Lavinia paused as she entered the ballroom, her eyes scanning the space and flow of people starting to pool in. It appeared that everyone had a partner with them, matching flowers and all. Looking down at the red roses around her wrist, she threw a glance back at Dominic who was approaching behind her. She knew she had to stay close to him to ensure that he didn't try to run off, but she wondered how long she'd be stuck with him before she could get them alone. It would probably look odd if she attempted to leave the room right after she had just arrived, so she decided she would have to put up with him a little longer. Lavinia pinched the edge of her sleeve with her nails. Being around him again instilled a stinging pain inside her like the reopening of old wounds as she remembered how things were before, but at the same time, she didn't feel as on edge as she thought she would have been. He was behaving rather calmly after she had held a knife to his throat and threatened him, but perhaps that was because he wasn't taking her seriously. She rolled her eyes to herself. That would be a viable option considering how he seemed to always think about himself.

Seeing that she had stopped walking, Dominic approached her cautiously. He knew that she was just itching to use that blade of hers, and he wasn't about to call her bluff, not with his own neck on the line. At the same time, he also knew that she was smart enough not to attempt anything drastic right in front of everyone, so just as long as he stayed with the crowd, he would be fine. Maybe he even could try to talk her out of it. He had to admit, he was curious to know where she and her family had been over the past few years. Ever since Lord Brendon had called off the wedding, her family stopped showing up to the court gatherings. He figured they didn't want to live with the shame and had moved away, but Lavinia's unexpected appearance that night persuaded him otherwise. Standing next to her, he offered out his hand.

"I suppose you will have to tolerate me for a little longer."

She let out a puff of air. "I suppose so."

"Come on now, am I really that bad?"

"Are you honestly asking me that question?"

He shrugged. "I may have changed greatly since you last saw me."

"That doesn't change what you did."

"Yes, but I told you that I'm sorry and that I regret it. What else do you want from me?"

She didn't answer, the soft sound of music and murmurs of conversation filling the silence between them. From observing the other couples, she and Dominic clearly looked the most miserable together, standing at least a couple feet apart and avoiding eye contact. Even the stiffer looking pairs exchanged slight smiles from time to time. She couldn't help but wonder if the others knew each other as well or if they had just arrived with a partner. The music shifting into an upbeat waltz snagged her attention, making her even more self conscious as the other couples began to take their place on the dance floor. Unwilling to make the first move, she stayed where she was, awkwardly shifting the weight between her feet and staring straight ahead.

Dominic cleared his throat. "Would you like to dance or would you prefer to continue standing there all alone?"

"You're standing all alone too," she retorted.

"Yes, but unlike you, I actually look like I want to be here."

"I'd look a lot happier if I didn't have to deal with you."

"Trust me, darling, I feel the same way about you."

Turning to look at him, she was met with a smug smile stretched across his face. "One dance, and that's it."

"If you say so."

He offered his hand out again, and she just barely took it, only the very tips of her fingers resting against his. He couldn't help but laugh a bit to himself, closing his hand on the edge of hers as she led the way, stopping near the edge of the dance floor to put some space between them and the large crowds. Facing each other, they raised their hands to get into the right position, but Dominic paused.

"Your hand goes on my shoulder, sweetheart."

"I know how to dance, Dominic. I'm leading."

"Not on your life. Switch."

She stuck out her chin. "No."

"Are we really going to fight about this now?"

"You're the one who is making this into an issue."

"I'm not letting you lead. It's not traditional."

"Relax. I'm not going to kill you. Yet."

"Very funny, Lavinia."

"Don't think I won't do it."

"Oh, don't worry. I never doubted your capabilities."

"Good. So you know I hold the power right now, hm?"

He frowned. "Alright, fine, I'll do what you want."

She smiled. "That's what I want to hear. Now, shall we begin?"

He obliged, placing his hand on her shoulder as she placed hers on his back. She took his right hand in her left one and began to lead, moving to the rhythm of the music. He noticed she still avoided eye contact, keeping a concentrated look on her face with her lips pursed and her eyebrows pinched together. As the dance progressed however, he noticed how her features gradually relaxed and how a satisfied smile floated down from the heavens and settled on her face. He contemplated striking up a conversation but instead opted just to look at her, fixating on her raven hair coiled up in braids on her head and how the loose strands framed her face. She was certainly a unique sort of beauty with her prominent cheekbones, sharp jawline, and thin lips, but she was someone who never failed to grasp his attention whenever he saw her. With the way she carried herself, she walked the line between confidence and complacency, dipping her toes on either side but never falling completely into one. He wondered how she could somehow fit into the mold of a perfect lady while still maintaining her own special charm. Even though he hated to admit it, he did miss her presence in the court.

