Chapter 157 - A Dance With Amelia

Chapter 157: 157 - A Dance With Amelia

Adrien looked at the hand Amelia held out to him, then at her face. She had caught him off guard often enough over the last month that he should probably have stopped being surprised by it.

"My pride is taking some damage here. At least give me the chance to ask properly."

Amelia left her hand exactly where it was, though her expression eased. Adrien stood, straightened the front of his coat and took her hand properly.

"Lady Amelia, may I have this dance?"

"You may. I was beginning to wonder whether I would have to ask for you."

They joined the couples already moving onto the open floor. Adrien had danced often enough in the memories left by the old Adrien that his body knew the work before he gave it thought. One hand found Amelia’s waist, the other closed around hers, and after the first few steps the music no longer demanded much of his attention.

Amelia noticed quickly. "You weren’t exaggerating when you said you knew how to dance."

"I told you I did. I just haven’t had much reason to prove it since we met."

"You looked at the floor for long enough that I wasn’t completely convinced."

Adrien guided her through the next turn, letting the comment pass with a short breath of amusement. Out in the middle of the floor the conversations blurred into a low murmur and the tables receded, leaving them alone enough despite the crowd.

For the next few minutes they let the music carry most of the moment. Amelia moved through it with an ease Adrien had only begun to appreciate over the last two days.

"You really did grow up around this."

"Partly. My mother made sure I learned enough not to embarrass her whenever she brought me to something formal."

"She did a good job. You look like you’ve done this a hundred times."

"Not that many, but enough that I don’t have to think about where my feet are anymore. Whoever taught you seems to have done the same."

Adrien almost answered before recalling that the person who had learned this had technically been somebody else. He let the thought go, since there was no useful way to explain it without souring the evening.

The music slowed, and Amelia’s gaze drifted past his shoulder toward one of the tables. Cordelia was there with Lucien and several members of House Aerwyn, and when Amelia looked back, something in her expression had altered.

"Cordelia asked me something yesterday, and I’ve been thinking about it since."

Adrien caught the change in her voice. "Should I be worried about what she asked, or about the fact that you’re bringing it up now?"

"Neither, probably. She asked me what you are to me."

Adrien did not answer at once. He had known this conversation would arrive eventually, and the two of them had simply grown very good at letting everything remain obvious without ever putting it into words.

"What did you tell her?"

"That I didn’t know what to call it." Amelia stayed quiet for a few steps before continuing. "That wasn’t completely true. I know what I feel, and I know what happened between us wasn’t something I treated casually afterward. I just realized I couldn’t explain what we were without guessing what you thought."

Her hand remained steady in his, though her attention had stopped roaming the room. Adrien gave the answer the time it deserved before speaking.

"I’ve been wondering when one of us was going to bring that up. I didn’t want to decide what this was for both of us, so I kept waiting for the right moment."

"So did I. And apparently both of us waiting wasn’t going to solve much."

They turned with the rest of the floor before Amelia spoke again.

"What exactly are we doing, Adrien?"

No accusation weighted the question. She asked with the same calm directness she brought to anything that was genuinely important to her, and Adrien respected her far too much to retreat behind something vague.

"I don’t know what name you want to put on it. But I know what happened between us wasn’t casual to me. It wasn’t something I did because we happened to be alone, and I didn’t expect to forget it by morning."

"It wasn’t casual to me either. I wouldn’t have let things go that far if that was all I wanted from you."

"I know. Or at least I hoped I knew." Adrien kept his attention on her. "And I don’t want it to be something that happened once and disappeared. We’ve already been acting like this is more than that for a while. I think the only thing we haven’t done is actually say it."

Amelia nodded slowly. "That’s what bothered me when Cordelia asked. I couldn’t give her a proper answer, but I also didn’t like saying there wasn’t one."

"There is an answer. We just haven’t said it out loud until now."

"I think that’s exactly what I needed to hear."

They moved through another turn while the orchestra carried the same unhurried piece across the hall.

"Then I think we already know what this is," Adrien said.

Amelia held his gaze. "I think we do. And I’m comfortable leaving it there without trying to make it sound more complicated than it is."

Nothing shifted dramatically after that, and Adrien was glad of it. Stopping in the middle of the floor or swelling the conversation into a declaration would have served nothing when they had already been living most of the answer for weeks.

His hand stayed at her waist, and Amelia remained close enough that neither of them had to lift their voice over the music. The quiet between them no longer carried that unfinished question.

"I’m glad we finally said it," Amelia said. "I didn’t realize how much it was bothering me until Cordelia asked."

"So am I. We were making the obvious unnecessarily difficult."

Amelia nodded. "At least we don’t have to keep doing that."

The music began to fade, and Adrien guided Amelia through the final steps. When the last notes thinned into silence, neither of them moved apart.

"Would you like to stay for another dance?"

"I would. We don’t need to go anywhere yet."

The musicians opened the next piece, and Adrien held his place with Amelia while the floor filled around them again. Whatever had changed between them had been there long before tonight; they had merely stopped leaving it unnamed.