· 

Aubrey 25



 Chapter 25

    ****


    The sunlight, more intense than ever, streamed through the window and deep into the room. Aubrey's legs gave out and she collapsed into a heap. A small cloud of dust floated in the air, a reminder of how many times she'd moved around this large room. Aubrey's breath was ragged and colorful.



    "This is all you’ve got, come on, get up."



    Madame Koppen said, clicking her tongue.



    "Just a moment, just a breath."



    "You're going to go to the ball and say, 'Let's just take a breather and get back to dancing,' come on."



    Koppen had no mercy. Tiptoe! Spin on your heels! Arms outstretched gracefully! How was this any different from chopping wood? Her angry berating rumbled in her ears. Afraid to get up again, Koppen stepped forward and grabbed her around the waist.



    "I can't have you hunched over like this."



    One of the things Koppen emphasized was good posture. Keep your upper body straight by tensing your stomach and pulling your back in. Keep your chin tucked in. Pull your elbows back as well, so that your hands don't always stick out past the hem of your dress.



     "Your eyes should always be in the other person's eyes."



    Aubrey's sweat poured down her face as she stood, trapped in a tight wooden frame. When Aubrey stood and looked up at Koppen, she smiled with satisfaction. As Koppen slowly approached, Aubrey spread one arm out to her side.



    She had to learn to waltz. This dance, Koppen said, was the flower of the ball. This was where the real romance began. Her outstretched arms fluttered wildly, but Aubrey bit her lower lip to hold on.



    Koppen took her hand in her, one wrapped around the small of her back. The waltz was more intimate than other dances. They had to dare to touch each other's bodies and maintain this distance until the end of the dance. Koppen said.



     "If you're having a hard time, think of a beautiful gentleman. A fine gentleman who will win the lady's heart."



     Aubrey closed her eyes at the words. To her surprise, a face came to her mind. Before Aubrey had time to think about it, Koppen moved her feet.



    * * *



    Time passed quickly. Aubrey spent most of her waking hours practicing, and by the end of the day, she was good enough to make Koppen shrug. At their last lesson, Koppen looked at Aubrey's dance and said,



     "I wouldn't say it's great, but if you can keep up, you’ll be okay.”



    It was a compliment. Koppen’s tone was direct and sobering. After dinner, Aubrey paced the room in circles. Her arms, outstretched in the air, no longer trembled. Her tiptoeing, flowing gait felt natural. That's when the door swung open.



     "Eh, Emily?"



     Aubrey straightened up in surprise. Emily, clad in white pajamas, smiled an unreadable smile.



    "You've been practicing."



    "No. Come in."



     Aubrey wiped the sweat from her brow. Emily, who had closed the door behind her, walked in and casually plopped down on the bed and looked at Aubrey. Her emerald eyes sparkled. Aubrey turned to face her.



     "Come here and sit down. Don't stand there like an idiot."



    Emily said, patting her side. Aubrey hesitated and plopped down on the bed a few feet away from her. Uncomfortable with the unusually intense scrutiny on her face, Aubrey gently touched her cheek.




    "Do I have something on my face?"



    "Who's your favorite person?"



    Aubrey blinked at the blunt question.



    Who's her favorite person?



     "All of a sudden, what's that......."



    "Don't pretend you don't know. I saw you monopolizing the men at the last dinner party, even sneaking out for a walk in the garden with Nicholas Artherton."



     "......."



    "Is Nicholas, the guy you like?"



    Emily was insistent on an answer, and Aubrey knew what she was worried about.



     "I wouldn't say he’s my favorite, but I like him because he’s nice to me."



    "That's not what I meant. Answer me straight."



    "But I can tell you one thing for sure, I have no interest  in the Count of Lavonne."



     "......."



    "Really, I’m not interested in him, and I'm sorry if I've misled you, but I mean it."



     Emily's face, which had looked like it was about to bite her, softened. She had expect her to jump up and down and deny it, just in case. Aubrey's expression told her she wasn't lying. Besides, the Count of Lavonne was not the sort of man who would be attracted to a nobody.




     "So you like Nicholas Artherton, then."



    Aubrey wondered if that was what they were talking about, but she didn't bother to correct her. It was better to let Emily think that way, because she never knew when she'd lose her temper.




    "Good luck with that. Tomorrow."




    Emily said, rising from her seat when she was done.




    "Nicholas Artherton is a bit of a busybody, and he might fall for it if you can get him to."



    Apparently encouraged, Emily smiled and left the room. Aubrey let out a sigh.



    "It's finally ...... quiet in days."



    Rolling over onto her back, Aubrey stared at the ceiling, thinking that in a way, it was a good thing. Emily's warning had snapped her out of her dancing stupor. The ball the Duchess had arranged for her was tomorrow.



     Aubrey didn't think she'd have any more luck like this. Tomorrow might be the last time she'd be able to attend a social event where all the gentlemen she could possibly be paired with would be present, so she'd have to be a lady worthy of the occasion.



    * * *


    Jewelry would be the icing on the cake for any lady attending the ball, but today was different.



     "What do you think, lady?"



