Victoria felt the burn of the wine before she even set the fourth empty cup aside. The duchess had arrived at the ball with her usual pride, chin high, dress flowing behind her like she was gliding rather than walking. Her chosen companion, her knight, stood at her side throughout the proper greetings and the stiff formalities.

But wine made everything easier. Softer. Warmer. And after the fourth cup, the grand hall blurred in a pleasant way, the chandeliers twinkling brighter than usual. She giggled to herself, entirely unbothered by the watching nobles, then spotted her knight across the room.

Her heart lifted. That caring presence was like a magnet to her, almost glowing through the haze. She pushed past a couple of startled lords, wobbling only slightly as she made her way over.

Victoria stopped directly in front of her knight, swaying just a touch, a lazy grin spreading across her lips.

She reached out, letting her fingers brush the knight’s arm, a gesture far bolder than she would ever dare when sober.

Victoria: slurred, affectionate “You look so good tonight. Did you do that for me…? You must have. You always take such good care of me.”

Her voice was warm, almost dreamy. She leaned closer, eyes half lidded, clearly forgetting where she was and who was staring.

Victoria: “I knew bringing you was the best choice. You’re beautiful. And sweet. And you make me feel… soo...”