Fifty

With Mason determined to forge new business relationships and Graham on the prowl, I am left alone standing at the edge of the room, while the string quartet fills the room with the languid notes of a waltz. Nobody is dancing, everyone is engrossed in their conversations, while the serving staff swerves among them bringing them food and drinks. A group of women on my far right are covertly throwing glances at me, whispering and snickering behind their hands, trying and failing to be inconspicuous.

Wonderful, just what I needed. I'm well aware that I'm not the most beautiful woman out there, but still, no need to put salt over the wound.

With a heavy sigh, I lift the glass of bubbly and empty it in one fell sweep. If I am to survive an evening of pointing and being judged by prissy stuck-up women, might as well do it while I'm drunk.

Well, that's a slight exaggeration, maybe, just slightly buzzed. Tolerable, that is what I'm looking for, is to make this evening tolerable.

Timeea catches my eye over the rim of her glass and gives me a nod, while one of the snickering ladies breaks free from the herd and makes her way towards me.

Just what I needed.

Gracefully gliding over the pellucid floor, I take in her luxurious dress, the gems on her cerulean blue dress wink at me just like the stars on a clear night sky, making her strikingly beautiful. Marbled, curled golden hair cascading over her shoulders and over her ample bosom fills my field of vision, and all of a sudden, I find myself dragged onto memory lane. Many years back, I met this woman. She's been in our house, I've bumped into her on the corridor during her walk of shame. She is the epitome of the type of women Mason sought and brought home more than once.

Her plum-coloured pillowy lips stretch in an open smile as she slides in front of me and stretches her hand, " Amalia Thornhope. I believe we have met before, " Dear God, her voice is so subtle, it feels like a caress, enchanting, hypnotic. I take in her angelic features, button nose, high cheekbones, radiating elegance, demanding attention without seeking it. Unbidden, my eyes rove over the deep neckline exposing her generous curves, trying to find my words, without sounding like an absolute dim witt.

" Mason spoke a lot about you in our short time together. Lily, is it?" Kudos, to her for her excellent memory. If memory doesn't betray me, it has been more than a few years since he has seen her.

Catching myself before I fall even deeper into the rabbit hole, I swallow the thick knot of emotion lodged in my throat, along with the desire to maul her delicate features, " Yes, " It comes out thickly, mainly due to the fact that my tongue feels swollen, and my mouth drier than the red desert.

She smiles warmly at me, dropping her hand back to her side, " My, my, how have you grown? Last I saw you, you were thin as a rake, " Thanks for the reminder. Luckily, I haven't had enough alcohol to suppress all my inhibitions, but still, that comment opened a wound I'm not very fond of. I've spent, many years of my life avoiding mirrors, or any reflective surfaces due to the way my body looked, and now in less than three sentences, she brought it all back. Probably, the reason why they were snickering behind their hands like some snivelling bitches.

With my hackles up, " Your point being?" I say, my tone colder than the arctic. With furrowed brows, her gaze sweeps over my body settling on my left hand, specifically on the ring I'm wearing.

" You're married," She notes slightly taken aback, as she turns to scan the room for the man I came with. Fortunately, he is nowhere in sight, otherwise, the evidence of our latest covenant would be glaringly obvious.

" Very observant of you. You should be proud of yourself, nothing gets by you, " I inject enough sarcasm in my tone, to make it obvious that I'm not pleased with where this conversation is heading.

" Quite the attitude, " She notes with a secretive smirk, returning her attention to me, while I silently pray that Mason would stay wherever he is.

" If you're done making pointless observations, I would like to take my leave and enjoy the rest of the evening, " I say mildly amused, noting the furrow of her brows. Something is bothering her, she wants something, hence why she is speaking to me. And that reason is Mason.

" So, is Mason here with you? I know that you are his ward," She finally gets to the point.

" Was. The correct formula is ' I was Mason's ward,'" I take a deep breath to steel myself, the fumes of alcohol loosening my tongue, the tension coiled in my limbs easing ever so slightly.

She nods and hums with a small smile. Pillowy lips stretch wider, and wider as she regards with an inquisitive eye.

" I see, " She takes a small breath in, her chest rising and falling accordingly pushing her ample bosom up, making it visibly bigger than it already is. Jesus, I need to get a grip. It is hard not to notice when it's five inches from my face. Also, feeling slightly jealous of said ample bosom.

A warm hand slides under the cape, splaying on the small of my back, his presence invading my senses while Amalia's eyes widen to the size of dinner plates, her lush lips stretching into a breathtaking smile in his presence. She squares her shoulders, pushing her breasts even closer to my face and I feel the urge to break the glass beneath our feet so she would sink to the bottom of the lake under the palace. Never to be seen again. Wishful thinking.

" Mason," She says breathlessly, flustered, cheeks flushed, slightly panting. I'm well acquainted with the rush of emotions his presence evokes, and I know the woman in front of me is aroused. Shamelessly, so.

" You'll have to forgive me, but do we know each other, " His velvety voice rolls over me, like a mist on an early summer morning. I smirk from behind my empty glass, a rush of relief washes over me, while Amalia's face falls, arousal is replaced by shame as she sputters under her breath, trying and failing to find her words.