Oz frowned faintly. He was unsure how to take these statements, or their tone. Had she determined to take Thomasina's side in their argument, for whatever reason? If that was the case it might be difficult to reconcile; he wasn't going to do anything silly, like apologize to Sina for berating her in public, but it probably wouldn't help his case with Sophia to explain that this happened all the time. But perhaps he'd misread her and she was only irritated that he'd asked her to dance publicly, putting their interactions closer to the spotlight than they ought to have been. This was entirely possible; they'd never discussed any ground rules for how to comport themselves in situations like this. (They had not discussed it because Oz had not anticipated it; she wasn't supposed to be here).

"I could hardly have asked her to dance," he joked humorlessly. He was under no illusion that she would accept this as a response, whatever she said about having already formed her own opinions, but it did buy him a moment to compose his next words.

"You credit my actions tonight with more cunning than they merit," he said. This was not the first time she had cast him in the role of the spider, sitting amidst a carefully constructed web waiting for unsuspecting flies to fall into place. She'd thought the cologne was intentional, too. He supposed it was flattering in the abstract, though it did create odd predicaments like this one where he was asked to explain himself when there wasn't any satisfactory explanation at all. "I was surprised to see you here." He'd said as much already, but he hoped repeating it served to drive a point home: he had not intentionally juxtaposed the argument with his wife against this dance. That was mere misadventure, but he didn't know what else he could have done. Would she have been happier with him if he had breezed right past her, pretending not to know or recognize her? He very much doubted it.

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MJ is the light of my life <3

As what she said worked its way into his brain, Sophia deliberated the response that she expected – and the one she wanted. Of course they couldn’t get into any of their business here. But this encounter threw into sharp relief how little they knew of each other, and how little they’ve discussed (it changes things, doesn’t it? When one’s affair spills outside the privacy of four walls). Sophia hoped he might be at least somewhat honest with her, skilled social orator that he was, but wasn’t about to hold her breath for it.

Sophia returned a humorless smile to his joke, the first clear indication that he’ll have to do better than that. Though even once his so-called explanation arrived, Soph could not say she was terribly impressed. “Did it occur to you to simply leave the way you were headed?” she pointed out. Perhaps then, she may have found a way to follow. “I was surprised as well. And your grand gesture certainly did me no favors,” the last she uttered under her breath, like an afterthought. It did not occur to her that this might be the first indication to Oz that she may feel consequences from this as well.

Though Soph finally lost sight of her sister, the guilt already took seed and grew. It was highly unusual for her to feel remorse over decisions of the heart, but this business about keeping appearances for the ton was far more complicated. It left Sophia frustrated and tense, feelings she didn’t know what to do with in this context, ill-equipped as she was to be in a situation where she could not simply act on her impulse. Suffocating. That’s what society feels like.

“I abhor feeling used,” she finally admitted, a graceful smile gone and now replaced with a polite, impassive veneer. It was hard for Sophia to decide if she felt hurt or not, though she knew she didn’t like this at all. “Like a prop, to be wielded for ad lib stunts.”

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thank you gin for the set<3

Of course it had occurred to him to leave, but in the heat of the moment he'd thought she would take it poorly if he didn't acknowledge her at all. And mightn't that have been suspicious in and of itself? Obviously the extent of their interactions weren't common knowledge, but Oz had made no secret about his patronship of the ballet, so anyone could have assumed they had at least been introduced. An intentional snub, if that was what breezing past her had read as, would have been just as attention-drawing as asking her to dance. It wasn't news to him that this was a bit more conspicuous than they might have liked, but it had seemed the lesser of two evils. Perhaps he'd misjudged. He could sympathize with her about the distaste for being treated as a prop, but he would argue he hadn't taken so much of her agency away. She could have refused him the dance; she could have told any number of stories through how she chose to comport herself and the expressions she chose to use as they moved across the floor.

"Everyone in this room is either an actor or a prop," he pointed out. "That's the way of these events. Staying by your sister's side all evening wouldn't have prevented that. You'd merely be playing her supporting actress instead of mine." Perhaps this was uncharitable given that he had literally never met the sister in question (at least, that he knew of — ach, how he hated not knowing the simplest things about her) but Ozymandias had been in society long enough that he felt well qualified to make sweeping generalizations about the majority of them. "And since that's the case, we might as well choose an interesting plotline."

He was perhaps being too glib about this, given the danger she had pointed out to her (likely fragile) position in society were rumors to start, but she was already annoyed with him. If he was already planning his eventual apology, there wasn't much reason to play coy now; he'd send her a bigger bouquet of flowers later to make up for it.

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MJ is the light of my life <3

It was less the crowd that felt claustrophobic, but the suffocation of expectation and intention. The fifty different things their dance meant to different people, the waves of inevitable judgment. Maybe Ozymandias thought he made the gallant decision; his dismissiveness of her suggestion surely indicated as much. This was more his realm of expertise than hers, perhaps the subconscious reason for why she decided to follow his lead in the first place. But now the woman let out a disapproving tut, not entirely bought into her role as supporting actress.

“And do you know the difference between an actress and a prop?” she asked. “An actress knows precisely why she’s here and where the story ends. A prop is left in a dark closet until it is to be used. I confess that while the plotline is intriguing, I am wholly unaware of your vision for where this story ends.”

There was much more to say, indeed Sophia found herself biting back the words on the tip of her tongue to add more. The thought that she was used as a prop to make his wife jealous did not suit her at all, and she much preferred it when their reasons to engage had a mutual benefit. The thought finally hit enough of a nerve that it drew her lips into a faint frown. But they’ve run out of time to confront it now. It simply wouldn’t do for her to entertain another dance with him, either.

Sophia’s hands slipped from his as soon as the song ended, a swifter-than-necessary dispatch. She curtsied to him, quite keen to avoid his eye contact now that she worked herself up to feel furious. “Good evening, Mister Dempsey.” She could not bring herself to thank him for the dance, enlightening as it was.

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thank you gin for the set<3