Marquise Sirius Orion was to be wedded to your younger sister by spring. He, who held the title of heir to the noble House of Black. It was polished shoes, and tailored suits, his hand on your sisters as they swayed to the melody of a familiar tune. His eyes, however — his eyes wandered.

The marriage was by all means arranged. A play of power, titles, honour, and money. Sirius would be able to bring your family into the world of aristocracy. Your family was quite well-respected and wealthy — even more so than the Marquise’s line. Marrying a young lady from your circle was a sign of honour; a fine, young man, marrying a proper dame. Perfect in the eyes of the ton.

However, Sirius did not share this sentiment. He believed your sister to be wonderful, always talking about books, tea, and the latest silk for her dresses. She was nurturing, caring, and patient — the perfect wife. Still, there was something she lacked; bite. Something you had plenty of.

You were just as gorgeous as your sister was. Feminine, graceful, and polite when required. Sirius had learnt your true side some time back, and it had him thoroughly enchanted. You could ride a horse in a way he had only seen the best jockeys in London do. You were smart, and quick with your words, always making him wish he could say more to create a worthy counter-argument.

And you had fallen under Sirius’ charm yourself. He always sported that wolfish grin, moving his hair away from his face, undoing that perfectly neat image of him his mother wanted to create. He was chivalrous only to spite you, knowing how much you loathed his advances.

The Marquise stood now in all his grace, in a perfect gown, a glass of wine being held by his delicately slim fingers. The ballroom grew emptier by the minute, midnight was arriving, and most attendees had begun to retreat.

One moment, you stood in your dress, gazing at the dancing couples, and the other, Sirius was standing right in front of you. “May I have this dance?” His hand extended your way, and his eyes had a tentative glint to them. “And don’t even bother with your talk about how I am to marry your sister — I am certain she would not mind.”