was still smiling a bit too widely to look serious, Lucien clearly meant it. Rilien certainly wasn't the type to lie to spare anyone's feelings, and he had a point about resistance on the other side. No doubt for all the nobility of Kirkwall's potential protests, the Orlesians would have another about their Emperor marrying the Queen of what many of them still saw as a backwater provincial region. The title Queen itself might strike them as a conceit, even.
"In any case," he continued, "perhaps that's enough about us for now. I'd be interested to hear what the rest of you have planned for the future, both immediate and beyond. It may be some time before we're all able to be in the same place again." If, that was, it ever happened. As the empty chair at the table demonstrated, none of them were immortal, and the danger of the present threat to Thedas was very real.
"Ithilian and I will be returning with the Inquisition, for the time being," Amalia said, setting her fork down across her empty plate. "After that, I do not know exactly what I will do." The defeat of Corypheus would likely entail the death of the man she hunted, though Sophia didn't know all of the details.
Ashton tossed a pensive glance her way before tilting his head. "Could always come back home?" he asked with a raised brow. Obviously he meant Kirkwall, though he couldn't have known if she viewed it in the same way as he did. Regardless, he shrugged and took another drink out of his mug-- watered down juice, most likely. "Personally, I'm debating the merits of renaming ourselves the Royal Guard. You know, for the impact," he said with a wry smile. Most likely it was said in jest, though undoubtedly he'd still try to run with it depending on what Sophia said.
Aurora shook her head with smile before her glance lingered on Donnelly for a moment. It passed quickly, but it was not unnoticeable. She looked instead toward Sophia and shrugged. "Honestly, I'd like to settle down. A simple plan, but I'd really like to have a home I can call my own-- a house, with a little plot of land to grow my flowers," she said, leaning back in her chair as she spoke. She said with with a pleasant smile, almost like she could see herself there now. "Like I said, simple. But after all this, maybe simple isn't so bad," she said with a chuckle.
Then she frowned for a moment, "How realistic that is, I don't know. But a girl can dream, right?" she said with a wink for Donnelly.
"Anywhere in particular you'd like to live?" Sophia asked her. Kirkwall wasn't the best place for those seeking space and land to grow things on. Little gardens, of course, but Aurora had already put one of those together here before. Sophia imagined she had something slightly more impressive in mind.
"Wherever I land after all of this I suppose," Aurora answered thoughtfully. "Hopefully somewhere where I can visit as often as possible," she answered with a smile. On the other side of the table Ashton raised his cup in agreement.
Sparrow hummed in assent. Clearly, she thought it was a good idea, as well. The smile on her face was wistful. Perhaps, she, too, remembered the little garden Aurora had scraped up in the Alienage, growing things in bleak places had always been a skill of hers. One she’d been all too willing to divulge herself in, if only for awhile. Like Amalia, she’d never disclosed what she would do after all this was said and done. When Corypheus was laid to rest, and they’d be given a longer leash to do what they wanted… it was likely that she’d find something else to focus her efforts on. Whether it was combing the coast for slavers, freeing apostates, or striking out on the sea was anyone’s guess. Or, something more local.
She sipped from the rim of her tankard. From the crinkle of her nose, it was stronger than what she normally drank these days. Something from Varric’s reserve, or whatever dusty corner the Hanged Man dredged up whenever they saw fit to celebrate something. This was cause for celebration, after all. Her smile widened, “Best be a place we can visit, too.”
There was no definitive place Sparrow preferred living—that much Sophia knew. A bird hardly rested its wings in one place, and she had already claimed many homes over the years, flitting between them as she saw fit. She’d changed, however. That much was clear. Her eyes slipped from Ashton’s raised cup to Aurora’s face, and finally, on Rilien. It rested there. Though, only for a moment, before she raised her own cup in agreement.
It was getting to the point where nearly everyone had finished eating, the noise level in the tavern naturally increasing as conversation grew more lively around them. Rilien chose the moment to excuse himself, stepping away from their table with a glance at Amalia, and then repositioning himself near the hearth. She went with, picking up her harp from closer to the bar's entrance on the way and taking a seat nearby the tranquil.
The opening chords to a familiar song followed, one more popular in places like the Hanged Man than ballrooms. It was fast, lively, and clearly an invitation to dance, or at least mingle a little more freely.
Several of those present took up the cue, standing and moving the tables around so that there was a large open area in the middle of the floor. This, also, was quite familiar: the first such celebration Sophia had ever attended was the one immediately before the Deep Roads Expedition, but that certainly hadn't been the only one.
Ashton's smile lingered, though it became melancholy as bodies stood to start dancing. He personally did not partake, instead taking a seat closer to the bar, and away from the knots of people. He had turned away from the music, but from the angle he sat at from Sophia, she could see him playing with the ring around his finger. A habit he'd recently acquired.
