Author's Note: This story is dedicated to my girlfriend, Lily, because today is her birthday and she loves Tomoyo and Eriol. Now, I do not usually write for CCS, but since this is a special occasion, I thought I might as well make her happy. For the readers, enjoy.

Disclaimer: Card Captor Sakura still belongs to CLAMP, last time I checked.

The Courting of the Butterfly

by Bluefish

Chapter I: Lady from the Far East

One evening, in an upstate London manor, a grand social event of the year was being held. The invitations to the ball had been much coveted by every aspiring socialite since the beginning of the year. So many people tried to get their hands on the invitations, it was rumored that a certain piece of paper could fetch a hefty sum in the black market. One knew that an attendance in the affair could boost one's prestige, and for the hopeful mothers with unwed daughters, this was the prime bachelor hunting ground.

The lady of the party was a highly acclaimed matriarch in the society, and she obtained her position by being an excellent hostess. The Duchess of Wordsworth spared nothing to please her guests, and the deliberate extravagance showed everywhere. It was supposed to be a night to remember, an event of no social comparison for years to come.

Waves of laughter and buzzing conversations drowned the musicians' tunes. On the crowded dance floor, guests waltzed awkwardly, bumping against each other while also trying to follow music they could scarcely hear. The party was in full swing and the atmosphere was merry. The guests were clearly enjoying and indulging themselves.

Except one man. In one corner, he stood alone, holding his drink in one hand. The tall youth's gaze was fixed on the dancers, but the blank look he had gave away his lack of interest. If one observed closely, one would find him an attractive man. His tailored black evening attire, contrasting with his white shirt and neckloth, fitted him perfectly. His clean-shaven jaw made him look fresh out of the nursery, though childish he was not. His features, however, merited a second glance. It's not everyday a Londoner could find a pair of almond-shaped eyes like his, nor his shade of dark hair. He was close to being described as exotic, looking as if he had come from some faraway Oriental kingdoms in legends.

Earl Eriol Hiiragizawa sighed.

He was bored beyond comparison, even though his surroundings hinted he should feel differently. The party was reaching its peak, dazzling debutantes and other immaculately dressed, fresh-faced youths colored the ballroom. People laughed, danced, ate, and drank themselves to stupor. Yet he remained aloof, guarding his corner possessively. Earlier that night, one lady had spotted him in the room and tried to engage him in a conversation, while shoving her well-endowed cleavage to his face. Her intentions made clear, Eriol excused himself.

That was not the first nor the last time a woman did that to him. Finding him handsome and eligible--the latter quality seemed to be more appealing–the female population of the society had made it their objective to nail the elusive Earl Hiiragizawa down. They thought of it as a race, a competition to be won, and unfortunately, he was the main prize, along with his numerous estates and earldom.

Nay, Eriol smirked, especially those. He knew that most ladies were only after his wealth and title. Not him. Sadly, he was not interested in anything they had to offer. If he had wanted a warm body in his bed, he didn't have any difficulties obtaining one. If he had wanted a wife, which he didn't, he won't be looking at those ladies who seductively flashed their bosoms to him.

After several more attempts from other women to catch his attention, Eriol gave up socializing. He had enough, and wisely retreated to a lonely corner. The private rooms were filled with heated lovers in the middle of reckless trysts, and the balcony only invited the most romantic sorts. He didn't want to give anybody a reason to push him into an unwanted situation, therefore he chose a corner. Over the years, he had learned to blend himself into the background. He could be the very center of attention he wished to, but more often than not he liked his solitude.

The only reason he stayed in this party was Lord Percival Worthington, the current Duke of Wordsworth, his late father's old friend and business partner. As the late Earl Hiiragizawa's son, Eriol had an obligation to maintain a good relationship with the Duke. Once he had made himself known, he would escape from this hell hole as soon as possible. However, the goddess of fortune didn't smile on him that night. The Duchess had dragged her husband around, conversing jovially with every single guest they encountered. Interrupting the Duchess meant another introduction to a hopeful mother whose daughter was still, oh, conveniently single.

