A shiver swept through Basren as Sovele left. All of the discomfort on Sovele's part--the edge to his smile and asking for a dance later--was that for Basren's sake or was he changing his mind, finding himself more upset than he ought? Or perhaps he would warn Alaras what might happen if he mistreated Basren...<br/><br/><i>Impossible</i>, he thought. The only way that would be true would be if Sovele was dragging Alaras around the dance floor to make sure he understood that Basren<i>belonged </i>to him, and always would. Perhaps even that Basren would still serve him, as he'd said.<br/><br/>His stomach twisted into a knot. Alaras had been upset enough when he'd found out before. If Sovele was still staking his claim, would Alaras fail to strike the engagement? It had certainly taken less than that to drive off suitors before. It had nearly run Alaras off already.<br/><br/>He would just have to scrape together as much of his best qualities as he could that night and hope Alaras didn't abandon him.<br/><br/>It seemed just as impossible. He had nothing but a charming countenance and his health.<br/><br/>The first dance was rather smooth, he thought. Alaras didn't mind letting him lead, which was frankly relieving, though he'd never say so out loud, and that meant he could spin them about the floor and make Alaras look almost graceful. It was a meager skill, but it was there. In stark contrast, the dances Alaras took in contrast were much clumsier. Basren thought he could already hear how well they suited one another, their dance and their clothes, and what a pity it was Sovele kept Basren so under lock.<br/><br/>That last part, heard in quiet snatches behind fans or cups, gave Basren his first flush of pleasure for the evening. If only they knew! It would be a shock, but judging from what people were saying, a happy one. They<i>suited </i>one another. Basren squeezed down the bubble threatening to expand his chest tight.<br/><br/>Alaras was a little clumsier in his arms for the second dance, if only because he'd been swept up to the floor so often, he barely seemed to have room to breathe. His dance card had been filled, so whether his partners now wished to suffer under his tramping feet or not, they had somewhat of an obligation to. Even when someone mysteriously didn't come for his hand, Alaras seemed not to mind.<br/><br/>Their second dance had been noted, though. More comments on their dress. More comments on how well they looked together. Sneaking glances at Sovele and Basren. Basren slid his courtly mask into place and dared not look at Sovele unless he was sure Sovele was not looking at him. And since Alaras had claimed a second dance, more had filled his dance card than usually dared.<br/><br/>There was a lull to give everyone in the ballroom the chance to rest, and Basren was dizzy with the prospect of his third dance. He had no time to think. His blood was up, the whirl of stardust floor and cloudy roof blotting out all thought, and then Alaras was back to take his hand.<br/><br/>The whispers started immediately. He could feel every set of eyes trained on them, though it was the weight of Sovele's attracted gaze that burnt the worst. Basren still dared not look.<br/><br/>Alaras smelled like the flowers he'd given him, now gently crushed between their chests, and the salt of sweat where he'd been exerting himself. He was warm, solid underneath Basren's hands. The tickle of his words in his ear sent a jolt of heat down his spine that rose back up to his neck and cheeks, and he was sure Alaras could feel how hot his face had become while they were pressed so close to one another.<br/><br/>"Follow my lead," he said. "It will be fine."<br/><br/><i>I am not so sure Sovele approves.</i><br/><br/>Basren sucked in a silent breath. "He's..." He chanced, just once, a glance to Sovele as they turned. The hard cold stare, fixated. Basren nearly stumbled on the next step himself, and it was only the tightening of Alaras' arm that kept him in sync. Now Basren sounded less sure. "It will be fine. Please, keep dancing with me."<br/><br/>They did. It was not as graceful, but they fell into step with each other, and by the end, they'd fallen into almost a trance. The repeated steps were easy, and Basren had tried to walk him through it until Alaras had remembered.<br/><br/>At the end of it, their hands stayed link, raised, as Basren walked him off of the dancefloor to refreshments. They left gossipers in their wake, and more eyes were glued to them, though the ones near Sovele had turned to him instead. If there was going to be open drama, then it would be right then. Basren stood his ground, both hands wrapped around the stem of a wineglass, and held his breath to see if Sovele and Anis would descend on them again.