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"Good evening," he says, his voice deep and rich. "Might I have the pleasure of knowing your name?"

"Micah Dupree," you reply, offering your hand out of habit as your brain struggles to realize that all you've been hoping for your whole life may be standing directly before you.

"Dupree," he says with a coy smile as he bends down to kiss your hand. "It is a pleasure to meet you."

His lips are cold, but it isn't unexpected. All the vamps wear an ashen skin lacking a saturation of blood. He, however, had not lost the brightness of life in his eyes. A golden green looks up at you, which compliments the dark sweep of hair that sits on top his head and frames his statuesque, pallid face.

"Likewise," you manage to say between bated breaths. "And may I ask, sir, who it is that has bestowed a kiss upon my hand?"

"The Marquis Francis Degaré Ellimond, but please call me Ell." He gives a quick bow and a toothy smile that reveals his sharp canines.

"Then, please call me Micah."

"It is a great honor that I be granted such a privilege."

At that you wonder and cock your head slightly as you consider his words. "Is it? You are a Marquis, while I'm a human from the farm."

"The best farm in the world as far as I'm concerned. There has always been fine stock that comes from this town."

You blush at the compliment. "You do us a great honor."

"You'd do me a great honor if you would join me for a dance." With that he offers you his hand and before you can question your luck, you take it and follow him on to the floor just as a new song begins to float over the heads of the giddy crowd.

You start the waltz in a proper stance. Though the two of you are close together, you keep several inches between you as you step your way around the floor.

"See what I mean," he says as you both grow used to each other's movements. "I've been to other balls, but, never have I danced with a partner who had not stepped on my foot within a minute of dancing."

"Have you never come to one of our balls before Ell?" It feels weird to say such an informal name, but you weren't about to anger him by refusing a direct request. He seems friendly and polite, but you know well enough that a vampire is often short in temperament.

"I've only recently come into power, which has allowed me access to this fine ball. I must say it is quite grand."

"If I may ask, why then were you quick to ask me onto the dance floor when there are so many to peruse on your first visit here?" You bite your lip the second the question escapes you. Did you come off ungrateful? Perhaps too humble? Did he resent you for even questioning his decision?

However, as you contemplate your hasty words, Ell draws you in so that his chin hovers just above your shoulder and your torsos brush against each other in the brisk steps of the dance.

"Because I saw myself in your eyes. So many here are looking to make their way, to seal a deal and score a victory. Your friend is a clever and cunning one, I can tell. She had eyes on glory, you though, seemed captivated by these silly little pumpkins on the table. You weren't looking at the best vamp to snare, but at the wonderment of the spectacle. I too found myself lost in the pageantry and I wished to share that wonder with a quiet spirit like my own."

As your dance continues, your bodies close the gap between them. Ell's hand slides over to your lower back, his long fingers exploring your body as he pulls you into his firm chest. With your torsos so tightly entwined, you are left to press your cheek against his, his cold flesh a welcome touch against your own burning skin.

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