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Welcome to Charming, the year is now 1894. It’s time to join us and immerse yourself in scandal and drama interlaced with magic both light and dark.

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Did you know? Jewelry of jet was the haute jewelry of the Victorian era. — Fallin
What she got was the opposite of what she wanted, also known as the subtitle to her marriage.
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Playing With Matches
#1
March 6th, 1891 — Hogsmeade Memorial Ballroom — Dueling Reception

Emrys had multiple relations participating in the dueling tournament this afternoon, and had managed to secure Anthea's extra ticket to the reception that evening; the benefits of having a younger sister determined to become a spinster was that she had no one in particular she would rather invite. Emrys did have the distinction of being the person most likely to leave her alone during the course of the evening, so if she was looking to escape the thralls of a chaperone she'd chosen very well.

He didn't expect to be particularly interested in the reception for it's own sake. He'd taken more of an active interest in otherwise boring social events since he'd decided he needed to marry, but most of the women on his list hadn't been involved in the tournament today — it was one of those strange activities on the borderline of what was considered ladylike. A married woman might participate and even win without anyone speaking less of her, but for a debutante who was trying to appear demure it was decidedly less fitting for them to come out on the dueling stage all fire and flash.

Speaking of fire and flash — the one woman who was on his list that he'd taken notice of during the tournament was wandering by, drifting in the way people often did at social events when they were between conversations. "That was an impressive shield in your last duel," he said as he approached. "The moderator called you Professor — you teach at Hogwarts?" he asked with feigned curiosity, as though he didn't already know.

@"Angelica Vorona" Hermia Bonaccord



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#2
Angelica felt more regal than angelic tonight, the red velvet of her gown hugging every inch of her in a statement of blatant refusal to disappear into the background. Tonight, she felt invincible and had no plans to disguise it.

While her position was fulling, it lacked the rush of adrenaline and competetive fuel she loved dearly. Angel still questioned her choice not to apply for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position prior to Octavius' arrival but givening Black the satisfaction of denying her the appointment was not in her plans.

Wandering the room seeking no one in particular, Angel was stopped by the approaching wizard. She knew his face, it was too attractive not to remember, but his name was a mystery. Still, he approached her without introducation. Interesting. Offering his a tiny smile at his compliments, she raised an eyebrow. He didn't even know who she was, but he approached anyhow. Interesting in deed. "I find that a shield that lacks a bite of its own far too dull with an audience in attendance. It is much the same as a classroom, but my subject tends to baffel the mind and leave the body in rather more painless position than an aggressive shield." It would be a lie to say she didn't see her work as a bit of a performance piece. Maintaing the attention of children was far more difficult than spell mastery.

Allowing this stranger to think on her possible subject for a moment before choosing to skip the guessing games, Angel offered, "I am the professor of arithmancy. Unfortunately, there is little room for spellwork in my craft. Hexing students is highly frowned upon, Mister...?" She allowed her inflection and open curiosity prompt him for his identity.

Note: I have been dying to use this dress and Lynn finally gave me a chance! One | Two



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#3
Well, if she wanted him to guess, she hadn't given him many clues. Her subject baffled the mind — but surely any professor would have said that of their passion project, after being forced to try and teach it to teenagers nine months out of the year? He was musing over how clever he wanted her to think he was — he already knew what she taught, after all, so he could pretend to have guessed it, but then he might have to feign some enthusiasm for arithmancy. He didn't dislike arithmancy, but having to gush about any subject could be exhausting. Luckily, she saved him from having to decide when she announced it herself. He smiled pleasantly at that — then transitioned to a playful smirk at her last remark. Hexing students sounded fun — and if she thought so, too, maybe she wasn't too enamored with children. That was a boon; he would much sooner feign an interest in arithmancy than one in children.

