She saw it in his eyes when it happened and felt the shift in his reaction. It looked like horror mixed with triumph (though that could just be her misreading his expression behind the mask). Recognition hit him, slow at first and then definitive. In a way she was almost grateful, for not having to carry on this ruse any longer, seeing as she didn’t think she was very good at it. It was a pity, because Irene genuinely loved to waltz and this dance had made a lasting impression on her, but not for the reasons she had hoped. When the evening had begun, Irene had started to feel as close to her normal self as she had been in a long time. But with this encounter, she felt herself shrinking back once more.
She might have retreated even further had it not been for the infuriating Lord and his nagging persistence. Irene had never thought herself an easily angered person - she wanted to be able to find joy where she could - but Bash Talbot had a way about him where he could dig under the surface and poke her exactly where she didn’t want to be poked.
So now that she was almost sure that she’d been found out, Irene wanted to leave. She wanted to find her cousin and leave. But of course it wasn’t so simple. They stopped dancing, and she tried to step backwards to tug out of his grasp. Instead he held fast, only dropping his hand around her waist and never releasing her hand. Because of course he wasn’t done.
For one absolutely insane moment, Irene thought his hand in her peripheral vision would come up to cup her cheek, and she flinched; the last person to touch her like that had been Elias. So the fact that instead of touching her, he tore her mask off her, she was surprisingly relieved again. She should have been infuriated. And perhaps for a second, she was; her eyes had grown hot and her vision had gone blurry. But at the core of it, she was tired. She wanted peace, and thus far, her life had thrown her everything but that and she wanted it to stop.
Stray strands of hair fluttered against her cheekbones as she stared at Sebastian Talbot, feeling ridiculous at being caught playing dress up in front of him. He’d known the background she grew up with. He would probably start laughing any second.
Wordlessly, she curtseyed to him (either it was quite a wobbly curtsy or the room was spinning) and turned on her heel. Somewhere she could hear a clock chime the top of the hour. And though it wasn’t anywhere near midnight… knowing the fairy tale it brought to mind; the sheer ridiculousness of it; all of it, saw something between a laugh and sob tear from her throat as she hurried out into the foyer and through the double doors out front.
She might have retreated even further had it not been for the infuriating Lord and his nagging persistence. Irene had never thought herself an easily angered person - she wanted to be able to find joy where she could - but Bash Talbot had a way about him where he could dig under the surface and poke her exactly where she didn’t want to be poked.
So now that she was almost sure that she’d been found out, Irene wanted to leave. She wanted to find her cousin and leave. But of course it wasn’t so simple. They stopped dancing, and she tried to step backwards to tug out of his grasp. Instead he held fast, only dropping his hand around her waist and never releasing her hand. Because of course he wasn’t done.
For one absolutely insane moment, Irene thought his hand in her peripheral vision would come up to cup her cheek, and she flinched; the last person to touch her like that had been Elias. So the fact that instead of touching her, he tore her mask off her, she was surprisingly relieved again. She should have been infuriated. And perhaps for a second, she was; her eyes had grown hot and her vision had gone blurry. But at the core of it, she was tired. She wanted peace, and thus far, her life had thrown her everything but that and she wanted it to stop.
Stray strands of hair fluttered against her cheekbones as she stared at Sebastian Talbot, feeling ridiculous at being caught playing dress up in front of him. He’d known the background she grew up with. He would probably start laughing any second.
Wordlessly, she curtseyed to him (either it was quite a wobbly curtsy or the room was spinning) and turned on her heel. Somewhere she could hear a clock chime the top of the hour. And though it wasn’t anywhere near midnight… knowing the fairy tale it brought to mind; the sheer ridiculousness of it; all of it, saw something between a laugh and sob tear from her throat as she hurried out into the foyer and through the double doors out front.
![[Image: 9EDhNw4.png]](https://i.imgur.com/9EDhNw4.png)