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Within the walls of pure white and alluring turquoise that enclosed the ballroom —the heart of Meadowgloom Manor— the noise that Lord Byewill and Lady Angels’ guests had stirred up with chatter, laughter, and belated introductions suddenly died down.
It was the soothing voice of Anna X. Lott and the beginning of Edward Heddings’ gentle melody that silenced the dozens of voices and drew everyone’s gaze to the elegant oak stage that stood out in the corner of the ballroom.
People began to move, following the gentle flow of the melody. Smooth, slow movements, either with a partner or simply tapping out the rhythm with their limbs or nodding their heads alone. Such was the case with Dr. Silas A.P. Saparata, whose mind—weighed down by thoughts of a diamond whose brilliance was unmatched by any other on earth, the false words Lord Byewill had spoken to his face, and an article that had made him clench the newspaper the moment he read it—suddenly felt light and unburdened. And before he realized it, he had let himself be carried away by the song, moving his head and shoulders to the inviting rhythm.
Oblivious to Oskar’s doubtful gaze beside him, who hadn’t joined in with the music even a little bit like he had.
“Sil—” his old friend began to say, but a man in a pristine black tailored suit stepped in
“Ah Silas! Would you mind dancing a little bit?” Without waiting for an answer, Solomon Everest pulled him away from the group of people who were still standing in front of the stage, completely engrossed in the duo’s performance, and led him toward the center of the dance floor, where a handful of couples were dancing in harmony. “My wife went somewhere with our friend the judge, so I thought it wouldn’t hurt to warm up a bit for when she gets back.”
“I don’t really think I’m the most suitable person for this, sir. I’m a little rusty in this area” he replied with complete sincerity. It had been a long time since Silas had attended a party or even danced with anyone.
“That’ll do—this is just a warm-up” The bitter taste of the cigar he’d apparently forgotten about still lingered in his mouth, becoming more pronounced the longer he looked at Solomon’s composed face.
They remained like that for a little over the start of the second song, with firm hands guiding his confused steps, spinning and tracing a large part of the dance floor. Until the icy gaze of his unexpected dance partner shifted from his to the polished diorite entrance, where a redheaded woman had just arrived alongside Meagon Marshall—the woman who, not long ago, had called him stupid and made fun of his glasses.
“She’s here! Thanks for your time, Silas.” Solomon stopped in his tracks and withdrew his hands, bidding a brief farewell with a nod before heading over to the new arrivals.
Silas’s peace didn’t last long, as a man he knew well appeared in his vision with a striking smile beneath his well-groomed mustache. Prince Viktor Von Hohenfels stopped in front of him, exclaiming in that heavy German accent that set him apart: “Dance with me too, Mister Silas, a prince like me is quite a good dancer, you'll see” and once again the archaeologist was led to the center, beneath the cold light of the chandeliers.
“Viktor! H-how’s that rifle?”
“It’s beautiful, I love it so much! Thank you for gifting it to me.” At the sudden outburst of joy at the mention of the old George Washington rifle that Silas had gotten for him, Prince Viktor quickened the pace of his dance steps, making it barely possible for Silas to keep up. He hadn’t lied about being a good dancer; Viktor might have been a decorated war general, but he’d been a prince long before that. His steps were deliberate, his turns precise, and his hands —resting on Silas' back and holding Silas’s— were steady.
“Yes, of course, i-it's my pleasure.” They continued their brief conversation, discussing weapons and the artifacts Lord Byewill had in his museum for the rest of the song.
Viktor excused himself as soon as the song ended, mentioning that he and Miss Armstrong had a small matter they needed to discuss immediately. Silas didn’t get to see the two of them leave the ballroom because, as had become a pattern, a familiar face stopped him from disappearing through the nearest door. It was an impulse that had arisen after dancing with two people, contrary to his plans to simply enjoy the music that the lovely musical duo he’d met a couple of hours earlier was set to perform.
Dr. Sal Fin, in his neat attire, approached Silas once more. A slightly shy expression flickered beneath his features, which radiated confidence, and an outstretched hand that didn’t invite a handshake, but something more.
“Dr. Silas, would you do me the honor of this dance?”
What was going on with everyone that they’d suddenly taken a strange interest in asking him to dance? Him, of all the people Lord Byewill had invited to Meadowgloom Manor.
“Y-yeah, I…would love to” Although the free sleeping pills Dr. Sal had been handing out to everyone he spoke with were suspicious, the man himself wasn’t quite so untrustworthy. He was a good listener, genuinely interested in what Silas had to say, and certainly pleasant to be around. One more song wouldn’t cause any harm.