"Yes, I suppose it would be," he said with a mischievous glint to his eye, before proceeding to introduce himself. "Emrys Selwyn." She would likely know the last name, with both of his brothers occupying vaguely prominent positions in society — Trystan in law and Daniel in media. Whether or not she recognized his name, however, might depend on how well she paid attention to society events, as he was more broadly known for his parties with their exclusive guests lists than he was for his business interests.

If he had to guess, he might say that she was at least comfortable in society events — her dress, at any rate, was not the sort of thing a meek woman would wear, and confidence was nine-tenths of fitting into society, he thought. He thought about complimenting her on the outfit, but he didn't want to seem trite or pandering and couldn't tell if the compliments that came to mind fell into either category.

"If you mean to imply you're out of practice from your time in the classroom, it makes your display during the duel all the more impressive," he pointed out. "Perhaps it's best for your competitors that your subject doesn't leave much room for exotic hexes."



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#4
Oh, he was going to be fun. Angelica certainly hadn't plan on being approached by a stranger with the irresistable look of trouble about him, but she was nothing if not adaptable. He also avoided one of the cardinal sins of men and didn't belittle her subject. She had heard plenty of men's opinions on how arithmancy was best left to the superior male. The fools. So far, this mystery wizard was safely in the "not yet a fool" designation.

Her little smirk became a full grin at his revelation. "Ah, the mysterious other Selwyn brother." Angelica had stayed well outside the gossip and drama that followed one of the great pureblood families, but she was only human. She kept her finger on the pulse of Society, even if she avoided the tangles at its center. "Let's see," she tapped a delicate finger on her painted lips, "Not a Ministry man nor a writer, what is it you do?" She had some idea, she knew there was another business venture in the family, but she had heard whispers of his parties. What happened at so exclusive an event was a mystery as when she brought it up, Felix always dodged her question. The idea of there being an event so exculsive she was denied seemed ridiculous, but the school year severly hampered her ability to socialize. She continued to live vicariously through Felix and events like this, where she can shed her robes and embrace her womanhood.

It was ridiculous how much she savored the compliment. Merlin, it felt so good to be seen as something other than the bearer of essays and calculations. The competitor in her her glowed with the recognition. "Out of practice may be a bit of a stretch." She gave a tiny shrug, "Unfortunately, the rules of competion also keep me from practicing the more interesting spells. Something about decimating your opponent being unladylike and poor form. More's the pity."

Offering him a curtsey as if she hadn't joked about maiming the ladies of society, Angelica met his gaze with a grin. "I am Professor Angelica Vorona, but it seems you are already aware."

Emrys Selwyn

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#5
Emrys bit his lip to contain a smile at her jibe about more interesting spells. He liked her, he'd decided. It wasn't the idea of decimating opponents — he had never particularly been one for anything that aggressive, and bloodshed (or dismemberment, or maiming, et cetera) had always made him vaguely queasy. It was the fact that she was willing to skirt the rules that appealed to him — and that she was bold enough to say so in conversation with an almost perfect stranger. Though she had heard of him, at least — and she called him mysterious, which Emrys took as a compliment.

"Piracy," he joked easily, with a wry smirk. "And shady black market business investments." Of course, he did indulge in a few of those, but most of his income came from investments that were entirely above-board — and the shipping company was perfectly legitimate, no piracy or smuggling of any kind. It just didn't sound very sexy to tell her he made his money shuffling other people's things around the world for them, so he'd decided to dress it up a bit.

Emrys returned her curtsy with a slight bow and a smile of his own. "Not as aware as I might have liked," he said, having lost his hesitancy from a moment earlier to compliment her. She'd intrigued him, and he wanted to give her at least enough to dissuade her from wandering away too quickly, even if he ran the risk of seeming over-eager. "Do you play cards, Professor?"



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#6
A lifetime of practice containing her impulses was the only thing that kept her from a full-voiced laugh, but she couldn't hold in a bit of a snicker. Pressing her lips tight to contain any more of her reaction, Angel could only shake her head. "Piracy, Mr. Selwyn? Thankfully, we have established my ability to shield myself. Who else could possibly protect me?" Her eyes glittered with amusement, her tone just teetering on the edge of mockery. Angelica had never played distressed damsel with any conviction. It was too ridiculous and she, too aware of the world.

