Cassian’s unsolicited advice made her blood boil, although she couldn't help but briefly wonder if it was why Mr. Blackwood had been avoiding her. Surely he wanted a proper wife, but it wasn’t as if she wanted that role; she just wanted to be his friend. Juniper wasn’t ready – and wouldn’t ever be ready – to conform to the societal standards put in place. It was men like him who were always in the wrong, always expecting women to be put into a box where they could do nothing except smile and look pretty. It fit him though because his personality was akin to a wet sock and she’d rather live her days locked in a cupboard than on his arm.

She ignored the idea that he didn’t think she was dumb, but the toying portion was almost laughable; he had done nothing but that since the night she’d met him, and smiling at him was her single greatest regret in life. It always probably would be, even once she trapped him inside a jar to make him feel as belittled as she had. No, June wouldn’t regret that at all. Her eyes narrowed at him as her fingers tightened against his shoulder, fingernails digging into the fabric.

“Fuck your advice, Mr. Valenduris.” She snarled quietly before she was spun out; her eyes met those of her father and she knew then, just how much trouble she was in after the dance ended; well, she might as well go out with a bang if that was going to be the case. When she came back to him glared at him.“If I wanted some from a man who’s opinion actually mattered to me, it would be anyone else in this room except for you." She raised her eyes to glare him, and hoped that his blue ones would flicker with even the tiniest bit of hurt. "I save all my propriety for people who have at least a single shred of dignity and deserve it. So take your own advice because you sir, are one of the biggest assholes I have ever had the displeasure of meeting.” The last chords of the song ended and it was a breath of relief.

Finally she was allowed to step out of his arms. Juniper at least curtseyed at him as not to draw more attention to herself, although her lips curled with disgust; despite how light his touch had been she could still feel it against her waist and hands, and wanted nothing more than scrub her skin raw to get rid of it. “Go rot in hell.” She growled at him, just quiet enough that the woman next to her didn’t seem to notice the language.

Then she waltzed away from him toward the edge of the dance floor near the balcony, Alistair advancing on her like a predator on its prey. Her eyes darted around to ensure there would be no witnesses to make Mr. Valenduris realize just how angry she truly was at him – just how much his actions were inexcusable. The wood was smooth against her fingers as she pulled it free, and cast a spell to turn Cassian’s tailcoats into snakes, the black monsters dangling and nipping at the back of his legs. By that time her father had already draped his hand around his daughter’s waist to pull her onto the balcony.

He just might kill her yet.

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