Eriol wondered from which rabbit hole those wide-eyed mothers popped out every time he was introduced.

After several more minutes of silence, Eriol finally had his chance. The Duke was free at last, and only his fellow White's members surrounded him. He approached the man, wearing a polite smile on his face. When the Duke noticed the incoming Earl Hiiragizawa, he beamed like a proud father.

"Eriol! I had almost thought that you're not coming!" the Duke of Wordsworth said, while slapping the taller, younger man's shoulder with one beefy hand.

"It is my pleasure to be here, my dear Duke," he replied, almost automatically.

"Nonsense, Eriol. I know how much you hate parties like this." The Duke winked, and Eriol couldn't help but smile. He was certain that the Duke himself was more than ready to end the night. He let the older man stir him into the center of the ballroom, where the Duke suddenly said, "But don't leave yet. I have a terrific surprise for my guests."

After saying this, the Duke clapped his hands loudly and the music stopped. Conversations were halted, the dancers stopped moving, and soon silence filled the room. Murmurs of confusion came from the guests, and some craned their necks to see what had happened. Hundreds pairs of eyes were focused on the Duke, but Eriol also felt glances directed to his person. He even caught two girls giggling at him.

What does the Duke want?

Eriol was getting flustered, being near the spotlight, although he would never let it show. He knew how to handle himself too well.

"My proud, fellow nobles, I hope you are enjoying yourselves tonight," the Duke's voice boomed throughout the silent room. The guests cheered and clapped, showing their approval, but the Duke motioned them silent again.

"You must be wondering why I halted the party," he paused for a dramatic effect, "It is my pleasure to present all of you with a surprise." Now the host had everyone's full attention.

"A living doll, from the Far East."

With that said, two great doors were suddenly swung open, and they revealed a silhouette of a girl. The guests gasped. All sights were now directed at her, and more excited murmurings could be heard. Even Eriol felt himself unable to take off his eyes from the figure.

The doll, her head slightly bowed, took a step forward, and the crowd held their breaths. She took another step, and another, while people in the room eyed her with great curiosity. They followed her every movement, mesmerized. The crowd had now parted to give her a way, and she was walking towards the center of the ballroom. To where the Duke was.

To where Eriol was standing.

He couldn't see her face clearly, but when she was moving closer he noticed that she was not wearing the usual evening gown. He paled. This girl was wearing a costume he never thought he would see again.

A kimono.

Then she took more steps, closing the distance between them, and her long sleeves, tucked neatly behind her arms, flapped softly as she moved. Eriol Hiiragizawa had never been so transfixed in his whole life, his eyes could not leave the small figure walking towards him. Her long, black hair flowed with her, framing a face with the most delicate complexion. The bright red paint on her lips seemed to be out of place, but it did not matter. The girl had his undivided attention.

Suddenly she looked up, and Eriol found himself staring at a pair of huge amethyst orbs. He couldn't help but think that they were the prettiest shade he had ever seen. The girl scanned the faces in front of her, and when she found him, she held his gaze. He felt air leaving his lungs and his face warming, but he didn't turn away. He could not.

The excited whispers around him, the blatant admiration, and the murmured curiosity intensified, but they might as well be silent because at that moment his mind only registered the beautiful apparition in front of him. Nothing else.

The Duke's booming voice snapped him from the enchantment, "Isn't she beautiful? A true woman of the East. Look at her!"

The girl's face turned stoic, she held her head up high, as if challenging the whole ballroom to do their best. She has pride, Eriol thought. Underneath her sleeves, unbeknownst to anybody, the girl clenched her fists so hard to control her fear. She would not let these foreigners see her cowering like a mouse, no matter how their scrutinies made her feel like she was naked. They didn't see her as a human, but a mere object to ogle and watch. And how they were amused!

"Now, for the last part of the surprise," the Duke said, smiling beneath his bushy beard, "We will have an auction for the girl!"