Chapter Forty-Six: Dear

                                    

                                          
    Was she trying to kill him? All evening, all he could think about was her, all he could look at was her. He could stop looking at her. He had never seen so much skin, nor such a bright, flirtatious smile coming from her normally pouting lips. She ruthlessly flirted with every man, not giving them the chance to realize what was happening. She was killing him. How he managed to sit across from her in the carriage  - which was hard enough, given her shaking and his need to comfort her - he didn't know. From the moment he saw her on the stairs his blood had been boiling. With every other young man who was infatuated by her, his fingers itched for the lasso that was not in his sleeve. His heart pounded in his chest. He wanted to drag her out of the ballroom to somewhere the world would not know to look. But as he had learned twice now, kidnapping was not the answer.
                          
   Yet she was taunting him, the forbidden fruit that he could not reach. And not because of his or her own vows, but their combined unspoken agreements. She wanted nothing to do with him, and he would not force himself. He would not make her listen to what he had to say. So he let her flirt. So he ignored his burning rage, his boiling jealousy, and his fiery desire.
                          
   Fortunately, Celi quickly grew tired of flirting. She was reminded once again why she did not like large gatherings, nor people. She drifted, slowly of course, back to Erik's side and stayed on his arm for the remainder of the night. A night that took a very comical turn when she found out he had never had one of her favorite deserts.
                          
   "Two chocolates, please," she told a servant before addressing Erik. "You poor darling. I've forgotten you have lived as a grouchy old hermit under two opera houses for most of your life. You've never experienced most indulgences."
                          
  She handed him a bowl of a frozen brown lump and a spoon. He stared at her, at a loss. She was already eating hers. "It's ice cream, honey, you eat it."
                          
"I'm aware that you eat it, but... what is it?"
                          
  "Shut up and don't chew - a smaller bite than that, you'll freeze your head!"
                          
   Erik followed her instructions, hesitantly. He found she was absolutely right. "My god, how is it you know where to find the best cake and then this... creamed ice?"
                          
   "Ice cream. Because I am all-knowing." She had not known just how hungry she was until that moment. It seemed as if her weeks of barely eating had caught up to her and she was considering seconds. If her corset permitted it, that is. "I thought you weren't a fan of food."
                          
  "You make everything better." Celi dropped her spoon on the floor. She was about to respond, a was cut off.
                          
  "My, my, Grace. Still clumsy as ever, I see?" A nasal female voice came from her shoulder.
                          
   "Hello Trudy. I changed my name. It's Celine now," she spat.
                          
   Erik watched her and another girl size each other up - in a ladylike manner, though, for this Trudy was a lady and Celi immediately took up airs at her presence.
                          
   "Even when we were little you were changeful. It's a shame not all people can outgrow their childlike qualities."
                          
  "It is a shame some people are born adults. The miss out on having fun and a life."
                          
   Trudy smiled cruelly. She was about Celine's stature, perhaps a bit taller. Her eyes were dull and cold, and Erik disliked her greatly. Her voice made ears sore.
                          
   "Your version of fun and mine, are two different things."
                          
   "Oh?"
                          
  "Well let's just say," Trudy said. "I don't move from man to man. First Rodger. Now your handsome masked friend. Who's next? Who will you use to climb the theatrical ladder next, Celine? A director?"