I had been waiting in my own study for only ten minutes, so when a knock alerted me to Evie's presence, I had only just pushed the furniture to the sides. I called for her to come in and when I turned I couldn't help but smile.

She was wearing a very pale blue dress, which had been painted with pink blooming roses. Her cheeks were flushed, presumably from the cold winter air outside, and her hair had been curled and set over her shoulder. Her hands were covered in little white gloves. Even if she acted exactly the same as all of the other girls, I thought that I'd still be so attracted to her.

"Welcome." I spread open my arms, grinning.

She nodded carefully and stepped in, a very small smile on her face.

I walked over to close the door behind her and led her over to one of the couches, now pushed against the wall next to the fireplace, which was crackling loudly.

We sat down and I turned to face her, checking her face over again, her eyes caught mine for a moment longer than I could explain. "Are you alright? After last night I mean?"

Evie looked down to her hands. "I'm unharmed if that's what you mean, well mostly, Angel slammed the carriage door on my fingers when we tried to get away." She pulled off the glove on her left hand and showed off a thick blue line running just below her knuckles.

My eyes widened in panic and I took her hand, examining it in the light the fire gave to us. "Thank God it was just that." I whispered, running my thumb over the linear bruise. "Thank God."

Evie let me keep her hand in mine, but she made me look at her. "Is that what it's like when you're at war?" She whispered, her voice was almost lost to the roar and wail of the fire. "Is that was it's like for Nick?"

I was glad that I could hold her gaze. "No its not, most of the time. I mean that was a surprise attack-"

"Guerrilla." She murmured, I cracked a smile.

"Yeah we don't fight guerrilla in the war. It's very traditional man to man fighting, it's rare we even use cannons let alone bombs. Anyways it's likely he spends much more time sitting around his camp than anything else, and the camaraderie you get in the camps is almost unmatched by anything." I found myself smiling at old memories.

Gently, Evie lifted her shoulders and then set them back down again. "That may be, I think I'd prefer him home again, to be honest. Maybe if you employed guerrilla tactics then you'd actually win, I'm sure it wouldn't be that hard."

I ran my thumb over her hand again and smiled, shaking my head. "Do you know I had that very same argument with my father about an hour ago. He seems so set on keeping the war going and won't hear a word against it." Sighing, I put my head back against the couch. "And now he's not even giving me a word in, he's saying I need to focus on the season instead."

Evie chuckled. "Though you may have bigger problems on your hands if people are bombing the city, and dare I assume they're not Baracosian." She lowered her eyebrow, scratching her collarbone with the bruised hand.

I shrugged and stood up. "Be that as it may, I do need to pay at least some attention to the season, and the only compromise I'm willing to make is that I spend time with you."

"Good to know I'm just a compromise." Evie rolled her eyes, then stood up with me, taking the hand I offered her to help her up.

Letting go of her hand for a fraction of a second, I took off my jacket and tie. "You're far more than a compromise to me." I turned back and looked into her eyes, willing her to know how honestly I meant that. She tried to hide a smile and dropped her eyes to my chest. "And to extend the amount of time I can spend with you, I'm going to want to utilise the social occasions we get. Such as the ball tomorrow." She laughed and rolled her eyes. "So I'm teaching you to dance."

Evie looked me in the eye and laughed aloud. "You're not."

"I am."

"I won't."

"You will."

"Make me." She shot me a mischievous glance before making towards the door. I caught her well before she got there and pulled her into hold.

"Hand on my shoulder." I nodded to her free hand, which was currently resting on my elbow. She looked up at me hesitantly then moved her hand to rest on my shoulder. I nodded at her, but her eyes were now focused on our other hands, which were wrapped around each other. "And now we go like this."

I began to gently lead her through the steps of the waltz, she tripped and stumbled at first, but by the sixth rotation of the room she got it almost consistently smoothly, then I added turns and things in and she laughed as she began to trip again. I kept up the turns at regular intervals until I knew she was confident. Once she seemed finally to get the steps, and when a smile of enjoyment was blooming on her face, I stopped and leaned her back, taking my hand out of hers to support her back completely. She laughed and it was the most beautiful sound, her nose crinkling again as it often seemed to in moments of happiness.

"Am I the wrong way round or am I just really dizzy?" She asked lifting her now free hand to rest on my shoulder.

Every part of me wanted to kiss her in that moment.

Instead I lifted her back upright again and lead her back to the couch. "Water?" I asked, before fetching both her and myself a glass. I took the jug from the windowsill and looked out at the now grey evening, before deciding that the warm orangey light of the room was much better.

"So I expect I'll be much in demand for the waltz then?" She asked, her chin resting on her hands as I came back.

"Very much in demand." I passed her her water. "By me at least. Drink some water and then I'll teach you the Pavanne properly, so you won't have to faint and interrupt it this time." I smiled and then launched into the history and sociopolitical connotations of the dance, whilst she watched me, a small smile on her face.