Chapter 8

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"Stupid, bird brained, sap skulled, foolish..." Damian muttered as he ripped petals off from the sad, wilted, cyan rose.

"You don't have much appreciation for beauty, do you?" A melodic voice interrupted his carnage.

"Now is not the time, Bea," He snarled at Lady Beatrix who ignored the warning and promptly sat down next to him on the marble bench. Her face glittered like a thousand suns in the moonlight and even in his anger Damian could not help but appreciate the view.

"Why are you sulking in the corner like a wounded tiger, again," Beatrix eyed him with disdain. She gently pulled the rose away from his tight grip.

"Have I ever done anything, anything to ever frighten you?" Damian asked with his voice pitched in a smooth growl. His fingers pressed into his palms leaving painful crescents on them.

Lady Beatrix sneered at his audacity to ask such a question, "No, you're too dim and I know you too well. You're the lightening that never strikes. Besides it's my temper you should fear not the other way around."

"Fine, fine," Damian hissed, "but what about all the other girls. Have they ever given you any indication that they find me beastly?"

"Love, they're petrified of you but you smile so convincingly that they dream themselves capable of taming the wild beast inside of you. They should know better," Beatrix laughed hollowly catching Damian off guard but he shook his head trying to focus on his current worry.

"So, it's possible I might have wronged someone enough to have them bear a grudge against me," Damian slouched.

Beatrix sighed, "Damian, you offend people on a daily basis. It would take me hours nay days to recount everyone whom you've somehow offended in some way or the other. Take that girl you insulted that night-"

"Has every busybody from the east to the west heard about the incident I only vaguely remember? It's excruciatingly annoying," Damian cut her off.

Beatrix stoked her silken hair unconsciously, "You couldn't have chosen a more public venue to get foxed; seriously I thought you could hold your liquor better. At least you didn't make a scene in the middle of the dance floor."

Damian cringed as he remembered from his blinkered vision how he wanted to pull the girl up to the dance floor. He was glad the girl had the strength in her to stop him in his tracks. Damian sighed and decided to change the train of conversation.

"Where were you today? Why is everyone so determined that all my efforts at hosting these events go to naught," Damian ranted. The last remaining guests were mingling amongst each other, enjoying the light breeze. Drunken laughs could be heard combined with the tinkering of glass from time to time.

"I was busy, you self centered pigeon. Your ego is such a deranged daemon. I am glad I can never be your wife for I would have to spend most of my married life trying to appease that infernal monster inside you," Beatrix sneered almost viciously.

"So, that answers it, doesn't it? You would never have married me even if I had offered for you," Damian's lip curled as his ego was bruised even further.

"Yes, that answers your question. There can only be one sword in a scabbard," Beatrix crossed her arms and looked away. Damian wanted to follow her example but felt himself too weary to be petty. He felt too upset that all his planning had gone to waste. He had meticulously combed the castle and the gardens for signs of the girl without success so he had spontaneously decided to hold an event that the girl could not refuse to attend. Of course Damian managed to bungle that as well.

"My mother in Law keeps looking in our direction with such a horrified expression. She seems to think everything I do is some great affront to all of propriety and heavens above. It is decidedly not my fault her son decided he was wooed by my beauty and charm. I need to pacify her so excuse me for walking off from our charming discussion," Beatrix announced sourly.

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