"It would seem the gossip columns have all wrong. Perhaps you are the most dangerous rouge in the room. I will make certain to watch my step." She found him interesting, she decided. Witty and just courageous enough to approach a stranger, the devil take the opinions of the room.

Something that sounded like a genuine compliment had her ducking her head with a small grin. She rewarded him with a small step in his direction, a reorientation of space. She didn't need the debutants gasping behind their fans, but Angel was enjoying the game she'd stumbled into.

"I play many things, cards being one of them." She added the last with all the innocence in the world. A slight twitching at the corner of her lips made it clear she wasn't going to hold the facade well.


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#7
"The most dangerous rogue would, by necessity, be the one missing from the gossip columns," he pointed out with a smirk and a suggestive raise of his eyebrow. "If a pirate ship flew a black flag into port, it might give the game away and come away empty handed. A more deceptive appearance, on the other hand, may mean even the most well protected city finds itself surprised," he said, emphasizing the word protected just slightly, to mirror her comment from a moment earlier. He had no doubt she was quite capable of providing her own protection — but the veiled threat (offer?) to raid her shores still applied.

If he had decided to goad her a bit with the piracy analogy, she was determined to give as good as she got, it seemed. Her comment about how she played many things brought another wry smile to his face, but since she had affected such an innocence to her tone, he decided to follow suit. "Oh, you play?" he asked, voice alight with feigned curiosity. "The harp, or the flute?" One being an instrument that required nimble fingers, and the other a talented tongue — a layer he suspected she would note. This was fun, talking to someone who had some actual experience in the world and who could understand the sorts of jokes he liked to make — this would have gone well over the head of a young debutante. That was why he had never married, honestly; young women bored him. This woman, on the other hand, was anything but boring.

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#8
"Would that be the mysterious, other, pirate?" She added her earlier assessment of him into their shared analogy. Angelica felt her breath catch for just a moment as she followed his imagery. Not at all what she anticipated for the evening, but it would be a lie to say she was anything but intrigued. This was not a game she had played in years, and certainly never with a stranger in public, but the heat of adrenaline had her wondering why the hell she'd waited this long.

"And this dangerous pirate of our little legend," Angel hoped her tone was lighter than it sounded to her at the moment, "were he to find a city so well protected. Do you suppose he would lay siege, were the prize worth the risk?" Generations of her ancestors, her late husband, and the horrid crone that taught etiquette when Angel was in school were spinning in their graves, but apologies weren't rushing to mind.

Angelica's smirk quickly overtook her, his meaning glaringly obvious. "I am offended by the implication, sir." Her tone was anything but. "I prefer the violin. It requires the entirety of the musician to play so sensitive an instrument, don't you agree?" To her credit, Angel actually did play the violin, it was one of the first tasks she tackled when newly out of her father's home, but whether Mr. Selwyn would ever know either sense of her musicianship was still to be seen.



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#9
Emrys was having to bite the inside of his lip more or less constantly now to keep from smiling too much. It wouldn't have been seemly to go grinning like a fool at every hint of a dirty joke. He did raise his eyebrows briefly and suggestively in response to her first question, to confirm that she'd pinned him correctly in the metaphor. At her question regarding laying siege, he glanced down at her dress (really her body) as though considering his response.

"Mm, perhaps," he offered with a casual shrug. "It's contrary to a pirate's nature to lay siege. They thrive on adventure and excitement — swift strikes, daring deeds, and rich bounties. But," he said with a smirk, "For a truly exceptional prize, perhaps one might be persuaded."

He didn't believe for a minute that she was offended by either implication, and might have pressed her on it if she hadn't continued so smoothly. He was pushing the boundaries a little quickly here, he recognized, already tempted to push back on innuendo. It was contrary to his typical methods of wooing women he was interested in, where he laid out little bread crumbs for them to follow over the course of weeks. Maybe it was because he was typically pursuing married women that he was typically more careful, or maybe it was something about her that had him feeling especially bold (like the pirate he'd pretended to be).

