Not Your Fairy Godmother

17 - The Ice King, The Witch and The Wardrobe

Even when he sat on the floor he displayed a certain amount of grace. The straight curve of his back, the contained placement of his limbs and the delicate balance of his wrist all exhibited his grooming and class.

"Hey, were you a dancer, before?"

"Of what variety?"

"I dunno. Is there more than one?"

"Yes, Miss Merryweather. There is more than one form of dance."

"Well, you look like someone who knows ballet."

"Excellent guess," he sounded like a school teacher, "I did learn ballet when I was young."

"Weren't you teased for it?"

"On the contrary. There were more girls in class than boys and I was one of the better looking ones." He smirked.

Matilda rolled her eyes, "I'm only asking because you move like a dancer."

"How so?"

"I don't know... just feels that way." Matilda couldn't articulate the signs her mind picked up.

"Try to explain it." He urged.

Matilda thought about it, "It's like... you know how to position yourself in the best possible way. I don't know. That's how it looks anyways." What am I doing? Stop rambling!

"Very well put, Miss Merryweather." Alton obliged.

They sat in silence which Matilda found to be uncomfortable. How could she just be there and sit around doing nothing?

"Do you still dance?"

"I do not have time for it and my limbs are not as nimble as before."

"Aah," Matilda nodded.

Another bout of silence.

"How's your sister?"

"What?"

"How's Ophelia doing these days?"

"Are you close with my sister?"

"No."

"Then what she is doing should not be any of your concern, Miss Merryweather."

"Right." Matilda clicked her tongue several times.

If this were a romantic comedy, the situation would be vastly different. For one thing, things might not be so awkward, for another, she would be in here with Sebastian and not Alton. Matilda wondered what it would have been like to be locked up with Sebastian. They would probably laugh and joke around without noticing how much time had gone.

With Alton, each second seemed like an hour. It was too long and too agonizing.

Matilda tried to come up with something else to get him talking. She sorted through all she knew about Alton; that he was an arrogant, pompous ass who—Matilda caught her self. No, no. This is not the time to be hating on him. She browsed through her mind again.

Riley Alton Spencer, two years her senior. Lost his parents at seventeen, Sebastian was fifteen. Started earning for his family right out of high school although Matilda wasn't sure how, Sebastian never talked about the details. Was a famous reporter before he started his own magazine called The Journal which was labeled as "The Intellectual Man's Vogue", a title Matilda found to be both sexist and overrating.

Beyond his professional accomplishments, Matilda knew very little about the man. She knew he was once married but had divorced. The details of which, again, Sebastian had not revealed and she had not been interested.