It was difficult to keep her distance when he first approached her months ago, but now that she knew the warmth of his cologne and the weight of his hands, she was finding the socially mandated limits stifling. She loathed arbitrary restrictions, really any restriction that wasn't her own design. There were always exceptions to rules, but any indication of impropriety when she almost expected her twin to pop in from the hedge was unthinkable.

Hand coming to the gems at her throat, smokey quartz and gold, she settled for pressing his gift against her collarbone. Perhaps it was sentimental and foolish - she'd swear it was rebellion - but she wanted his tokens on her tonight. She wore the color her father required,  the Corvo crest secured her gown at the waist, she had danced with and chatted with anyone she was commanded to tonight; she had been the picture of devotion in all ways but one. She wore Mr. Selwyn's gift, was anxious on his behalf, both things her father would never know. It was a pity; she enjoyed the role of the impertinent former favorite whenever the chance arose.

"Don't say that; you've hardly tested me." Her cocky little grin was becoming more and commonplace around him; she couldn't help it (or at least refused to police the reaction on a regular basis). "I would silence the inclination. If you prove magnanimous, it may break him. Save some of your tricks for the next time I want him humbled."

"I was considering a turn through the maze to observe some of the better sculptures. Would you care to join me, Mr. Selwyn?" She kept her tone light, would resemble her name in propriety for his sake, but she was eager, if still a bit nervous, to spend a moment with him that felt private. She wanted time with the man behind the letters, perhaps time would calm her and her horrible impulse to monologue around him.

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