Aurora on the other hand laughed freely as the music began and gave Donnelly one last look before standing and dragging him toward the music. He seemed only too happy to be dragged, and went with laughter in lieu of protest.
Sparrow had chosen a place at the bar, as well. Not too far from Ashton, though not close enough to rankle him from his thoughts. She was turned slightly towards the throng of dancers, chin propped into an upturned palm. Her eyes were shuttered softly and her foot bobbed, tapping against the stool to the beat of the music. The smile that tipped the corner of her lips, drawing up the scar, seemed at ease, for once.
Lia led a few of the Lions out to dance right away, no doubt with more soon to follow. Sophia noticed Ithilian move to a seat close to where the music was being played, looking like his thoughts were drifting somewhere. The past, perhaps. She wondered when the next time would be that they were all free to do this again. If it would take another catastrophe to bring them all together. She hoped not. These moments were some of the most refreshing in her life, and made all the toil and duty in between worthwhile.
Her hand found Lucien's as they moved to their feet, only an exchanged look needed before they were dancing. All around her there were friends shifting and twirling by, and she felt more relaxed than she had in a very long time. It was enough to make her eyes glisten when she lifted them up to Lucien's.
"These always were my favorite kind of dances."
He smiled back at her, the expression soft. "Mine, too."
The Queen sat not at the head of the table, for there wasn't one. She and her friends ate their dinner at a round table, the largest one Varric could conjure up in Lowtown. They weren't feasting in her Keep, either, but rather the Hanged Man. It had been somewhat refurbished since the days where Sophia had lived in one of the upstairs rooms, but it was impossible to clean it up entirely. By nobility's standards it would always be a hovel, but there was a history to this place that elevated it beyond such things. This was the watering hole where friendships were made and cemented, altering the courses of their lives, a safe haven even when the rest of the city and the world seemed to be against them.
Sophia liked to think she'd truly found herself during her time here, just as Nostariel had. The rooms they occupied had been passed on to countless others after they no longer needed them, but some small piece of them would always be here, within these walls.
Loud, upbeat voices echoed off of those walls, as the Hanged Man was near full to bursting tonight. Sophia had invited everyone she could think of, and Varric had ensured they would have the space to eat comfortably. They couldn't all fit at one table, of course; most of the Argent Lions were situated at their own, the separate groups reunited and catching up over drinks. The Inquisition Irregulars shared another. All those that Sophia felt were most influential on her own life, her own city, were seated with her. It seemed only right for them to share a night together, before the Inquisition had to sail back for Skyhold. There was much work still to be done, after all.
She leaned to her left, resting her hand atop Lucien's forearm and speaking quietly. "Would you like to make the announcement?"
He smiled back at her, then nodded once. "I'd be happy to." As with many of the things Lucien said, this one was obviously an understatement.
The general ambient noise level was quite elevated, and he waited for a natural lull before clearing his throat and standing, the better to make his intention to speak obvious, and perhaps the better to address those further away. He didn't have to wait long for quiet—no doubt he never would again. "I hope everyone's enjoying themselves," he began, pausing for the obligatory acknowledgment, which in the Hanged Man with friends was rather rowdier than it would have been most other places. The Lions, at least, had no problem responding with some emphasis, though they kept it short.
"Thank you all, for being here. Not just tonight, but in the efforts earlier, as well. This city is dear to a great many of us, for a great many reasons." He paused, smile fading at the edges momentarily. "I suppose most of you know this, but I spent nearly a decade here myself, and I daresay had it not been for the people of Kirkwall, a few friends in particular, my life would have been quite different, indeed, and not for the better. I think that is something a lot of us here can claim."
Lucien folded his arms behind his back. "It means more than I can say, to be back here, with friends old and new, and if you can bear the insufferable sentimentality of the moment, there is something I would like to share with you first, before anyone else, for that very reason." The smile returned, and he looked back down at Sophia before turning his eyes back out to the assembled. "Sophia and I are engaged to be married."
Immediately, the Lions' table erupted into enthusiastic cheering; someone whistled—and Donnelly handed what looked like a coin purse over to Cor.
"About damn time," Ashton commented aloud, and a glance in his direction would reveal the man leaned back, with an incredibly smug look plastered to his face.
A loud, jarring whistle came from Sparrow’s seat of the table, as she thumped it enthusiastically. She jostled Ashton at her side, and wiggled her eyebrows, all too happy to hear the news. “Took you guys long enough,” she added with a beam of a grin, wolfish in nature. Like the some of the others, she seemed not at all surprised by the announcement; though, there was no exchange of coin. There’d probably be teasing later, if she succumbed to the half-empty goblet seated in front of her. Rilien, of course, seemed completely unsurprised, his quiet congratulations more a movement of his lips than anything audible over the rest.
