The entire room was shocked, but not nearly as shocked as Anna Marie. She glanced at Justine, who looked shocked and hurt by this development. She turned back to Pietro and whispered to him.
"I don't think so, thank you. But I'm sure Justine would be delighted…"
"I dare say…" Pietro whispered back as he held out his hand. "...that I have asked you."

She hesitated for a moment. A long moment. But finally, she rested her hand in his, which just made the murmuring around them increase as he led her to the center of the dance floor.
Pietro looked towards the piano, where Wanda sat, observing her brother and his choice of dance partner, an unspoken conversation between brother and sister before she turned and began playing a piece at the piano for them to dance to.
As she began playing, Pietro moved the candle stick to his left hand, holding the candle and her right hand at the same time. His right hand was placed on the middle of her back, and her left hand was at his shoulder.
Anna Marie could feel the eyes on them, and her heart beat a little faster.
"Why are we doing this?" She whispered to him.
"I've always closed my eyes to things that make me uncomfortable. It makes them a little easier." He whispered back, clearly trying to reassure her.
She looked up into his blue eyes, eyes that seemed to only focus on her entirely.
"I don't want to close my eyes. I want to keep them open."
With her whispered words, there was the smallest smile from him, the expression on his face seemed to be in awe of her.
He led her into the waltz, and they seemed to glide around the room, the candlestick held firmly in his hand, and his gaze locked on hers, as if she was the only person in the room.
But one look around the room, one could see everyone watching them. Her father looked concerned. Kurt looked a bit tense, and Justine and Mrs Wagner were not happy.
The dance was fluid, perfect, like they were floating or flying. He was an excellent dancer, and skilled at leading her through a perfect dance.
Finally, they broke away at the last note, the candle held between their still joined hands, and the flame was still brightly lit.
The crowd gasped in delight and there was applause, Anna Marie had a pleased smile on her face, and she looked over at Pietro, and he had a similar smile, one that she thought made him appear youthful.
Wanda slipped away from the ballroom, just as Pietro and Anna Marie turned to face each other, the moment unspoken, but a clear admiration in his eyes for her, for her skill and grace, and in that moment, he found himself thinking she looked absolutely beautiful when she smiled.
Her smile was for him, and she gently blew out the candle as everyone continued to clap.
James Darkholme, however, wore a look of a man whose gears were turning, and he had suspicion on his face for the man who had somehow wooed his only daughter.
The next morning, James called upon an old acquaintance, one he knew would be discreet but thorough.
He sat in his office, papers stacked neatly on his desk, writing out something when he heard a knock.
"Come in."
The door opened, and a young woman with black hair and pale skin came into his view, a woman he knew well.
"Neena. I apologize for the short notice, my dear."
"You need not apologize. The letter that came to my door this morning sounded urgent." She closed the office door. "Nathan was already gone for the day, so I wasted no time in making my way here."
She approached his desk as he spoke. "I need a favor, Neena."
"Don't you always?" She teased lightly. "Whatever is it that has you so troubled, old friend?"
"You've heard of the Eisenhardts?"
"Heard of them? I was there last night, James. I saw how Pietro swept Anna Marie quite literally off her feet."
"There's something not right about them, Neena. I need to know what, before things get out of hand."
"You're worried about her."
"Of course I am. She's my daughter."
She held out her hand, and he slipped a piece of paper to her, the names "Pietro Eisenhardt" and "Wanda Eisenhardt" written on it.
"I will report back as soon as I can."
"Thank you Neena. Be discreet."
"Always."
As the days passed, Anna Marie found herself spending more and more of her time with the Eisenhardts. She found Pietro's insight on her writing to be helpful, his views similar to hers on the plot and contents of her story. On one particular afternoon, a very cloudy one, they were strolling through the park, and Pietro was reading the newest draft of her story.
His soft laugh reached her ears. "No, really Anna Marie, I do really think it gets better and better every time I read it…..and I really don't mind the love story at all."
She smiled almost shyly. "It's just a chapter or two…"
"Well, I like it." He seemed to be taking in every word, immersed in the pages. "In fact, I'm going to finish reading it so I can tell you, with utmost certainty, that I like it."
She chuckled at that, watching him walk to a nearby bench and sit to read it, before turning her attention to Wanda, who was inspecting a cocoon in a tree.
She was cutting the cocoon away from the tree, studying it.
"Is it a butterfly yet?" Anna Marie asked.
"No, but it will be soon." Wanda replied.
Anna Marie took notice of a cluster of yellow and black butterflies on the ground, laying very still, all of them.
"What on earth….?" She murmured.
"They're dying. They take their heat from the sun, and when it deserts them, they die." Wanda remarks thoughtfully.
Anna Marie inspects one of the butterflies in her hand. "That's sad."
"No, it's not sad, Anna Marie. It's nature." She held a butterfly between her fingers, watching as it slowly flapped its wings. "It's a savage world, all things dying….or eating each other beneath our feet."

"Surely there's more to it than that." Anna Marie remarked thoughtfully.

Wanda gently brought the butterfly up to Anna Marie's face, the wings gentle and delicate against her skin. "Beautiful things are fragile, Anna Marie. Back home, we only have black moths. Formidable creatures, to be sure, but they lack beauty. They thrive off the dark and the cold."

"What do they feed on?" Anna Marie asked.

"Butterflies."

—-

"I am never one to question your choices, Pietro, but I must-"

"Do you trust me, dear sister?"

"Yes, I trust you. Are you sure she is the right choice? She is young, Pietro-"

"Leave it to me. Trust me, Wanda. Do you have the ring?"

"The ring is mine, Pietro. I earned it." She protested, even as she removed an ornate ruby ring from her finger and handed it to him.

"Worry not, dear sister. You will get it back, I promise."