Stars Fade Blue

"Take us to meet Eleonore," Camellia demanded her daughter. She locked her arm tightly around Farrah's to prevent the latter from getting away and instilling fear so that she would behave.

"Yes mother," Farrah complied and gently led the way to meet her classmate through the bustle of guests. The music was quite loud, but was barely audible over the sound of laughter and speech. There were hundreds of people in attendance at Lady Eleonore Yves-Leventhorpe's congratulatory ball. Many were wealthy, titled, families and it was clear that the governor was itching to meet them all.

Upon approaching Eleonore, Farrah became nervous, for the former's elder brother was mere steps away. Their parents were by their daughter's side, smiling and more than happy to share their home with such a mass of people.

"Farrah! How nice to see you again," Eleonore began, genuinely pleased that her classmate had come. For more reasons than one might suspect. "Your dress is lovely," she complimented with a smile.

"Thank you," Farrah replied gracefully. "As is yours… These are my parents," she started, "Governor Piccolet and Lady Camellia." Her words were hollow as she spoke, as were her eyes, and for the first time Eleonore understood why Farrah had always seemed so strange.

"Very nice to meet you," Eleonore said politely, and gestured to her own parents. "I think you remember my parents, Earl Leventhorpe and Countess Yves."

"I do," Farrah recalled with a fake smile. Both the earl and his wife seemed ecstatic that she had come. Their eyes were alight with joy and excitement. "It seems you have more guests to greet, so perhaps I shall speak with you again later."

"Of course," Eleonore smiled as Farrah and her parents wished her well and walked away.

For the sake of appearances, the governor was able to leave his daughter, but his wife was not so lucky. She was forced to act as a chaperone to their youngest child and walk her around like she was blind. This irritated Camellia, but motivated her to parade Farrah around in the hopes of attracting the attention of Major General the Viscount Emmerich Vida Rex Yves-Leventhorpe of Ewaldwine.

In order to open the door for the viscount to speak with her daughter, Camellia sought out the company of his sister Cosette. They had met at Farrah's party and she hoped this acquaintance would bait her catch.

"Oh, how nice to see you again," Cosette greeted. Farrah sensed that the only reason she had accepted her mother's conversational advances was because of her brother.

"And you," Camellia ingratiated. It was almost sickening how sweet the governor's wife acted when she truly wanted something.

"Your dress is lovely," Cosette complimented Farrah, verbatim what her sister had said.

Farrah's dress was elegantly simple. It was in the empire style as all of her other dresses, and shared similar elbow-length sleeves. Its neckline was deep and rounded, showing off the young woman's voluptuousness. It was made of pale blue silk with a sheer white lace layer over top; it flowed with her every step, and the gathered bodice was separated from the skirts with a beautiful silvery ribbon. Her pale skin was glistening with sparkles her mother had forced upon her and her hair was put up in an appropriately loose way. Her bony hands were covered with long gloves that matched the ribbon on her dress, but her mother had told her to only wear one petticoat so the dress would cling to her soft skin.

Needless to say, she had caught the attention of more men than Emmerich. He was dazed by her brazen choices, but left speechless by her beauty and grace. The fact that her attire was bold did not leave anyone with the wrong impression of her, they were only curious. This was frustrating to the viscount, however, because she had been so unnoticed by so many that he was sure he would have no competition. For a few moments he was not so sure of that anymore.

"You remember my brother, Emmerich," Cosette articulated as the aforementioned approached. He was tense with nervousness, but relaxed slightly when his sister gripped his arm affectionately.

"Yes, of course," Camellia affirmed. Each of them allowed a brief smile to one another.

"Oh, I'm afraid I'm being requested by an old friend," Cosette sighed casually. "I do apologize," she said as she bid adieu and walked away toward no one in particular.

Left alone, Emmerich cleared his throat and crossed his arms behind his back. He avoided meeting Farrah's gaze for quite some time before mustering up enough confidence to look at her.

"Your dress is lovely," he addressed her. She nodded in thanks, realizing that was the third compliment she had received with the exact same words.

"Thank you," she responded graciously. After a few more awkward moments, Farrah felt a hard pinch on her arm from her mother, a sign that she needed to say what her mother had told her to say when it had come time. Apparently, the time had come. "I've been told your gardens here are quite beautiful," she sputtered. Camellia grinned in approval, knowing the viscount would fall right in to her trap.

"They are," he replied, his mouth dry. For him that was one of those now or never moments, and he was prepared to take it. "Perhaps I could show you." He looked to Camellia. "May I request a private audience with your daughter to take her through the gardens?" His request was rather unconventional and could be perceived as suspicious, but it seemed no one minded.

"That sounds wonderful," Camellia smiled, releasing her iron grip on her daughter's arm and stepping away.

"Shall we go, then?" Emmerich asked Farrah, careful to keep his voice masculine because his nerves were tempting it to crack. He watched her nod and gestured for her to follow by his side. Farrah kept pace with him through the crowded rooms until they reached the open doors that led out to the vast, weakly lit gardens.

No one in the party had even thought twice of the viscount and Miss Piccolet. They were preoccupied by other things. The only people that had noticed were the earl, his wife, Eleonore, Cosette, and the governor. Each of them was pleased.

Emmerich and Farrah walked beside each other with enough space in between to not appear scandalous. Every few steps there was a small single-candle lantern hung on a post to light the pathways. Light from the house cast a glow over parts of the gardens, but as Emmerich and Farrah got farther and farther away, their world was illuminated by only weak lanterns and a sliver-moon's light.

The light summer breeze made Farrah's dress cling closer to her body. She tried desperately to peel the seemingly damp undergarments from her skin in the most discrete way, but she was noticed. They were far enough from watchful eyes, and the only noises they heard came from nocturnal insects and birds and their own footsteps, so Emmerich had become a bit more daring in his ventures to win over Farrah.

"Don't," he whispered and grabbed her bare hand---since she had removed her gloves to feel the flowers---tenderly from her dress. They had stopped. He watched her warily as she slowly met his gaze.

His touch made her skin tingle; a sensation spread through her body and left bumps on the surface. Her heart raced, pulsating through her chest and becoming almost audible. Her lungs were tight and she could barely breathe. She felt like she would faint, and she did drop her silk gloves from her other hand, but found she couldn't move. His hands were warm and rough and gentle. She did not want him to let go.

"I think it looks lovely the way it is," he managed to say, gazing into her perfect eyes.

"Really?" she gulped.

"Yes," he breathed, taking a brave step toward her. She did not object, only wished he would come even closer. "You're lovely."

"Thank---" she began, but was interrupted by the commotion of horses and shouting and screaming and yelling and then the sound of someone running up to them.

"Major…General…" a man panted, "the war has begun."

With one last look, Emmerich let go of Farrah's hand and followed after the man as he ran back to the house. She watched him leave, sorrow filling her gut. If he were to die in this war, she would be right back where she had been. Before he got too far, though, he looked back over his shoulder and paused for a moment.

"I will write you!" he shouted and then kept running to fulfill his military duty.



*gasp* Oh no!

=]

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