Twilight Between: Day 13

Word Count: 78,012

Summary of Events:

Torben and Emma went to the Festung for the Coronation Feast, where Torben ended up being seated at the head of the Fürst table because his father-in-law had the highest rank of all the Fürsten's fathers-in-law — which he hadn't expected at all. The Coronation Feast, was followed by the Coronation Ball, where Emma, despite her youth, was attracting the attention of every young man at the ball — up to the second-oldest son of König Theoderich, as his oldest was betrothed — with some even coming after her repeatedly despite Torben's refusal to permit her to dance with them, which was getting rather frustrating . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

“Surely there is something that can be done about that,” Emma said.

She sounded almost coy as she said it, prompting Torben to look at her, which only confused him all the more, as Emma looked subtly coy too, as if she had some sort of mischievous little idea in her head.

“I’m not letting you dance Emma,” Torben said. “And I didn’t think you wanted to.”

“Well, not with any of them,” Emma replied.

Torben realised what Emma’s idea was: she would dance with him until she was tired, which meant that the young men, seeing her dancing, would not be able to dance with her, and, noting her tiredness, would respectfully wait until she had recovered her energy before coming after her again.

“I’ve already known some of the dances that have been done,” Emma said. “And surely you know all of them well enough to help me with the parts I don’t know.”

It certainly was a good idea, even if Torben had to admit that he was a little hesitant, as it was highly uncommon for parents to dance with their children in public outside of wedding dances

A young man who’d made several attempts previously approached and bowed low to Emma. “May I have this dance fair maiden?”

“Nein, you may not,” Torben said firmly.

“Can’t you let her speak for herself?” the young man snapped.

“She has already been claimed for this dance,” Torben replied.

“Oh has she?” the young man demanded. “By whom?”

“Me,” Torben replied. “Not that I would consider granting you a dance with her anyways considering the impudence with which you are presently addressing me.”

“But you’re her father!” the young man exclaimed.

“Every daughter dances with her father at her wedding,” Torben replied. “And I can assure you — having married four of my daughters already — that we practise together many times before then.”

The young man looked as if his mouth were protesting, but his throat had yet to come up with the accompanying sounds to give voice to his mouth’s grievance, but Torben escorted Emma into the dancing area and positioned his hands for the dance.

As the music started Torben saw a look of worry on Emma’s face, and he could feel her lagging slightly, which didn’t surprise him, as he knew this dance was one that she wasn’t as good at.

Torben didn’t back out of it, but instead started quietly whispering instructions not unlike those given by her dancing teacher that helped Emma keep up with the more brisk rhythm of this dance than she’d been practising it at.

Throughout the dance, so as to feed his imagining that they were not in the Royal Ballroom in Odalrichsaal, but were back home in his own, much more modest ballroom, where it was just the two of them, Mina, Penrod, a few musicians, and the teacher, Torben kept his gaze locked on Emma’s hair, for she wasn’t quite tall enough that he could look in her eyes with her as close to him as she was.