Cassian could sense her tension as they moved through the steps of the dance, which spoke volumes without even taking into account her sour expression. She despised him, didn’t she? It made him wonder, for the first time, how much he hurt her feelings. He might have felt a pang of guilt then, though as soon as it occurred to him he pushed the thought aside. After being so evasive with her identity, and not exactly making it easy to determine how he might follow up with her, what did she expect? And what did she think would happen by giving herself up so enthusiastically anyway? Cass simply assumed she wanted it to be a one-time kind of agreement.
The thought that it might have meant something else to her didn’t occur to Cass until this very moment, forced to engage for several minutes with looking at her bright green eyes straight-on. None of her ire ebbed away despite his most amenable efforts. So he kept his expression impassive as she seemed to work through some type of inner battle over what to tell him.
Turns out that his inkling was right; giving her a more productive topic to sink her teeth into did little to settle her intense glower, but at least she frowned a little less when she spoke. And what she said was genuinely interesting - and such a far stretch from the topic of discussions he had with her twin, it felt surreal to think two entirely different types of souls could share the same face.
“Hm, like medieval curses,” he volunteered aptly. Though no ancient spells expert himself, his line of work exposed him to a range of unorthodox ways wizards found to maim and murder. How intriguing for a young lady to be interested in such morbid work. “They had much more appreciation for torture than we do nowadays. Cruel as they are inventive. This seems to be a recurring theme with you,” he added teasingly, which was as close as he would get to flirting or commending her interests.
It would seem that even just volunteering this much seemed to embarrass her, however, and so he didn’t pry further. They swirled in their waltz instead, Cassian deciding to offer her a bit of respite by glancing off interestedly into the crowd. He still hadn’t seen Miss Dashwood, and wondered if she was here at all. And if she was, would it be better or worse for him to be seen dancing with Miss Edevane?
Blue eyes dropped back to the young lady with her question, and his lip curled to a rueful smile. So she had an ear for detail as well; good to know.
“Mm. Chief Hit Wizard,” he supplied. Succinct, because the title seemed to speak for itself in most situations. He also guessed she had the resource to find out anyway; no use in trying to be evasive. “I suppose you could say it’s my dream career in the sense that I never planned to do anything different. I set my sights on it early.” As soon as his father died on duty when he was a teen, not that it was relevant to the Miss. Instead he leveled her an amused look, and resisted the temptation to suggest that he wouldn’t go easy on her if one of her curses led to an untimely arrest. Ah – no, at that point he’d just be asking her to curse him.
The thought that it might have meant something else to her didn’t occur to Cass until this very moment, forced to engage for several minutes with looking at her bright green eyes straight-on. None of her ire ebbed away despite his most amenable efforts. So he kept his expression impassive as she seemed to work through some type of inner battle over what to tell him.
Turns out that his inkling was right; giving her a more productive topic to sink her teeth into did little to settle her intense glower, but at least she frowned a little less when she spoke. And what she said was genuinely interesting - and such a far stretch from the topic of discussions he had with her twin, it felt surreal to think two entirely different types of souls could share the same face.
“Hm, like medieval curses,” he volunteered aptly. Though no ancient spells expert himself, his line of work exposed him to a range of unorthodox ways wizards found to maim and murder. How intriguing for a young lady to be interested in such morbid work. “They had much more appreciation for torture than we do nowadays. Cruel as they are inventive. This seems to be a recurring theme with you,” he added teasingly, which was as close as he would get to flirting or commending her interests.
It would seem that even just volunteering this much seemed to embarrass her, however, and so he didn’t pry further. They swirled in their waltz instead, Cassian deciding to offer her a bit of respite by glancing off interestedly into the crowd. He still hadn’t seen Miss Dashwood, and wondered if she was here at all. And if she was, would it be better or worse for him to be seen dancing with Miss Edevane?
Blue eyes dropped back to the young lady with her question, and his lip curled to a rueful smile. So she had an ear for detail as well; good to know.
“Mm. Chief Hit Wizard,” he supplied. Succinct, because the title seemed to speak for itself in most situations. He also guessed she had the resource to find out anyway; no use in trying to be evasive. “I suppose you could say it’s my dream career in the sense that I never planned to do anything different. I set my sights on it early.” As soon as his father died on duty when he was a teen, not that it was relevant to the Miss. Instead he leveled her an amused look, and resisted the temptation to suggest that he wouldn’t go easy on her if one of her curses led to an untimely arrest. Ah – no, at that point he’d just be asking her to curse him.
![[Image: BC4TW0z.jpeg]](https://i.imgur.com/BC4TW0z.jpeg)
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