Estelle Devereux stood in the hall, waiting for her turn to be announced. Queen Charlotte's Ball was something she'd dreamed about since she was a girl. This would be the night she'd be introduced to society. However, lately she felt as though she was a prized animal on her way to be sold to the highest bidder. She bit her lip, bouncing on her toes slightly. A hand came out to squeeze hers and she looked at the owner affectionately.

"It's alright to be nervous, Elle," her best friend, Annalise, told her. "But, remember that it's just a party."

They heard the heralds sound the trumpet, signaling the arrival of Queen Victoria on the opposite side of the doors.

"A very elaborate party," Estelle replied sardonically.

Annalise nudged her with her elbow and she cracked a smile.

"That's more like it, Elle. Besides, who knows who might be on the other side of that door," Annalise grinned.

"Queen Victoria," Estelle smirked.

"Besides the Queen," Annalise said with a roll of her eyes. "You might meet the one. Or, at the very least, some entertaining people that may become your friend."

"I wish I had your outlook on things, Anna," Estelle said wistfully. Ever since her mother died, her father had been urging her that she'd have to make a good match. She never quite understood why. After all, her parents had married for love. Why couldn't she? She shook herself from her reverie as the doors opened. Gently, she smoothed over the fabric of her green dress. She smiled softly at the gown her mother had designed before she died, specifically for her debut. To see it come to fruition made her happy. Her heart clenched at the thought that if only her mother could see her now, with her frilly sleeves and floral pattern beaded into the fabric. She supposed she looked beautiful. The line of ladies started to move and one-by-one they were introduced to the queen next to the cake.

"Your majesty," Estelle said with a deep curtsy to the queen.

"Devereux..." the queen murmured. "Tell us, are you of any relation to a Margaret?"

Estelle respectfully looked down. "Yes, your majesty. She was my mother."

"We are sorry for your loss," the Queen said with a small smile, lifting her hand so that Estelle would straighten herself out. "Your mother made quite the impression during her social season. We look forward to watching your experience."

The Queen nodded at Estelle, letting her know she was dismissed, and the line continued on. Estelle made her way into the crowd of partygoers. She scanned the room for the familiar flash of pink dress that was Annalise. With a smile, she made her way over, but she stopped in her tracks when she noticed who her friend was with. Christian. Her face broke out in a smile as she tried to get there as quickly as possible without making a fool of herself.

"Elle, there you are!" Annalise beamed when she turned to her friend. "How did your introduction go?"

Her words could have fallen on deaf ears as she watched Estelle and Christian regard each other. However, Annalise, ever the trooper, kept going.

"My introduction went fairly well. I figured I'd get a glass of something to drink and wait for you. While you were occupied, I met Mr. Thompson," Annalise explained. "Mr. Thompson, this is my friend-"

"Ellie," Christian beamed at her.

"Oh, you two know each other," Annalise remarked.

Estelle's eyes never left Christian as she responded. "We were friends a long time ago. It's been ages since we've seen each other," she murmured.

Christian smiled softly at her, taking her hand and gently kissing it. "'Were' friends? Darling, I thought we still are."

Estelle flushed scarlet, tucking a stray curl behind her ear as she avoided his gaze. "I suppose we've both changed quite a bit since we last spoke. We're proper strangers now."

Gently, he dropped her hand when it was no longer proper to hold it. Already, she missed the contact.

"Perhaps a dance is in order to get reacquainted," Annalise suggested.

Estelle's eyes flicked over to her friend. What was she playing at? Annalise just winked at her.

"May I have this dance, Ms. Devereux?" Christian asked, holding his hand out to her.

Part of her felt like taking his hand would imply giving him more than a dance, but she didn't care. She placed her hand in his. "You may, Mr. Thompson."

Christian led her to the middle of the ballroom. He bowed, she curtsied, and then they started to dance. Estelle felt like she was soaring above the crowd, or at least like they were the only two people in the room. A wistful smile came over his face as they twirled around the room to the waltz currently being played by the band.

"Is something amusing you, Mr. Thompson?" Estelle asked with a tilt of her head.

He looked down at her, blue eyes sparkling at whatever he was thinking. "I'm simply reminiscing. Do you remember all the times we used to dance?"

Estelle chuckled, drawing looks from surrounding couples who were dancing. "I don't believe you could call what we used to do dancing. We lacked rhythm and form. It wasn't anywhere near as elegant as this."

"No, but it was decidedly more fun," he replied with a lopsided grin.