    Trin stepped back, and Aubrey stared straight ahead. In the mirror, she saw herself in a mask of jet-black feathers. As the theme of the masquerade ball, the mansion had been filled with the vendors Barbara had summoned a few days earlier.



     From merchants selling masks imported from other countries to artisans who brought their own handmade creations. Their masks were jewels, and Aubrey chose this one, adorned with black    feathers.



    It was brought by an old man, an unusually small and dwarfed man among the merchants. Of course, she hadn't chosen it out of pity; her mask was quite a bit larger than the others, and it made it hard to recognize her when she wore it.



    Aubrey liked that. Beneath the eye sockets, transparent rhinestones were densely strung in the shape of her eyes. Whenever she turned her head, the gems caught the light and sparkled.



    She didn't like the long, spiky feather next to the corner of her right eye, but it was more subdued than the other masks.



    "You should probably go now, everyone is waiting for you downstairs."



    At Trin's words, Aubrey stood up. Her off-the-shoulder, dark purple dress matched her mask. She smeared the cream Trin had brought with her on her bare white skin, giving it a vibrant glow.



    Just as Aubrey was about to leave the room, Trin, tugging at the hem of her dress, called out to her.



     "Miss."



    She turned around with only a thin smile, and Trin balled her fists once more.



     "You have to get it, you have to!"



    She wondered what she was talking about, but Aubrey just smiled and nodded.


    * * *



    Sipping his milk tea, Lehman craned his stiff neck from side to side. It was nice to have Khaled Karnus back to being a workaholic, but he'd forgotten there was a man underneath.



    "If I'd known this was coming, I should have begged him to be less crazy."



    This was the second night in a row he'd pulled an all-nighter. Khaled was an unusually light sleeper, and when he had important things to do or was stressed, he'd often stop sleeping altogether.



    Lately, his boss has been under a lot of stress, and he's been pulling all-nighters. This was fine until he realized he had a mountain of work to get done.



    But not when he was dragging his feet on things that could have been solved over time. Something was clearly disturbing his mind, and Lehman could guess what it was all too easily.



    "......No."



    Lehman sipped his warm milk tea as he watched the garden begin to plunge into darkness once more. Khaled had been labeled a troublemaker since birth, but he was a boss who had never been bothered    by women.



    To think that he would be disturbed by a young woman who was not a lady, but a slave or a courtesan? It was impossible. He'd do what he always did, prey on her weaknesses and see what he could get out of it.



    "Kick her out?”



    Was he thinking about it? Just as Leman was about to sulk deeper than ever, he heard the door open behind him. Turning around, he couldn't help but look up.



    "Would you like a cup of milk tea......?"



    His boss, who had been sitting stiffly in his chair in an untucked shirt, was now standing in a dapper tailcoat.



    "I'm just going to step out for a minute, but I need you to keep an eye on things."



    "You're going out for a 'minute' dressed like that?"



     Narrowing her eyes, Lehman took an urgent step toward him.



     "Where are you going?"



    "Get off my face."



    When he leaned in close and glared, Khaled pulled his face back in disgust. The man who said he was going out for a moment had tidied up his disheveled hair. A brow bone jutted out from beneath a forehead that was neither narrow nor wide, dark eyebrows, and sunken eyes, dark blue pupils that glowed in their sockets.



    Dressed to the nines, Khaled Karnus mesmerized men and women alike. Half the representatives of the many brands in Lavonne were probably swayed by his looks, Lehman thought.



    "It's the day, the royal ball."



    Khalad untied his cravat out of habit, as if the mere thought of it bored him.



    "Ah, yes, yes, it is today."



    Lehman grunted, remembering something he'd forgotten. He remembered that he himself had written to Lady Emily in Khaled's name.



     "So you've gotten me into this messy party. Thank you very much."



    Khaled glared at Lehman.



    "Still, it's a royal event, and it's a messy party?"



    "A party where all those great nobles trust a mask the size of their fingernails to bite and suck is messy."



    “Boss!"



     Lehman snapped to attention. He scanned the hallway quickly to see if anyone was there.



    "Please," he said, "don't talk like that, biting, sucking party. Masks the size of  fingernails. Do you have fingernails that big, boss, and speaking of which, where is your mask the size of your fingernails?"



     "Shut up."



    Khaled threw up his hands as if he didn't want to say more and strode straight down the stairs. Lehman followed him hurriedly out of the study.



    "You're late."



    They went downstairs to find the Duke and Duchess waiting for them. Laura was smiling, pleased with her son's willingness to comply, and the look on her face reminded Lehman of something he had completely forgotten.



    "Boss."



    He hastily called Khaled. Khaled glanced back, glared, and then stormed out of the mansion, outpacing his parents. The Duke and Duchess followed him. Lehman bowed deeply toward them, thinking.



    I hope they're okay.

    I hope Aubrey Sandalwood and Khaled Karnus don't run into each other.



    "Oh, Lord."



    He hoped that the 'something' that had driven his boss crazy wasn't Aubrey Sandalwood.


    ****


    To donate for extra chapters for my series or to tip me visit my personal kofi page 

    https://ko-fi.com/doradora 

    Join my discord to get notifications for updates     https://discord.gg/KftaxqanE4

    (If the link is expired, message me for a new link)

Write a comment

Comments: 0