She could feel his eyes on her, but she opted not to say anything at first. To avoid thinking about him too much, she tried to throw all her attention into the dance, making sure she stayed on beat and didn't run into anyone. It was her first time ever attempting to lead in a waltz, and things were going much better than she had expected. She couldn't help but smile a little as she allowed herself to enjoy the moment, all dressed up and pretty in an even prettier ballroom, floating across the floor to angelic music. It would have felt like heaven if not for the elephant in the room, or rather, the man in her arms at that moment. She knew what she was getting herself into ever since she agreed to attend, but now that he was in front of her at last, she found that she didn't know what to do with herself. The weight of the blade felt heavy against her leg as she thought about what she would do. Prior, she was so imbued with pent up anger that she would have carved and stolen his heart straight out of his chest without a second thought. But now, she was close enough to hear his heart beating, and she couldn't even keep that idea in her head without shivering. What was she even doing here? This was just a waste of time.

"I never thought I would get invited here," he spoke out of the blue, trying to strike up a conversation.

"Why?" she asked, the question falling out of her mouth without even thinking whether or not she actually cared.

He shrugged. "You know, this place has a strange reputation. I can't believe some people were spreading rumors and lies that it was ugly and such on the inside."

She wrinkled her nose. "Ironic, isn't it?"

"What is?"

"That you care so much about how rumors tainted the reputation of this place."

He paused. "I apologize. That was insensitive of me."

She clicked her tongue. "And you still want me to believe that you've changed?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to–"

"Forget it."

The waltz finally ended and she dipped into a standard curtsy and he leaned into a bow. Standing up straight again, she found that she was in a more miserable state than when she had arrived. After informing him that she planned on leaving, she attempted to walk away but he caught her by the arm. Her sudden demeanor shift did not go unnoticed by him, and he was filled with an unexpected determination to find out why. On any other day, he would have just let her go with a sigh of relief, but today was different. He knew they had been reunited for a reason, and he wasn't about to let her go without at least trying to make things right.

"Lavinia, wait. What's wrong?"

She shook her head. "Just let me go. Enjoy your night."

"But–"

"What, huh? What do you want from me?" she demanded, finally looking him in the eye. He was stunned for a moment, caught up in the whirlwind of emotions contained in those blue eyes. Hate, anger, pain, loathing, sadness, longing, were all contained in her gaze among other things, and for a moment, he felt like he saw a glimpse into her soul. And in that moment, he wanted nothing more than to at least try to make her feel better.

"Don't go."

"And why shouldn't I?"

"The night is still young and we might as well make the most of it."

"You might as well make the most of it. There's nothing I can do."

"No, you deserve this. You deserve to enjoy this night, this invitation, this place."

She shook her head. "Stop acting like you care."

"And what if I do?"

She was quiet, not knowing what to say in response. She felt him take her hand, but she stayed frozen in place, not knowing what to think or say.

"One more dance?"

"Dominic, I don't–"

"Mm, I think I could go for another dance," he mused with a smug smile. "And I need a partner to do it."

"Wait—" Before she could fully protest, they were off, spinning and twirling to the tune of the next waltz. He took the lead this time, his fingers brushing against the bare skin of her back in a gentle manner. She narrowed her eyes, glaring at him with enough ferocity to make anyone's blood curdle. Except Dominic was different; her expression only amused him and he continued to smile, taunting her to challenge him. She attempted to walk off, but he only spun her around and brought her back to him. Gritting her teeth, she attempted to stomp on his toe, but he sidestepped her, showing off his impeccable footwork without missing a beat. She let out an exasperated sigh.

"You'd better enjoy it while you can since it might as well be your last."

"Still going on about that?" he teased.

"You're the one who wanted me to stay."

"And I'm glad you did. Aren't you?"

"I haven't decided yet."

He smiled. "At least you didn't say no."

She shot him a look, but remained silent for the rest of the dance. She couldn't understand why he was doing this or what reason he had for wanting her to stay, especially after everything she had said. Maybe, just maybe, he was a little less selfish than she had thought. Glancing back at his face, she was met with his cheery smile that made her both want to smile back and punch it right off his face. This waltz was a little more upbeat than the last, but it was hard for her to entirely put her heart into it to match his energy. Why did she even decide to go along with him? She hardly even put up a fight. Caught up in her own thoughts, she nearly lost her footing, squeezing onto his arm to regain her balance. She muttered a hasty apology, a flush of red coming to her pale cheeks. He merely hummed in response and continued dancing. He desperately wanted to say something, just talk with her and let them exchange their thoughts and feelings, but he didn't want to ruin the moment while it lasted. Finally, the music piece came to an end, and they exchanged a bow and curtsy again. He barely finished standing upright again before she had taken off, making long strides toward the exit. He immediately followed after her as she disappeared through the doorway and down one of the halls.

"Lavinia, wait!"

