22 July 1892 — Fairy Court Ball, Daphnel House, Wellingtonshire

Victor was determined to make the most of this event, which meant dancing with as many potential candidates for the future Mrs. Victor Daphnel as possible. He'd lost nearly a year and had no serious direction as of yet, which wouldn't do. He didn't want to give his mother the impression that he wasn't taking this seriously, but he also didn't want to settle for someone... sub-par. He was meant to spend the rest of his life with them, after all. He had no particular attachment to the idea of falling in love with someone, but he did hope that he would at least enjoy spending time with them on occasion. (On occasion was an operative part of this; he wouldn't have been disappointed to end up like his parents, separated by more than a continent but still quite amiable regarding their marriage and children).

The garden was starting to crowd, but the band was still just warming up. The dancing would begin properly soon, and he'd have to approach someone to ask for a dance — and then several others in short succession, if he wanted to avoid skipping any of the dances. He regarded this task with the same enthusiasm he mustered for a stack of freshly delivered paperwork on his desk at work.

"Alright, listen — what's your plan of attack?" he asked one of the men he was friendly with. "The last time we invited people over I started a conversation with Miss Selwyn and she stared at me like I had four heads just for talking to her, so I want to avoid anything like that tonight."

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