"It's not as though we delayed because we wanted to," Lucien pointed out, though from his amiable tone, he was taking the gentle mockery in stride.
"I think this means the next round is on the Commander," Hissrad speculated, turning to his fellow Lions as if for confirmation. As though any of them would do anything but agree.
Lucien frankly didn't seem inclined to, either, sighing only from fondness and nodding to the barman, who set about assembling another several trays of drinks for the partygoers.
Some part of it felt wrong, this light, almost weightless feeling Sophia had. She knew the origin of the misgivings: it seemed somehow unfair that she should be allowed the happiness she'd always wanted, when some of her friends had it taken away. It had hurt her to see the state Ashton had fallen into after his return to Kirkwall without Nostariel. And though he'd eventually pulled himself out of it, he would never be the same. They'd had so little time together, while Sophia and Lucien still had much of their lives ahead, and so many beautiful things to look forward to.
But she had to remind herself that this exact moment was what Nostariel had sacrificed for. To make sure the people she cared for could have these chances at happiness. To be dragged down into somberness would be a disservice to her. Sophia thought back to the way her friend had reacted when she'd recounted her trip to Orlais with Lucien. The way their enthusiasm fed off each other. She could imagine Nostariel's face, sitting next to her husband. No one in the room would have been more pleased to hear their announcement.
"What does this mean for the city?" Ithilian asked, stirring Sophia from her thoughts. He'd waited until the immediate reaction had died down and many of the next round of drinks had been passed out to speak.
"For the moment, very little," she answered, understanding his concern. "A royal wedding isn't something that can occur overnight, and in the meantime I intend to oversee the repair efforts here myself, as I did in the wake of the mage-templar battle." The chantry building hadn't been destroyed this time, but overall there was much more work to be done. Meredith's attack had been dealt with in a matter of a few hours, while the Red Templar siege lasted the better part of a week. The giant in particular had done a number on the foundry district.
"After the marriage... Kirkwall will always be my home, no matter where I am, and its well-being will always number among my foremost concerns and priorities." The marriage would signify a great level of cooperation between Kirkwall and Orlais, something that might've ruffled noble feathers before, but after Lucien's efforts to help save the city, Sophia imagined they'd be far more amenable to it. No doubt they would insist on remaining an independent state, one that their Queen officially ruled and not the Emperor, even if in practice they would be sharing their burdens. Even if she would eventually be referred to as Empress before Queen.
Regardless, Kirkwall would remain in the best of hands. Sophia's own, as often as she could manage, far into the future. Until she could raise and prepare other hands for the task.
The answer seemed to satisfy Ithilian, and he returned to his meal. As far back as the two of them went, there was more respect than friendship, and Sophia was not inclined to force the issue. Varric had informed her of a development in the Alienage involving him, one that she approved of fully. By the looks of him, Ithilian had earned some rest.
“No doubt you will encounter resistance." Rilien had either picked up on the direction of her thoughts or simply been thinking something similar himself. “Perhaps more from the direction of Orlais than Kirkwall, now." The tranquil had since finished eating, and had pushed back from the table slightly, occupying his hands with the process of tuning his lute.
“I doubt it will prove to be anything you cannot handle." He glanced between them once, then back down to the neck of his instrument. The observation seemed to invite comment, though certainly without much pressure.
"The vote of confidence is reassuring, coming from you, Rilien." Though he was still smiling a bit too widely to look serious, Lucien clearly meant it. Rilien certainly wasn't the type to lie to spare anyone's feelings, and he had a point about resistance on the other side. No doubt for all the nobility of Kirkwall's potential protests, the Orlesians would have another about their Emperor marrying the Queen of what many of them still saw as a backwater provincial region. The title Queen itself might strike them as a conceit, even.
"In any case," he continued, "perhaps that's enough about us for now. I'd be interested to hear what the rest of you have planned for the future, both immediate and beyond. It may be some time before we're all able to be in the same place again." If, that was, it ever happened. As the empty chair at the table demonstrated, none of them were immortal, and the danger of the present threat to Thedas was very real.
"Ithilian and I will be returning with the Inquisition, for the time being," Amalia said, setting her fork down across her empty plate. "After that, I do not know exactly what I will do." The defeat of Corypheus would likely entail the death of the man she hunted, though Sophia didn't know all of the details.
Ashton tossed a pensive glance her way before tilting his head. "Could always come back home?" he asked with a raised brow. Obviously he meant Kirkwall, though he couldn't have known if she viewed it in the same way as he did. Regardless, he shrugged and took another drink out of his mug-- watered down juice, most likely. "Personally, I'm debating the merits of renaming ourselves the Royal Guard. You know, for the impact," he said with a wry smile. Most likely it was said in jest, though undoubtedly he'd still try to run with it depending on what Sophia said.
