It wasn't that Lady Roxanne wasn't attractive. Her expressive dark eyes and quick smile would have been enough to have her labelled as a court beauty, had her tongue not been swifter and more expressive. Gary had seen her reduce two admirers to tears because they dared to presume she wished to dance with them. He didn't want to think what response his kissing her – in public, no less – would elicit. Perhaps his father would act more kindly if he heard Roxanne's cutting comments. Most likely not, though.

Gary sighed and tugged his collar straight. He would have to be as flattering as possible and not rise to the bait she laid out. It shouldn't be too hard; she was female, after all. And human, or so he hoped.

He flashed a confident smile at his reflection. "Good evening, dear lady. May I just say that you look stunning tonight? No, really! You're taking my breath right away."

"Oh, it must be my perfume," somebody replied in a high falsetto. "Odour-de-skunk."

Gary turned around to find Jon, grinning wickedly. "I think you'll find the skunk stench is your fault. Have you been rolling around with the servants again?"

Jonathan shrugged off his comment, smirking. "Saying your last words?" he asked cheerfully, shutting the door. "I've been sent to make sure you come. And don't worry, I'll only use force as a last resort."

Gary scoffed at that and returned to the mirror, carefully flattening his hair. "Of course I'm coming. It's going to be easy."

"Are you going to do it?" Jonathan wanted to know, moving back to sit on the bed. Gary met his cousin's eyes in the mirror and nodded. "Good luck. I don't know if I'd go through with it, ten nobles or no."

Gary turned around, unable to hide his shock. Although he was a year younger, the Prince had the most admirers out of all of them – and Gary suspected that this would still be true even if Jon had had no royal blood whatsoever. A smile from his younger cousin would fluster girls in such a way that the other young hopefuls could only attempt to equal by appearing naked. "What in the name of Mithros are you talking about? She'd fall straight into your arms."

"Only if I drugged her. Our Lady Roxanne isn't one to sheath her tongue for the sake of staying in favour with royalty, mores the pity. She tells me I'm too arrogant, I step too heavily when I'm dancing and I'd do well to practice the art of conversation rather than relying on my ancestry to form people's impressions for me."

Gary rubbed his eyes. "Goddess. She's going to slaughter me. Father'll be lucky if he gets near me before the massacre starts."

"Don't worry. I'll be sure to bury those precious nobles from Alex with you."

"That's not comforting," Gary growled. He checked his reflection in the mirror one last time – not for vanity purposes, you understand, for protection. He didn't want so much as a hair out of place. There was no point in giving her ammunition. "Fine. I'm ready."

--

"Squire Gareth, as I have already informed you, I am not in the mood for your petty minded jests. I would be very much obliged if you would find somebody else's mind to dull with your trivial taunts."

Well.

Gary spread his hands, the picture of good-will. "My lady, you can hardly doubt that we have evidently gotten off on the wrong foot, with this conversation as well as all others. Will you blame me for attempting to rectify my erroneous behaviour?"

The look in her eyes told him she would. She drew herself up, although this made very little difference; he was still at least half a foot taller than she. "I would not blame you, Squire Gareth, but I would have been more accepting of an apology than a sharing of your guilt and a promise to start afresh. Will you blame me for having a long memory?"

He itched to reply yes, yes, he would blame her; he would love to blame her for everything, from Carthaki droughts to Scanran accents. But there was the bet to think of. He couldn't stand to lose a bet, and have Alex win in the process. "I could never hold such a lady as yourself to account for anything of the sort. Your memory is an asset to you, and truly one that makes you so unforgettable to others," Gary answered smoothly, mentally praising his father for teaching him diplomacy.

Her mouth twitched slightly. "You have a clever manner of speaking, Squire, I'll give you that. Perhaps another time, you might do a better job of flattering me and showering me with compliments than that slickly concealed gibe." Roxanne moved a hand up to brush away curls which had fallen in front of her face, a moment before he thought he could instruct his hand to do the same without shuddering. "I tire of this, I would say it was a pleasure talking to you, Squire Gareth, but then, it never is. Good evening to you." She dropped him a curtsy, and waited for him to bow in return.

Gary had to force himself to remain upright. He felt incredibly tempted to bow and be done with the conversation, when he met Alex's eyes across the room. No. No giving in, he would do this. He would do this to wipe the smirk off Tirragen's face. "My lady-" He stopped, wondering what he could say that would persuade her to stay by his side. First, he had to forcibly unclench his fists, which had balled as soon as the suggestion had come into his mind. "Please could you – ah, that is, would you do me the extreme pleasure of favouring me with a dance?"