“I'm not going to lie to you, Dr. Silas, I'm not the best dance partner that you might expect” Dr. Sal confessed once they had moved closer to the music. “I suppose you can understand, since you're in the academic field as well. We're so busy with our own research and inventions that we don't have time to attend many parties or dinners."
“Yes, no, I understand, I’m not the best dancer either” Silas said, his occasional clumsy steps—which ended up bumping into his dance partner’s feet—corroborating his statement.
“However, in this ballroom, you’ve been the one who’s danced the most” Dr. Sal’s words were entirely factual, shattering the mental calm Silas had barely managed to achieve just a few minutes after letting himself be carried away by the rhythm of the dance to which Sal had invited him.
“W-well, what can I say? I’m quite renowed haha” he joked, but deep down, despite his seemingly calm facade, there was a restlessness, an anxiety that crackled beneath the surface. Could it be that being surrounded more by ruins and artifacts than by people had begun to drive him mad?
“You certainly are, Dr. Silas” Dr. Sal agreed without much effort, looking him in the eyes with a warm smile and steering his dance in another direction to avoid bumping into the new couples who had joined in to the music. And Silas went blank, as a treacherous blush threatened to spread across his face. Was he always like this?
Dr. Sal stepped away with a cordial bow as soon as the second song they danced to ended. “Thank you for letting me dance with you, Dr. Silas. I’ll leave you now, it seems someone else wants to ask you to dance, given the intensity of the look they’re giving us.” Silas turned his head in the direction Sal Fin was looking and saw Oskar Rex and Jackie Daytona standing next to a pot of azaleas. It seemed as though they had been chatting, but both were looking at Silas—well, at least Oskar was still doing so, his expression was ambiguous. Jackie had suddenly turned toward the azalea pot, intently studying the delicate pink flowers to avoid his gaze, but his eyes occasionally drifted back to Silas.
“Oh, that architect?” Silas said, addressing Jackie, who was trying not to show his nervousness as he noticed Silas approaching “I think I should settle some things with him.”
“What? No, I meant—” But Silas was already facing the man who was avoiding him, even though he was the one who had been following Silas just a short while ago.
“Why were you following me?” he asked bluntly of the strangely behaving man, seeking an answer but no longer so sure he’d get one.
“A dance? Yeah, sure, I wouldn’t mind” Cutting off his questioning, Jackie Daytona dragged Dr. Silas to the center of the dance floor. It wasn’t the brightest plan, but it was the only thing he could do to distract the archaeologist from interrogating him.
“Huh?! Wait—” Of all his dance partners so far, Jackie Daytona was definitely the worst. Solomon Everest, even though he had forced him, handled the dance well with calculated steps befitting a man from high society. Dancing with Viktor Von Hohenfels—though Silas wouldn’t admit it out loud—was fun and hectic, but Viktor knew what he was doing, and for a brief moment, Silas felt the vitality of youth again. Dr. Sal was gentle; their feet would sometimes bump, causing them both to apologize at the same time and laugh when they realized it.
But Jackie Daytona was reckless and careless. He spun Silas around until he was dizzy, held him by the waist, and lifted him into the air, taking him by surprise, then dropping him to the floor and barely managing to catch him. Those dance moves—if they could even be called that—were an insult to the music that Lady Anna and Lord Edward were sharing with everyone that night.
By the time the dance ended, Silas was sweating and struggling to get air into his lungs and get his brain to solidify again. Jackie, between panting, said “Thank you for such a lovely dance, goodbye” before fleeing like a coward without letting Silas get the answer to the question he’d asked before the show he’d decided to put on for the amusement of the other guests.
“I didn't know you were so popular, my old friend.” Oskar appeared, teasing his friend lightly about his strange behavior, and Silas, turning around to try to defend his dignity—which had been tarnished over the last half hour—found himself met with an inviting palm.
Silas didn’t answer, not knowing what to say—he didn’t even know what was going on that night. But he questioned it no further; he placed his own hand on the outstretched one and wasn’t surprised when other hands settled on his body, drawing him closer to the other person.
It was the last song; dinner time was fast approaching according to the schedule.
The dancing was more subdued; the melody was slower than the previous songs. Oskar’s gaze was fixed on Silas, and although Silas’s own eyes were focused on his feet, which threatened to buckle, he could feel the icy amethyst piercing his skull.
“You’re pretty bad at this” Oskar commented, making him spin around.
“I know, you don’t have to mention it—”
“I can teach you”
“What?” Another spin. Many couples had already retired some time ago, chatting among themselves once again.
“Come over to my place sometime; you know you’re always welcome, Silas.”
The song ended, and the pair parted as the ballroom erupted in applause while Lady Anna and Lord Edward bowed to the audience and looked at each other with sparkles in their eyes and wide smiles on their faces.