The song came to an end and they regrettably parted ways as another man asked Estelle to dance. The other gentleman twirled her around, but it just wasn't the same. Her eyes caught Christian's over the man's shoulder as they passed by and he smiled. When the song ended, she made her way off the dance floor and out into the garden before anyone else could ask her to dance. The air was cool, but refreshing on her heated skin. She hadn't expected to see Christian at this ball. Although, she shouldn't have been too surprised. The Thompsons were a respectable family. Respectable enough to have an estate that was next to theirs in the country. Or at least... next to what used to be their estate in the country. Estelle leaned forward to smell a rose, closing her eyes to truly enjoy it.

"You always did like to stop and smell the roses," a voice said from behind her.

She smiled, keeping her eyes closed as she straightened. "Flowers grow to be enjoyed. Certainly, they are beautiful, Mr. Thompson, but surely we should appreciate more than just their beauty? Especially when they have other lovely qualities to offer."

She turned to regard him, carefully taking him in. He'd grown so much since they'd parted, but yet so much about him was the same. He was taller, more handsome, but he still had that same spark in his eyes. A spark she hoped he'd never let die. She gestured to the rose, encouraging him to smell it's fragrance.

"Do you feel like a flower?" he asked thoughtfully as he came over and bent at the waist to inhale. The sweetest smile crossed his face as he straightened.

"Is a woman not a flower?" she asked in response. "If one looked at the ball room like a bird in a tree looks over a garden, would they not see the same sight? Women in colorful dresses, putting on their best airs and making themselves colorful enough to be wanted in order to attract the bees of men."

His brow furrowed at her words. "You speak like a poet. Darling, what's wrong with attracting a bee?"

She smiled knowingly, wagging a pointed finger at him like she used to when they were children and she needed to teach him a lesson. "Bees pollinate flowers. They spread the pollen 'round and round. Bees have the ability to seek out other flowers when theirs start to wither and die. Bees don't have to tend to the flower as it dies on the vine," she gently reached out to hold a dying rose, smiling sadly at it. "No one wants the flower when its not at its best, for they don't truly love the flower. If they did... they'd know that the flower still had so much more to give, even after it looses its beauty."

He smiled at her as he softly asked, "And if someone cherished the flower in all forms?"

"Because they respected the flower or merely because they saw the usefulness of the flower?" she countered as she released the flower to regard him. She didn't quite realize it, but she was holding her breath as she awaited his answer.

"Perhaps they respect the flower, missing it terribly when it doesn't grow back every year. Still, as they're in the garden, they think of the flower and how the garden isn't quite the same without it," he replied.

"You missed me?" she asked breathlessly.

"Are we no longer discussing flowers?" he chuckled.

"Were we ever discussing flowers?" she countered with a raised brow.

"I have missed you," Christian replied. "When you didn't come back the following summer and someone else moved into the manor..."

"Father sold it when mother started to get sick. He said that moving around so often would be bad for her health," Estelle replied.

"I am so deeply sorry about your mother," he said, taking her hand. "Maggie was an incredible woman. Just like you."

"Thank you," Estelle blushed as he ran his thumb over the back of her hand. "You know, I never stopped thinking about you after we left. I regretted not being able to say goodbye."

"It wasn't a goodbye," Christian murmured. "I don't think there's a goodbye in the cards for us until we're old and gray."

She shook her head slightly at him, but a smile graced her face. "Mr. Thompson, you have grown."

"As have you," he smiled as they started to walk down a garden path.

"How many seasons have you been here for?" she asked curiously.

"Three, darling. They get harder and harder as the time goes on," he chuckled.

"Harder how?" she asked, brow furrowing.

"Perhaps 'harder' wasn't the correct term," he said thoughtfully. "Stifling. Yes, they get more stifling. Although, I guess that is high society as a whole."

"Oh? Enlighten me, Mr. Thompson, what exactly is so stifling about the London season?" Estelle asked in amusement, humoring him as they came to rest in front of a fountain in the garden. Gently, she sat on the edge, ever the captive audience.

"Well, darling, they put so much emphasis on the wrong things," he told her.

"Such as?"

"Well... Titles, wealth, outward beauty," he replied, eyes alight as he caught onto a train of thought, ready to ride it wherever it may lead. "It's all about making an advantageous match. Very rarely is it about love. It's about what you can do for that person to help them get a leg up in society, not about what you could be for that person, or what you can build together."

She tilted her head thoughtfully as she considered his words. "Survival of the fittest at its finest."

"Darwin, Ellie?"

