Chapter 6
Chapter Six
That evening, the ballroom was gloriously decorated for the champions’ ball.
Everything glittered with polish and sheen.
Golden pillars lined the room, and deep blue satin drapes outlined the latticed windows.
Chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling glowed with hundreds of twinkling candles and illuminated the family crest at the head of the hall.
The palace staff circulated among the twirling guests with glasses of fine liqueurs.
The Duchess had spared no expense in celebrating the honorable swordsmen that had made Chevalerie proud.
The Duke and Duchess sat towards the head of the room, presiding over the illustrious event.
Everyone was in a jolly mood after the competition.
A new champion had been crowned and no great upsets had happened like many years ago.
Though they had each fared well, none of the men traveling with Philippe had won the title.
The title was taken by a brick wall of a man from the East, who looked as though he had descended from Mount Olympus.
Feeling especially frustrated, Philippe decided that he would participate and take the title himself the next year.
Too long had it gone to someone outside of the region.
He sat near his parents, his thumb rubbing the scar on his lip. In line with his sour mood, he had no interest in the party that night. He was too preoccupied with the journey tomorrow and the one thing he had to do that night before they could proceed.
The people danced before Philippe and his parents as a popular waltz began.
“Come, my boy,” he exclaimed, slapping Philippe on his back. “‘Tis your last night in town. There are many beautiful women. Enjoy yourself.”
Philippe grumbled and waved him off. “I have not the right mind for women tonight, father.”
“You need to relax,” said his father. “You need your wits tomorrow, but tonight you should get any restless energy out.”
That’s when she entered the room. Philippe saw her instantly, entering far towards the back.
She wore a simple cream-colored gown that had a deep ruby brooch at her breast. Her hair was pinned back from her face, but still tumbled down her back.
Her dress was far simpler than the other women in the room, but instead of making her get lost in the crowd, she stood out as being all the more elegant.
Philippe watched, mesmerized, as she moved towards the front of the room, where she bowed before his parents, and continued to ignore him.
She had ignored him completely since the night he’d kissed her.
He made a point of watching her whenever he could, but she never turned to his eyes.
Not even once. It was driving him insane.
During preparation meetings when he would speak to his troops she would look down, or away, or at a map, anywhere in the room but at him.
What could he do? He couldn’t get her to even look at him.
She didn’t disobey him in any regard, she just wouldn’t give him her eyes.
And oh, how he felt it. It was the one type of contact that had always connected them beyond words and social protocol, whether fighting, teasing, or in the moments when there was more.
The funny thing was, he’d never even thought it significant, until it was gone.
Tonight, he would address it. Before they left on this journey, he had to address it, if for nothing more than the success of the mission.
He couldn’t have her avoiding him in any way, and it had nothing to do with his own guilt or his attraction.
They had to be comfortable working together, for the mission.
That was it and nothing more, he told himself again and again.
He continued to watch her. She dipped through the crowd as several men turned and took her in.
He saw her decline a dance with a heartbreaking smile, and he felt his blood pulse in his veins as each new set of eyes landed on her.
Finally, she worked her way to a small corner near the balcony doors, where she sat down, placing her hands in her lap.
When she stopped, he stood.
“Where are you going?” asked his mother.
“I shall return,” he said over his shoulder as he made his way across the same path she had taken. Philippe made less of a stir than Alex had on the dance floor, but it still took him a moment to get through the crowd. When he approached her, she kept her eyes averted.
“I need to talk with you,” he said.
“The trip is all set. There is no pressing need,” she said.
“I should like to talk to you in private,” he said again.
She stood up, preparing to walk away. He blocked her.
“Don’t worry, Monsieur,” she said, adjusting the lace around her waist. “I shall cause you no grief on the road,” she replied, her eyes cast down. “I will be supportive as your guide.” She began to move around him.
“I still need to speak with you,” he said, blocking her path.
“I have no interest in talking.”
He reached forward and grabbed her arm. “Sorry to do it this way, but you are as stubborn as an ox. I shall not begin this journey with you until you hear me out.”
Holding onto her arm, he moved her to the balcony doors and pulled her outside. He released her and for the first time since he had kissed her, she looked directly at him, but this time with an anger in her eyes that could have stopped the crusades. It shot an arrow straight through him.
“Whatever you wish to tell me, I don’t wish to hear it,” she spat.
He took a step towards her, but she backed away. He took another step and she backed away again. Exasperated, he struck like a snake and grabbed her hand. She tried to jerk it away, but he held on.
They stood staring at each other for a moment, Alex glowering and Philippe feeling a heady rush at seeing that fury in her eyes again. He took a deep breath and lowered himself to a bow.
He touched his forehead to the back of her hand. After a moment, he spoke. “I wish to apologize for the wrongs I have done unto you.” He paused. “All of them.”
“You’ve apologized to me already.”
“Not really,” he said. He raised his head and looked up at her. “You never deserved any of that treatment, and I am sorry.”
She glared at him and then turned towards the sky, starlight falling across her face. Then she sighed and brought her eyes to meet his. She nodded but said nothing more.
“I’m not asking for forgiveness at this moment,” he continued. “I do hope to have it one day. But for now, I promise you will see a different side of me on this journey. I won’t make you uncomfortable.” He paused. “I would like us to become friends again.”
“It would make everything much easier,” she sighed.
“We must be able to work together.”
She nodded. “Okay,” she conceded.
Philippe stood up and smiled at her. “Come now. Enjoy the rest of your evening. That is all I wished to say.” He held his arm out back towards the party.
Across the great hall, the Duke and the Duchess sat in rapt attention watching the door to the balcony as Alex and Philippe reentered the ballroom.
Upon returning, Alex went in one direction and Philippe the other.
But this time, Philippe wore a small, private smile as he worked his way back through the crowd.
“Have I made a mistake in putting them together for this task, Bleu?” asked Guillaume.
“I’m done trying to protect Alex from him. They are adults. They have to figure it out for themselves,” replied Laure.
“Protect Alex? Look at that fool,” he said. “Smiling like a dope. I hope he can keep his head on straight. This is important business they set out for in the morning.”
“You have chosen your soldiers well, mon amour. Don’t worry about it now. ‘Tis up to Lady Fate to decide what happens on their journey. Let’s just hope she protects them.”
Philippe approached them. “Goodnight Mother, Father. I will retire now. We must be up before the sun.” Then, with the same quiet grin, he left the great hall.
Guillaume breathed heavily. “That’s the first time he’s left a ball alone.”
“It’s about time,” said Laure.