Ciel watched the fluid motion of Elizabeth's blue lacy dress as it folded in and wavered out from her dancing form. She was currently waltzing with another (taller) boy of her age at that night's ball, since he refused to escort her himself. He'd been too busy when she had asked him to do so—he wasn't thinking straight, he kept reminding himself—he wasn't to blame. It appeared as if she had come with her brother secondly, for Edward was clearly keeping a sharp eye on his precious sister across the room.
So, everything worked out in the end anyways. It was fine.
Elizabeth looked good; as good as she always looked at that. Even if he had promised himself he wouldn't speak to her just yet, he couldn't help to wonder what she'd been thinking. She was laughing while the boy twirled her around. Once that direction, and now the other way. Apparently, he possessed a great sense of humor, Ciel noted dully. She was very amused by his witty comments he seemed to be telling her…a little too amused, maybe. Ciel remembered the carefree days of their childhood together, and he knew that smile on her painted lips was genuine.
Hn. Couldn't Elizabeth recognize the boy was only buttering her up, nothing more?
Ciel strolled forward onto the dancefloor at last. "Sebastian, just stay here and keep watch as usual."
"Of course, Milord."
Ciel had decided at that moment that it was time to remind the stranger how impolite, not to mention improper, it was for him to try and court an engaged lady.