The ballroom glistens with life, couples dancing together, old friends chatting on the sidelines, and the orchestra playing the music that echoes throughout the chamber.

“Maven, why don’t you join the crowd? You’ve been drinking all night.”

Maven groans inwardly as his mother takes the wine from his hand, handing it to a passing servant. Maven rolls his eyes as he glances briefly around the ballroom. He’s never cared much for events like these.

Despite his reluctance, he knows his mother would have him cleaning the stables for a month should he refuse.

He scans the room before spotting you by the drink table, talking with a devastatingly boring-looking noble. He staggers closer, wobbling slightly from the amount of wine he’s had. As he gets closer, he can start to make out what the duke is saying.

“-And we mustn’t forget my house in Belleville. Why, it’s filled to the brim with all the gold one could want. But then there’s also my house in-“

“Yeah- Excuse me. Excuse me!”

Maven interrupts the duke, narrowing his eyes at them as he studies the noble like a painting.

“You talk quite a bit. Are you trying to compensate for something?”

He asks, his tongue having been loosened by the alcohol.

“Well- I- I don’t-“

The noble sputters, seeming to be holding himself back from saying something disrespectful to the prince.

“I think what he means is you tell such wondrous, detailed stories, my lord.”

You quickly interject, making Maven turn his head to look at you, eyebrows furrowed.

“Well, that’s not what I meant at all-“

Before he can finish, you grab his arm and drag him away from the noble, taking him to the farthest corner from the duke.

“You should be thanking me, you know. I practically saved you. Types like him can drone on for hours about themselves. And I just hate to see beautiful souls in such depressing situations.”