"I'll admit I don't play, though I consider myself a connoisseur of fine music," he admitted. "But I've always been quite appreciative of how a skilled performer can bring forth such a wide range of notes from such a unassuming instrument."



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#10
It would speak ill of Angelica's character to admit how much she was enjoying this innuendo-laden dialogue, but shame was absent from the conversation. Considering a man she'd known less than an hour just assessed her appearance without pretense, shame should have at least earned a cameo.

Unable - fine, unwilling - to contain her smug reaction, Angelica gave him a quick raise of her eyebrows, her well? implied. "Does this pass muster, Captain?" She quipped as if she was truly concerned with his reaction. "I do hope those shady black market investments left you with an eye for quality."

The reasonable centers of her brain, usually the majority, were reminding her of how many ways this could go wrong. Her first ambitious foray into such matters got her the match she wanted, but reality had quickly soured the fantasy. She wasn't seventeen any longer and she learned the price of impulses, Merlin, did she learn. It was completely irrational to encourage this but was it truly so horrible to just enjoy herself?

She watched him carefully, pleasantly surprised by the admission, although it was a small one. "A bit hard to master an instrument with the heavy demands of your adventures and criminal empire, I'm sure." Angel offered as if it was truly how he spent his days. She was loath to admit that it sounded far more intriguing than marking essays.



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#11
Again, Emrys was fighting to contain a smile as she so brazenly asked his opinion of her, after his appraisal. She was certainly a confident woman, and he liked that very much — though he wondered fleetingly if he would like it as much in a wife as he would in an affair partner. Women who were insecure were much more easily lead, he had always noted — a few well-placed compliments could talk them into or out of almost anything. He hadn't given much thought to the role his future wife might play in his life, particularly. His ideal would have been that she didn't influence his decisions whatsoever, and kept to herself — something that he wasn't sure he would be able to expect from Professor Vorona. She hardly seemed like the sort to be content lingering on the sidelines. So the next question was: did he like her enough to revisit his expectations of marriage?

"I have an exceptional eye for quality," he responded with a suggestive smirk. "But no investor would make a value judgement without a more thorough inspection." In context, he was sure she would take that remark as an allusion to something physical — which he certainly was not even remotely opposed to — but there was more to it, too. He needed to puzzle her out as a person, beyond just her body (that he could likely have passed an approving judgement on already, given how little her dress left to the imagination).

"At least the demands of my criminal empire have not prevented me from enjoying the fruits of others' devotion to the craft," he teased lightly. "Though I do prefer a concert or a duet to a solo performance, I must admit. Would you join me for cards, Professor?" He asked, leaving her no immediate room to respond to his comment about concerts and duets.



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#12
Perhaps a man so willing to engage in suggestive conversation should repel her, she was well-bred enough to know it should, but Angel only felt an attraction. Attraction was far more dangerous. Did he hold himself like this in all his interactions? That was a concerning thought if Mr. Selwyn could be so forward with her, would he be so with every witch that caught his eye? More importantly, why on Earth did it matter to her?

"I come from a family of investors, Mr. Selwyn," If her voice took on a lick of heat when she said his name, who could blame her, "I am quite aware of the dangers of a hasty arrangement." She gave herself a moment to take him in, it was only fair that she also assess what he could bring to the table. "Though I admit, the urge for a more cursory trial is always a temptation." The last was as honest as it was flirtatious. If she were to make such a foolish decision, a man such as he would be the cause.

Her momentary disappointment was replaced quickly by the urge to return the verbal volley, even if his mention of concerts certainly surprised her. She meant to probe that particular statement when he offered her a far more appropriate invitation. Weighing the question for just a moment longer, if only for suspense, Angelica answered with a smile almost devoid of mischief. "It would be my pleasure."



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