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Pyrene's Dreamland

Ariadne closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

Julia exhaled slowly, then opened her eyes and allowed the page to escort her down the sweeping staircase, fixing a smile on her face as all the men her stepfather had invited looked up. She was supposed to be celebrating her sixteenth birthday after all: her grand debut in society. She was supposed to be too innocent to realize that tonight men of wealth and influence would be weighing and measuring her - too naive to realize that her stepfather was auctioning her off to the highest bidder. So she smiled with practiced blandness, nodding here and there to some of the younger, kinder-looking gentlemen, and trying not to feel.

As soon as she could, Julia escaped to the balcony for a breath of fresh air. It was a temporary refuge at best, but at least she'd have a clear view of anyone who sought her out. The summer air was warm, and none of her father's intended suitors pursued her, so Julia began to relax slightly. Suddenly she realized that someone was in fact following her out. Tensing again, she watched him come, trying to place him in the sea of people to whom she had been introduced in the last hour. He was younger than most of her stepfather's candidates - no more than eighteen, by the looks of him - and despite his immaculate finery seemed slightly ill at ease, unaccountably 'different' than the rest of the guests.

Finally emerging from the crowd, her uninvited visitor paused in the doorway, giving her a look she would more likely have expected from someone approaching a strange dog of uncertain temper.

"Lady Julia, I presume?" His question, voiced in a soft but pleasant tenor, was nearly lost to the noise of the party as he sketched a hesitant bow. "My name is Ian," he added as he straightened, his expression now remeniscient of a puppy that suspects it is in trouble. The juxtaposition was too much - Julia giggled.

"Please, come closer, I don't bite," she assured him. "Forgive me, but I cannot seem to recall your family name, Master Ian."

"Please, just Ian. In truth, my family is not overly wealthy - at least not enough to warrent an invitation to your party - but I had hoped that you might appreciate a bit of conversation with someone less than twice your age."

There was an edge to Ian's voice as he said this that she could not immediately identify. Perhaps he was worried that she might have him thrown out - which she quite legitimately could have done since he had admitted he had no invitation. And yet...

"I could at that. But in that case you must call me Julia." Smiling genuinely for the first time all day, Julia stuck out her hand, which Ian promptly shook.

"Deal. Let me get us both something to drink and I'll be right back." Ian disappeared, oblivious to the sudden chill that swept over Julia despite the warm summer night.

Just for an instant, when their hands met, Julia thought she had seen blood - Ian's blood - running over both their hands.