She didn't answer. If anything, she increased her pace. His walk turned into a jog and then into a run as he tried to catch up with her, ducking around corners and brushing past attendants all while calling her name. When she approached the doors they had entered from, he skidded to a stop in front of her, blocking her way.

"Lavinia, please, just talk to me."

She just frowned, spinning on her heels and trying to find another exit. She cast furtive glances through the doors as she passed them, seeing nothing but more and more rooms. Near the end of the hall, she spied glass doors leading out to the gardens, and she figured that that was her best bet. Pushing them open, she dashed out into the night, the cool air hitting her skin like a gentle kiss. She didn't know where she was going, but all she knew was that she didn't want to face him. She didn't want to stop, she didn't want to talk, she didn't want to care. He was still following after her, calling her name over and over again and begging her to stop and listen. She wanted to ignore him, but his voice was worming its way into her mind, seeping into her thoughts and feelings and slowing her down. Eventually it became too much and she stopped in her tracks, whirling around and whipping the dagger out of its sheath.

"Stay back," she ordered, holding her knife out in front of her. "Don't come any closer."

He held his hands up. "Alright, alright."

"Why won't you just leave me alone?"

"Because I feel horrible for hurting you and I want to talk and understand and make things right with you."

She stared, feeling herself trembling for a reason she wasn't entirely sure of. "And how do you expect to do that?"

He threw his hands in the air. "I don't know. Yell at me, scream at me, tell me you hate me. Let it all out on me."

Her eyes narrowed. "Alright then, why did you do it? What did I ever do to you? Why did you hate me so much that you had to take everything away from me?"

He sighed. "Look, I didn't really mean to target you. I was actually quite fond of you, to be honest. But I just hated Brendon and how he had everything he could have ever wanted in the world and how he could do whatever the hell he liked without consequences and, well, I wanted to try to ruin things for him. I would have done it to anyone he was engaged to, as bad as that is, but I was young and stupid and I didn't think."

She scowled. "That's it? You were jealous and petty and for that you ruined my entire image by lying that I had gotten pregnant just to call off the wedding?"

"It had to be something extreme or it wouldn't have worked. But trust me, you wouldn't have wanted to marry him."

"How would you know that? You ruined my life!"

"Ruined? You were a lady already. I highly doubt a marriage, especially one to him of all people, would've made your life any more comfortable."

"That just shows how much you know," she hissed. "My family was in debt. My marriage would have saved us."

He was silent for a moment, a sinking feeling forming in his stomach. "Oh."

She raised her chin. "Not to mention the stupid rumor you spread got me kicked out of my own house."

Again, he was at a loss for words, all the missing pieces from the past few years finally falling into place. "Lavinia, I didn't know—"

"And what if you did know, huh? What would you have done?"

"Maybe I could have helped you..." he faltered.

"Yeah, because after my life fell apart, I'd go straight to the person who caused all of it." She felt tears welling up in her eyes, but she forced them back.

"But why him of all people?"

"Because he had the money we needed. And it wasn't up to me to decide."

"I would have."

She blinked. "What?"

"If you needed someone, I would have married you."

She sputtered, hardly comprehending what she was hearing. Her hand holding the knife fell to her side. "Don't tell me it's because you love me."

He shook his head. "That's too strong of a word. But I care about you enough to know that it would have been better for you."

She stared at him, trying to work out if he was telling the truth or not. Judging by the way his eyes never left hers and the desperate edge to his voice, she felt inclined to believe him. In that moment, that possible life flashed before her eyes, marrying and living with Dominic instead of Brendon. Before the incident, she didn't really have a problem with him. He was kind and gentle, but also a little awkward and tended to be the butt of most of the others' jokes. She remembered how he would always just smile and take it, but she had a feeling that it affected him more than he let them know. He was easy to like for sure, but would she have been happy with him even if they weren't in love?

"It...it couldn't have worked out."

"Why not?"

"Because..." she paused. "Because you're not wealthy enough. You don't have the same power or prestige. You couldn't..."

His face immediately fell. "Is that all that matters to you? And here I thought you were different."

"No, no, I mean...I don't think you could have helped us enough with our situation. We needed more than..."

He frowned. "It wouldn't have been the most perfect life, but we could get by. I don't know, don't you value happiness over wealth and image?"

She didn't reply, and a silence fell between them again. His family's wealth was a sensitive topic for him because they had acquired it recently rather than inheriting it from a long line like many of the others and for that reason, they had trouble fully assimilating. People questioned their legitimacy in the court and often speculated about whether or not they had the right to be there, leaving him constantly wanting to prove himself to them. He sighed, taking a seat on one of the benches and putting his head in his hands. To his surprise, she walked over and sat next to him, gingerly placing the dagger across her lap. Her anger had mostly subsided, but she still felt a twinge of sadness, not as much for herself as for him. In her mind over the past few years, she had painted him as a complete villain with no redeeming qualities, the ultimate evil that she felt compelled to take down. But now, those layers were peeling away to remind her that he was indeed a person with his own struggles.

