Abigail
I waited for Conrad to protest, like he always seemed to do when it came to Susanna, but to my surprise he said nothing. Then again, there was no mistaking the weight of Alexander’s words, or the look in his eyes—he wasn’t asking for permission, not that anyone in this family ever truly did.
Alexander turned to me, his expression contemplative. “Abigail,” he said, his voice low. “Thank you. I’ve heard from everyone how helpful you’ve been, looking after Susanna during… everything.” He hesitated briefly, his tone softening. “I owe you a great debt.”
I barely had time to respond before the door to the master bedroom swung open, and out stepped Susanna. Her face was a mess of tears, her voice cracki
Conrad My feet carried me with heavy, erratic strides, my hand bleeding into my palm, my fingers sticky with gin and blood. A waiter nearly ran into me, wide-eyed and young. I snapped at him before he could scurry away. “You there! I need medical attention, now.” The kid flinched like I had hit him, straightened his tie with trembling fingers, and gave a hasty nod. “Y-Yes, sir. There’s… there’s first aid in the west lounge. Please follow me.” I did, not because I particularly cared about the cut, but because I couldn’t stand another second in that room. I couldn’t look at her. I couldn’t see them. I would have immediately but leaving such a high profile event so early would set off wagging tongues, and I couldn’t afford that kind of spotlight on me right now. The lounge was empty, silent but for the muffled music drifting in from the ballroom. The waiter asked me to wait, saying he would soon be back with the first aid kit. I didn’t respond as I waved him off and sat down, clut
Conrad I couldn’t stop watching them. No matter how many times I blinked or turned away or forced myself to stare into the empty stem of my champagne glass, my gaze always returned to the dance floor, to Abigail, in Alexander's arms, her eyes glowing, her body moving in time with his. It gutted me. The contrast between now and just a few minutes ago was undeniable. When she danced with me earlier, she had moved like she was tolerating it. Her body had been stiff, and her hand on my shoulder was rigid and cold. I had to pretend not to feel how she leaned away from me with every sway, how she resisted the affection I tried so desperately to offer. That icy distance between us wasn’t physical. It was worse. It was in her eyes, in the tightness of her jaw, in the way she refused to look at me unless I spoke first. I had hoped...I don’t know what I had hoped. Maybe that the dance would stir something in her, that she would soften. That she would remember, even for a second, how i
AlexanderI didn’t quite know what to call the feeling twisting itself into knots inside my chest. It wasn’t anger, at least not the kind I was familiar with. Anger was clean and swift. Anger was easy to recognize, easier to squash. This… this was murkier and slow burning. It was, to be frank, ugly. My shirt collar suddenly felt too tight, the fabric stiff like rope as I tried to ignore the way Conrad held Abigail.He was too close to her. Far too close.I sipped from my champagne glass, the chill of the drink doing nothing to cool me down. My other hand curled in my pocket, my nails biting into my palm. It was ridiculous. I was standing here, in full view of the entire room, while Conrad, of all people, was on the dance floor with her. His expression was painfully easy to read, even from a distance, full of longing and desperation. There was regret in the lines of his face, easy to recognise as I had seen that look before. But what could he possibly be saying to her now? Whatever i
Abigail“Impressive,” Conrad murmured, his hand settling at the small of my back. “You almost had me fooled. Green suits you very well.”“You’re wasting your breath,” I said under my smile, my voice low. “Just say what you want to say.”He twirled me lightly, leaning in as I turned. The music swelled into a gentle high, lilting with a teasing energy that was at odds with the tension between us. I let Conrad lead only because it would’ve looked strange if I didn’t, but my body refused to soften in his arms. I moved as required, my steps light and graceful but mechanical. I kept a neutral smile on my face, just wide enough for onlookers to believe I was enjoying the moment, though every inch of me screamed to step away. He, on the other hand, looked almost at ease, a faint grin playing at his lips.He leaned in as we turned with the rhythm of the song, and his voice dropped low. “You need to stop this,” he said, his hand firm at my waist, pulling me slightly closer than I liked.I raise
AbigailThe moment Alexander stepped down from the stage and rejoined me, I felt the tension in the room shift. All eyes followed him, then flicked to me, as if trying to decide whose words held more power between Marceline’s and Alexander’s. And now that we were together, standing side by side again in the flesh, the fascination in the crowd thickened. It clung to my skin like static.The staff began to guide everyone toward the banquet hall, the gold-trimmed doors swinging open to reveal tables dressed in crystal and candlelight. We moved with the flow, shoulder to shoulder with some of the most powerful names in the city, and I could feel every glance like a pinprick along my spine. It was dizzying; the heat, the perfume, the murmur of voices. Everyone seemed to be watching me, measuring me.As we entered, Alexander leaned in just slightly, his lips brushing close to my ear. “Relax,” he murmured so low only I could hear. “You’re doing great.”I let out a breath that sounded more li
Abigail Alexander gave the man in the navy suit a brief nod before turning to me. “I’ll be back shortly.” He moved to leave, but I slipped my arm through his, stopping him mid step. He turned back, brows slightly raised in quiet inquiry. I met his gaze, then reached up, my fingers brushing the fine lapel of his suit. “Your collar,” I murmured, smoothing it out carefully. It hadn’t needed fixing, not really. But I wanted a reason to touch him, to steady him in the moments before he walked into the spotlight. I let my fingertips linger for a second longer than necessary before meeting his eyes again. “Now you can go.” A small, private smile curved my lips, and something flickered in his expression, and then it was gone too quickly to pin down. His lips curved at the edges, not quite a full smile, and with a faint incline of his head, he slipped out of my grasp and walked away, the man in the suit leading him through the crowd. The moment he was gone, I was left with Abel Rudd. “G