Ballroom Games

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"You won't be successful if you keep watching him," Alexis says, loud enough for just my ears to hear. "The whole art of jealousy works on the basis of a cold shoulder." Dragging my gaze away from Manik, I frown at my dance partner.

"I'm not - "

"Nandini, please don't insult my sensibilities by trying to deny it." Alexis interrupts, offering me a knowing look. "I'm not an imbecile," he adds, halting my protests in my throat.

"Can you blame me?" I exclaim, drawing the curious, unwanted attention of the couples who are circling the dance floor around us. In an attempt to quell the slightest whispers of gossip before they have a chance to begin, Alexis and I, both, offer those around us our most radiant, convincing smiles.

"No one holds each other that intimately close during a waltz," I whisper, once I'm convinced that the other couples have diverted their attention back to each other.

"Now they do," Alexis says, his fingers pressing into my back as he draws me closer against his front.

Through the corner of my eye, I watch Manik's head lift in our direction, almost as if he sensed the growing physical proximity between his friend and I. Although I can feel Manik's eyes boring holes into the side of my head, I refuse to offer him the pleasure of attaining my attention. Unlike me, however, Alexis turns his head to meet Manik's unwavering gaze head on. Smiling jovially - feigning utter innocence - my dance partner nods his head at the man in question.

"I fail to fathom how anyone can leave such a beautiful, graceful dance partner for another." Alexis says, the moment our path draws close to Manik and Malia's. Coyly, I look up at Manik through my lashes, allowing him a proper view of my shy smile at Alexis' complimentary words. My husband's mouth is set in a tight, straight line, his eyes narrowing at me ever so slightly.

"What can I say? One man's loss is another man's gain," Alexis sighs, shrugging his shoulders as if he cannot help but accept the good fortune that has come his way. Had it not been for the tick in Manik's jaw, I'd have deemed him to be utterly unaffected by Alexis' words, and actions.

"Off we go," Alexis announces, pressing his arm into my side and swirling me in the opposite direction from Manik; away from him and his dance partner. "You're a fast learner," he compliments me, once we're well away from my husband.

"That's because I have a stellar teacher," I tease, satisfaction spreading through me at the memory of Manik's face mere moments ago. Even with my back turned towards him, I can still feel his eyes on me.

"Quick question, Nandini," Alexis chirps up, his gaze fixated on a spot beyond my shoulder. "You will save me from a beheading if the situation arises, right?" A peal of laughter rings out from my lips, my shoulders shaking with mirth.

"Alexis, might I remind you that the most powerful player on the chessboard is the queen, not the king," I say, a smile lingering on my lips.

"Oh, thank God," Alexis sighs, his shoulders sagging forwards with relief. "Because given the way your husband is currently glaring daggers at me, I'd rather be cautious than sorry." The knowledge that Manik is currently burning in an inferno of jealousy has me feeling immensely powerful. In fact, I quite enjoy having the upper hand in what started as a disadvantaged situation for me.

Once the music comes to an end, Alexis escorts me off the dance floor before wandering off to find himself a drink. Casting my gaze around the crowded ballroom, which is still very much alive with energised guests, who seem to be in no mood, whatsoever, to retire anytime soon, courtesy of the alcohol in their blood, I allow my eyes to linger momentarily on Manik.

Similar to Alexis, he is also performing the gentlemanly duty of escorting Malia off the dance floor. However, just as he's about to turn away from her, Manik's friend lays her hand on his forearm, drawing his attention solely back onto her. In an instant, my good mood is doused at the sight of Malia saying something to Manik, his response to which is the spread of his lazy grin that I adore so much.

Like the stubborn leech that she is, Malia continues to hold a steady stream of conversation with Manik, despite his distracted state of mind. Instead of focussing his whole attention on his friend, Manik continues to glance around the room, almost as if he's looking for someone. Another past fling of his I'm sure. Scoffing, I roll my eyes in annoyance at the thought that this room must be filled with past dalliances of Manik's, and to think that I was actually looking forward to tonight as a couple.

Bringing myself back into the present, I realise that Manik's eyes are now trained on me; an unreadable expression clouding his gaze. Setting my jaw in a firm line, I meet his stare head-on without so much as exposing a sliver of emotion on my face. I want Manik to see my displeasure at his careless behaviour as clear as day. Raising an aristocratic palm in Malia's direction, Manik begins to carve his path towards me - through the throng of dancers - without so much as excusing himself from her presence. In doing so, not once does he shift his gaze away from mine.

"Would you honour me with this dance?" An unfamiliar male voice asks from beside me. Tearing my eyes away from Manik's, I turn towards the source of the voice. Patiently awaiting my response - hand outstretched for mine - is a tall slender man, who towers well over my frame. Judging from the tan on his face, I can tell that he's travelled across lands far and wide to attend our ball tonight.

"The pleasure would be all mine." I say gratefully, slipping my hand into his calloused palm. My permission is met with a dazzling smile that crinkles the corners of the man's eyes in a manner that is meant to put the recipient at utter ease. As my dance partner begins to escort me towards the dance floor, I offer Manik a pointed look over my shoulder, only to find him stopped cold in his tracks. However, the chilling blast in his smouldering gaze is enough to make me rethink my decision to give him the cut direct.

"Is everything alright?" The stranger at my side asks, his perceptive gaze travelling down towards my faltering steps.

"Absolutely," I lie, plastering a smile onto my lips.

"So finally, we've had the good fortune of meeting the Warrior Princess in a more informal environment than that of our council meetings." The man chirps up in an attempt to make light conversation with me while we dance, as is expected of us by the norms of society.

"Finally," I agree, letting out a breathy chuckle, my attention only partially focussed on his words. Truth be told, the only man capable of holding my attention is the one who has turned the full force of his bone-chilling stare towards me, while he watches me over my dance partner's shoulder. Tipping my chin up ever so slightly in an act of haughty defiance, I draw myself closer into my dancer partner's arms. As a result of the sudden unexpected movement, his arm that's resting on my waist slips below what is permissible. The right thing for me to do in such a situation would be to politely tell the gentleman to raise his arm to where it should be positioned, and return to the boundaries of decency. However, given the current situation, I am not feeling so magnanimous towards Manik.

Purposefully, I watch Manik's gaze trail a languid path down towards the man's wayward arm before he locks eyes with me once again. For the second time tonight, I watch a muscle leap in Manik's jaw at the sight that lies in front of him. In the next second, however, I watch my husband wash his expression of all signs of emotion. Cocking an eyebrow at me, Manik allows the ghost of a smirk to tug at the corner of his lips. I'm unsure of when I issued a challenge, but the answering gleam in his eyes tells me that he has accepted it. Before I can so much as open my mouth in protest, and call out to my husband, he's already winding his way towards a group of ladies. Frown lines etch themselves into my forehead as I realise that Manik and I have begun a game just now; one that I'm not so confident I'll win. 

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