Eternal Night

(II) Chapter 27: Heaven in Hiding

Vladislaus made his way down one of the dimly lit garden paths with purpose in his step, footfall virtually inaudible in spite of the gravel beneath his feet. His eyes scanned the darkness for any sign of his quarry, only becoming briefly distracted when he happened upon a small handful of guests that had also left the party to take refuge in the shadows of the night. He travelled deeper and deeper still until the foliage of his surroundings grew dense and the music from the ballroom more distant.

It took him several long minutes of searching, but at last he found her, situated in a more overgrown part of the gardens. Francesca had hidden herself away within the shadows of a little Grecian temple near a reflective pool, her back to the path, appearing to be enjoying the view of the rolling hills and mountain vistas just beyond. He had almost missed her entirely as her motionless person was presently shrouded in darkness, but it was the glistening of her diamond-studded earrings that caught his attention, the flawlessly cut accessories reflecting the light of the moon.

Leaving the marked path, he stepped into this more concealed part of the garden, his spine tingling with anticipation as he was swallowed up in the darkness, his approach careful and silent. The open temple in which Frankie resided had been overrun with ivy and climbing roses, their fragrant perfume filling the air. The water of the pool was still, allowing the stars to cast a perfect reflection, like that of a mirror.

Frankie looked like something out of a painting – veiled in darkness with streams of moonlight dancing across her face as it passed through the canopy above, the greenery softly swaying in the breeze as she looked out at the landscape beyond, leaning idly against the granite pillar at her side.

She must have sensed his presence, for she spoke suddenly, never once turning to look back at him.

"Is everything all right, Mr. Leinhart?"

Despite his expression, his voice proved deceptively mild.

"I was about to ask you the same question," he called out, hands casually behind his back as he joined her in the shadows.

"I just needed a moment's reprieve, that's all," she explained in even tones, quietly admiring the view. "Grand parties haven't really been my scene in years. I feel like the older I get, the more I find myself craving solitude or the company of only a small group of close friends, rather than these larger gatherings."

"Something I can certainly empathize with," he admitted with sincerity. "Still, I must confess myself rather disappointed that you took your escape the second you were able to leave your post."

"Were you? Why?" she asked innocently, finally turning to look at him.

"I had hoped to dance with you at least once."

He said the words with no degree of ceremony, stating them merely as fact as his attention remained fixed straight ahead, but he could feel the weight of her gaze, the sweetening of that tension between them. The corner of his mouth twitched a little.

Frankie chuckled softly.

"I assure you, you're not missing much," she explained. "I'm not nearly as good a dancer as Alayna."

Vlad finally turned to look at her and he held out his hand in invitation.

"Why don't you let me be the judge of that?"

She looked at his hand with a carefully guarded expression, but he could sense the anticipation in her, try as she might to conceal it.

"Besides," he added, voice lowering an octave, "Your cousin is not the one I've been looking forward to dancing with. If she was, I wouldn't be here now, risking your refusal." She glanced up at him that time, noting the earnestness in his expression. Something about the way he looked at her made her feel warm suddenly, in spite of the cool mountain breeze that gently blew through the structure. "Come. Dance with me, Francesca."