"I'm sorry, Dominic. I didn't mean to upset you."

He scuffed his shoe against the ground. "It's fine, I understand. But can I ask you something?"

"Go ahead."

"Do you miss being a part of the court?"

She hesitated for a moment. "I do," she admitted, fiddling with the edge of her dagger to occupy her hands. "As rough as things were there, I still felt most at home."

He hummed. "I suppose I could bring you back. I'll clear your name and come clean about everything."

She was caught off guard, her head shooting up to look at him. "You...you would?"

"It's the least I could do after everything I caused. I could also help pay off your family's debt if I can."

She blinked rapidly, hardly believing what she was hearing. Her hand slipped against the blade of the knife as it fell to the ground, but the painful sting was numbed by her shock. "Dominic, I...I don't know what to say."

"A thank you would be nice," he teased. Noticing the cut on her hand, he pulled the handkerchief out of his pocket and placed it over her wound, gently cleaning the blood off. She stayed frozen in place, just watching and feeling his tender movements with her eyes fixed on him. The whole night, he had been slowly chipping away at her anger and vengeance, and now he seemed to have reached the very last layers of her pain. At first, it left her feeling more miserable and sorry for herself, but now, an odd sense of calm swept over her, pulling her out of the past and into the present moment. Could she really forgive him for what he did? It would take some time, more than just one night, to heal completely, but maybe now was the time and place to start.

"Thank you," she murmured, almost breathless.

He offered her a slight smile. "Of course."

"But what about you? When they find out you lied, you'll be shunned and disgraced. And the money...how can you pay for both of us?"

He shrugged, sweeping the fallen dagger off of the ground and turning it around in his hand. "I'll leave then. I never liked it there anyway."

"You'd willingly give it up?"

"No one would miss me. After all, I don't have the level of wealth and prestige as you said to fit in with them anyway. You can have the life you had before just with me out of the picture."

She frowned. "It won't be the same without you."

He chuckled, noting the somewhat concerned look on her face. "Don't you think that's how I felt after you left?"

She had no words to say in response. Hearing the clock chime on the hour, he stood up and offered his hand to her. She placed her hand in his and rose to her feet, not taking her eyes off of him. Neither said a word as he led her back inside the castle, through the halls, and finally stopping at the door they arrived at. She paused, letting go of his hand, and he turned to look at her, lifting an eyebrow in confusion.

"I thought you wanted to leave."

She blinked. "Right."

"Unless you've changed your mind."

"Have you?"

"Well, there's no use staying if my partner is leaving."

She frowned. "I'm sorry. I ruined your night."

He took her hand in his again. "Don't be. Come on, I'll walk you to your carriage."

She nodded wordlessly, and the two exited the castle, thanking the attendants on their way out. As they were heading down the stairs, Dominic couldn't help but cast one last look at the castle, soaking in the last bits of its majesty before it was gone forever. Would he ever be able to come back? It seemed highly unlikely to his disappointment. He felt as if he left a little bit of his heart inside, trapped behind those towering stone walls and behind those heavy oaken doors. But little did he know that that piece of his heart was not actually left behind; rather, it filled in the hole in the heart of someone else.

They paused at the tall iron gates, and she held his handkerchief out to him.

"Keep it. It's yours now."

"Thank you."

He smiled, but a whisper of sadness invaded his expression. "I'll clear everything up for you as soon as I can so that you can come back."

She nodded. "Okay."

"Goodbye, Lavinia. If you're lucky, you'll never have to see me again."

Her breath hitched in her throat. "Dominic..."

"I enjoyed tonight. I'll never forget it."

Leaning down, he kissed her hand in a tender manner, sending her one last soft smile before turning away and making his way to his carriage. She watched, frozen in place, as he walked away from her. Part of her was screaming at her to go after him, but she didn't know why. All she could do was watch as he got into his carriage and disappeared into the night, leaving her with a confusing longing feeling. Looking down, she gazed at his handkerchief in her hand, blooms of her blood staining the material. She pressed the cloth to her chest, feeling both a cold, empty sensation and a warm, comforting feeling overtake her all at once. Her heart was racing in her chest and it took a few moments for her to realize she was all alone. Blinking, she snapped out of her daze and started to make her way to her own carriage. It was only then she noticed something was missing. Parting her skirt, she was met with the sight of an empty scabbard. Her mind immediately flashed back to the last moment she saw it...in Dominic's hand. She let out a dry chuckle, one of bitter amusement rather than anger. She would see him again and she would get her dagger back. But one thing was for sure: the blade was not the only thing he had stolen that night.