Aurora shook her head with smile before her glance lingered on Donnelly for a moment. It passed quickly, but it was not unnoticeable. She looked instead toward Sophia and shrugged. "Honestly, I'd like to settle down. A simple plan, but I'd really like to have a home I can call my own-- a house, with a little plot of land to grow my flowers," she said, leaning back in her chair as she spoke. She said with with a pleasant smile, almost like she could see herself there now. "Like I said, simple. But after all this, maybe simple isn't so bad," she said with a chuckle.
Then she frowned for a moment, "How realistic that is, I don't know. But a girl can dream, right?" she said with a wink for Donnelly.
"Anywhere in particular you'd like to live?" Sophia asked her. Kirkwall wasn't the best place for those seeking space and land to grow things on. Little gardens, of course, but Aurora had already put one of those together here before. Sophia imagined she had something slightly more impressive in mind.
"Wherever I land after all of this I suppose," Aurora answered thoughtfully. "Hopefully somewhere where I can visit as often as possible," she answered with a smile. On the other side of the table Ashton raised his cup in agreement.
Sparrow hummed in assent. Clearly, she thought it was a good idea, as well. The smile on her face was wistful. Perhaps, she, too, remembered the little garden Aurora had scraped up in the Alienage, growing things in bleak places had always been a skill of hers. One she’d been all too willing to divulge herself in, if only for awhile. Like Amalia, she’d never disclosed what she would do after all this was said and done. When Corypheus was laid to rest, and they’d be given a longer leash to do what they wanted… it was likely that she’d find something else to focus her efforts on. Whether it was combing the coast for slavers, freeing apostates, or striking out on the sea was anyone’s guess. Or, something more local.
She sipped from the rim of her tankard. From the crinkle of her nose, it was stronger than what she normally drank these days. Something from Varric’s reserve, or whatever dusty corner the Hanged Man dredged up whenever they saw fit to celebrate something. This was cause for celebration, after all. Her smile widened, “Best be a place we can visit, too.”
There was no definitive place Sparrow preferred living—that much Sophia knew. A bird hardly rested its wings in one place, and she had already claimed many homes over the years, flitting between them as she saw fit. She’d changed, however. That much was clear. Her eyes slipped from Ashton’s raised cup to Aurora’s face, and finally, on Rilien. It rested there. Though, only for a moment, before she raised her own cup in agreement.
It was getting to the point where nearly everyone had finished eating, the noise level in the tavern naturally increasing as conversation grew more lively around them. Rilien chose the moment to excuse himself, stepping away from their table with a glance at Amalia, and then repositioning himself near the hearth. She went with, picking up her harp from closer to the bar's entrance on the way and taking a seat nearby the tranquil.
The opening chords to a familiar song followed, one more popular in places like the Hanged Man than ballrooms. It was fast, lively, and clearly an invitation to dance, or at least mingle a little more freely.
Several of those present took up the cue, standing and moving the tables around so that there was a large open area in the middle of the floor. This, also, was quite familiar: the first such celebration Sophia had ever attended was the one immediately before the Deep Roads Expedition, but that certainly hadn't been the only one.
Ashton's smile lingered, though it became melancholy as bodies stood to start dancing. He personally did not partake, instead taking a seat closer to the bar, and away from the knots of people. He had turned away from the music, but from the angle he sat at from Sophia, she could see him playing with the ring around his finger. A habit he'd recently acquired.
Aurora on the other hand laughed freely as the music began and gave Donnelly one last look before standing and dragging him toward the music. He seemed only too happy to be dragged, and went with laughter in lieu of protest.
Sparrow had chosen a place at the bar, as well. Not too far from Ashton, though not close enough to rankle him from his thoughts. She was turned slightly towards the throng of dancers, chin propped into an upturned palm. Her eyes were shuttered softly and her foot bobbed, tapping against the stool to the beat of the music. The smile that tipped the corner of her lips, drawing up the scar, seemed at ease, for once.
Lia led a few of the Lions out to dance right away, no doubt with more soon to follow. Sophia noticed Ithilian move to a seat close to where the music was being played, looking like his thoughts were drifting somewhere. The past, perhaps. She wondered when the next time would be that they were all free to do this again. If it would take another catastrophe to bring them all together. She hoped not. These moments were some of the most refreshing in her life, and made all the toil and duty in between worthwhile.
Her hand found Lucien's as they moved to their feet, only an exchanged look needed before they were dancing. All around her there were friends shifting and twirling by, and she felt more relaxed than she had in a very long time. It was enough to make her eyes glisten when she lifted them up to Lucien's.
"These always were my favorite kind of dances."
He smiled back at her, the expression soft. "Mine, too."