She shrugged. "I may have been spending the past six years learning how to manage a household for a husband, but that doesn't mean I stopped educating myself on the world when I could."

He smiled. Yes, he may have changed, but she hadn't. He ran a hand through his hair, messing it up slightly. "Do you know what the problem is with society?"

"I'm sure there are many answers to that, but I'm interested to hear yours," she grinned.

"Everyone is too comfortable. They seek comfort in material things. Those things may make them physically comfortable, but those things don't soothe the soul," he replied enthusiastically. "None of those things matter in the end, and none of them are required to be truly happy. You can... you can have all the money in the world to buy all the prestige and material comforts you wanted and still be unhappy. What really matters... what's really important are things like freedom, beauty, truth, and love."

It clicked in her mind why he was still here after three years. If he talked like this with anyone else, they would be scared to match with him. He threatened their livelihoods, believing in intangible things. Things that could be felt, but had no monetary value. Although, she'd heard of these ideas before, albeit briefly.

"You're speaking like a Bohemian," she finally said. It wasn't an accusation, nor was it an insult. She was merely stating a fact.

A wistful look crossed his face. "Yes, I suppose I am."

She gently took his hand, dropping formality. Society was in the ball room. Out here they were just two friends getting reacquainted. "Christian, why haven't you found someone?"

His face fell a bit as he looked to the ground, dejected. "I..." he sighed. "I suppose I'm still waiting for love. I know that's not necessary for a society marriage, but it's something I don't want to compromise on." He shook his head at the silliness of it.

"It's not wrong to want love," she said gently. "Especially when you'll be tied to that person for the rest of your lives."

"Whenever I start talking about these things, slowly people begin to shut me out," he said softly, "They think I'm foolhardy. In a way, I suppose they're right. There are real ramifications to running a house hold with someone. Should either person commit a crime, they are held responsible. But, if someone breaks your heart? If you trust someone enough to let them in, to see all your flaws and hopes, and they betray that trust... nothing happens to them. You're left with the pieces, but they're none the wiser. Only a fool would want to fall in love."

Estelle reached out to tip his chin up. His eyes flicked up to hers as she responded. "If 'love's reason's without reason,' then only a fool could fall in love," she said with a smile.

"Shakespeare," he smiled, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. His hand lingered a bit longer than it should have.

Estelle cleared her throat. "I suppose we should return to the ball."

He nodded, standing to offer her his hand. Gingerly, she took it to stand. She smoothed out her dress and straightened her back.

"Shall we?" he asked, holding his arm out for her.

Tilting her chin up at him, she smiled. "We shall."

They returned to the ball room to enjoy what was left of the festivities, together. After a few more hours of dancing and interacting with society, Annalise appeared at Estelle's elbow.

"Elle, our carriage has arrived to take us home," Annalise informed her.

Elle nodded. "Very well."

Christian raised a brow at her. "May I call on you at home?"

"I would like that," she smiled. "Good night, Mr. Thompson."

"Have a safe trip home, Ms. Devereux," he smiled before nodding respectfully.

Estelle hooked her arm through Annalise's and walked out with her to the carriage. She looked out at the palace wistfully as the carriage pulled away.

"Well, that was certainly a fun night," Annalise beamed.

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself, Anna," she grinned. "Did you meet the one?"

Annalise shrugged. "I met a few gentlemen of great renown. I'm sure my parents would be proud if they chose to court me. I really just wanted to enjoy myself tonight and make friends."

Estelle smirked and shook her head at her friend.

"Now, you on the other hand," Annalise said pointedly. "Seem to have already found a match."

"What are you talking about?" Estelle asked in confusion.

"Mr. Thompson. The two of you seem quite smitten with one another," she teased.

"We're simply old friends catching up," she replied halfheartedly.

"Yes, well, you know what they say about houses, don't you?"

Estelle's nose scrunched up as she turned to face her friend, "No, Anna, what do they say about houses?"

"They require a strong foundation in order to withstand the test of time."

Estelle blushed as she looked out the window. Perhaps she and Christian could be something more. They were quite similar, and they had been good friends as children. Perhaps... perhaps Annalise was onto something. She couldn't deny that Christian was handsome. Not to mention, she enjoyed listening to him wax on about the Bohemian ideals. In a way, she did agree with most- if not all- the things he said. His family was of good social and financial standing, so her father would approve. He had also asked to call on her, so maybe he wanted to see if something could blossom for them. Although, friends also called on each other as well. She sighed softly. Only time would tell.