And despite my disgust towards the reason for the event, I was delighted to attend. Delighted, for it might have been my last chance to say what I needed to before the end.
“You owe me a dance!” Florence offered me a goblet of wine from the table, taking a sip of her own.
“All right,” I laughed; the first drop of wine slipped onto my tongue, the sour filling my mouth. “I will gladly dance with you.”
Florence stretched her hand towards me, setting her goblet back onto the table, as the music turned into a faster tune.
“Now?” My brows furrowed, taking another sip of my wine. “I haven’t had enough alcohol to dance in front of an audience.” I laughed, glancing at the overflowing center of the ballroom.
“Come now, Cordelia, you have nothing to worry about. Your dancing skills are splendid!” Florence beamed, setting my goblet onto the table before dragging me to the center of the room.
“You are too generous,” I argued, yet took her hand in mine all the same, the other falling onto her shoulder.
“I am not!” Florence spun us into a dance. “And you still must tutor me, remember?”
“Once the war is over.” I nodded, my feet rushing to match her skilled steps.
“Once the war is over.” Florence’s lips stretched into a small smile.
The music slowed, willing our movement to follow suit; the chords of piano quieted, revealing the delicate notes of violin that complemented the suspenseful cello.
“No matter what happens tomorrow,” I started, my voice lowering to reach only Florence. “I wanted to thank you for the kindness you’ve showed me—”
“No.” Florence shook her head, halting our dance. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” Her grip hardened around my hands.
“I want you to know how grateful I am, in case—” I persisted.
“You can tell me when it’s over.” Florence’s gaze darkened into a glare. “Cease allowing such thoughts.”
“Florence...” I swallowed the growing lump in my throat as her hands enveloped me in an embrace, my own squeezing her tight.
“Everything will be well,” she whispered.
I closed my eyes, pulling her closer, willing my mind to remember this in my last moments. I wished Sandra and I had such an opportunity before the end—
“You do know this part of the room is for dancing, right?” My eyes flew open as Francis’ raspy voice reached my ears. “Is it my turn yet?” He met my gaze offering me a hand.
Florence and I broke apart before she nodded, “I should find Roxy.” She gave me one last squeeze on my shoulders. “Thank you for the dance!”
Francis and I watched her slip away between the dancing pairs, her crimson dress flowing behind her in beautiful waves.
“Is everything all right?” Francis leaned to whisper into my ear.
“Yes!” I put a smile on my face, taking his hand into mine.
“Don’t worry, I will try to not outshine you during our dance.” Francis winked as his hand landed on my waist, pulling me closer.
“You couldn’t if you tried,” I teased, increasing the tempo of our dance. The new piece played, the piano stealing the attention of the ballroom.
Francis’ eyes softened under my gaze, his features relaxed. A lazy smile tugged on his lips as his body pressed against mine.
“This is not our last dance,” I stated, my nails digging into his blazer.
Francis’ brows furrowed as he leaned to whisper into my ear, “Of course it isn’t, love.” He planted a kiss on my cheek. “I finally got a dancing partner that can sometimes match my skill, I will be stealing dances for centuries to go.”
I rolled my eyes, ready to respond with my own remark as his lips landed on mine.
A rush of adrenaline spread through my body in reply.
