The ancient Greeks saw the figure of the Greek myth Orion in the night time sky. There are several different stories about the birth of Orion. According to one version of the myth, Orion was the son of a poor shepherd called Hyrieus. Once, Zeus, Hermes, and Poseidon stopped by Hyrieus' house. Hyrieus was so generous with his guests that he killed the only animal he had-an ox to feed them. Hyrieus was not aware that his guests were gods. The gods wanted to reward Hyrieus' generosity by granting him a wish. Hyrieus' biggest desire was to have a child. After nine months, a boy was born in that place. The child became a very handsome and strong man.
Mornings in London were one of the few things that Alex missed. Rolling out of bed, stretching in the warm, golden, light peeking through the curtains. There was no rush of looming deadlines or business meetings. There was a whole symphony of random sounds to be heard as the city started to come to life.
Alex sat in the library, putting final touches on the business correspondence and ledgers he had to mail to New York. On his left were the annual reports of the titled estates that he would inherit one day. He had already gone through them in America but there were a few areas, regarding replacing the irrigation systems, that he wanted to discuss with his father.
It took time thinking of himself as a titled gentleman again. He had been a working man for the last six years slaving over Riot Industries. If it wasn't for his money or title acceptance would be a hard thing to find among the ton of London. He paid them no heed as long as they didn't openly voice their criticism. Alex had enough power and money to influence most of them if it ever came to that.
There was a slight scraping of wood against the floor, and he recognized his father's confident stride. Anthony, The Duke of Riotan, stopped when he saw Alex sitting behind his huge mahogany desk, amidst a pile of ledgers and papers. He had heard about his abrupt arrival when the family had come back from a ball, but Alex had already retired to bed. The years away had brought a hardness to his son's features. Anthony was overwhelmed seeing a man sitting where a small boy had once played pretend. Anthony could feel his eyes mist up with emotion but he pushed it down.
"I didn't know you got up so early," he said, as Alex slowly stood up in greeting.
His son gave him a small smile, saying, "people get up early back in the states. It would've been stupid of me not to pick on as well. It's good to see you, Father."
Of course his father would expect him to be the unruly, self indulgent, and self entitled heir that he had been. It was actually Alex's maternal uncle that had made him pick on the habit. Uncle Wolfie had been on his feet at six in the morning, barging into Alex's room at seven.
He passed away four years ago because of Cardiac insufficiency, widowed and childless, he'd left his company to Alex in the will. Alex had been surprised, and overwhelmed since he'd spent only two years working for him. His uncle had taken that unruly, self entitled, angry, twenty year old and turned him into his own man.
After his death Alex had made it his goal to ensure that Riot Industries achieved the affluence that his uncle had dreamed of it having. He made up for his youthful inexperience with his quick mind, hard work, and sheer will.
The Duke took two steps and enveloped his son in a gruff hug "It's good to see you too, son." his father said, before releasing him. "You're back home after such a long time. I'm sure business matters can be set aside for a few weeks. God knows you work more than half the dandies your age."
Alex face betrayed no emotion just like those Greek statues, that Anthony's wife loved to ponder over. He had heard all about Alexander's accomplishments in America, he had doubled the family fortune with his investments and Riot industries turned generous profits yearly. The company was rumored to be one of wall street's most earning companies.
In Anthony's mind, Alex had still been the carefree youth with the relaxed demeanor and easy charm. Now as he scrutinized the cool stranger in front of him, he belatedly realized that he'd lost more than one son that summer.
Alex wasn't the only one under assessment, he took in his father's wiry frame, the deepened lines on his face, and felt a pang of nostalgia.
Anthony Riotan was a good man and a good father. Lively, hardworking, attentive. He'd taught Hunter and Alex everything; from how to fish, to shoot, to ride, to balance books, to dance. Maybe not the last bit but he had certainly tried.
Those memories made their strained relationship all the more hard to bear. He wanted to scream at his father.
You did this.
"Of course, unless you want to discuss the weather and the latest fashions, it wouldn't hurt to discuss business." Alex joked, trying to lighten their interaction.
The duke smiled but his shoulders were uncharacteristically tense and Alex waited from him to sit down before he did. He rang for breakfast and they exchanged pleasantries and small talk till Stilinski walked in, carrying a huge tray laden with food.
He visibly stiffened at seeing Alex. "My Lord. I wanted to apologize for last night. I was very much out of sorts- It's just of all the stories I've heard about you. They muddled my wits and--"
"I understand; however, I am not Hunter Riotan. And I hope in the future you'll have the good sense not to rely on the word of a drunk man or partake in woolgathering gossip for that matter." Alex said, cutting off his rambling.
If it was possible, Stilinski's eyes got even wider. If the man in front of him wasn't the lost son, Hunter Riotan, then he was the notorious heir: Alexander Riot Hale. Riot mused that the young man was deciding which bit of news was more exciting.
"Leave us." his father said in a light command and Stilinski left the tray, scurrying out.
"I was wondering why the servants were acting so odd. You should've set the young man straight last night. You know how they gossip; it will just add fuel to those outrageous stories about Hunter" Anthony scolded.
Alex took a sip of his black coffee, and nodded "I'll talk to Harry and he'll put an end to this nonsense."
Anthony put down the scone he was eating, dusting a few crumbs off his white shirt. "While we're on the topic of Hunter. I wanted to talk to you about this in person. I think that we should pronounce Hunter dead-" he rushed on before his resolve faltered "-It's been more than six years; our family needs to move on."
"Only if he's actually dead." Alex mentioned coolly.
His father gave a tired sigh, saying, "if he was, we would've known by now. I won't make a move publicly until Callie's married and settled. Till then the seven year mark will be up and we'll begin the legal proceeding."
Alex kept quiet, he didn't want to give his father false hope until he was sure the notes had been from Hunter, and not some sick fop playing a joke. He was going to meet up with one of his friends, Damon Reed, in the evening. Damon and Alex had been at Eton and then Cambridge together. There was no one that Alex trusted more. Damon was also one of the High Kings of England's underworld, his connections extended the borders; if anybody could figure out the mystery of Hunter Riotan, it was him. His father was right, they needed to move on, and this time when Alex went back to America, he wanted to leave his ghosts behind.
"I agree, but as you mentioned, Callie is our main concern for the moment. Tell me about the earl who offered for her hand." Alex inquired, casually, leaning back against the, richly upholstered sofa.
"Layton? He's a strapping young man; good family, good finances, and a good reputation. He's a year or two your senior, and I'm sure you'll like him as well. It's a good match."
Another man to discuss with Damon, the two of them rarely believed appearances; they were great example of how misleading they could be. "What about Callie? Does she think so too?" he questioned. Anthony give an enthusiastic nod "Very much, they have a mild acquaintance, she's the one who urged us to go ahead with the engagement even though we told her she could have another season."
Did Callie think herself in love with Layton? Was his father telling the truth or was she being browbeaten into a match? The sad truth was that Alex didn't have the slightest idea about the answers to those two questions. He didn't know his sister as well as he wished he did, but he wasn't going to let her force herself into a decision until he was sure it was truly what she wanted.
Five months later:
The chandeliers glittered overhead, bathing the ballroom in a warm, rosy, glow. Tear drop like crystals adorned the, intricate, swirls of the chandelier. Lea brought her gaze down from the chandeliers to the throngs of people around her. Men dressed mostly in somber black and provided a contrast to the vibrant gowns of the women. There was laughter, dancing, refreshments, but Lea stood among them like a distant observer. It was her friend, the Earl of Layton's, engagement ball. He was getting betrothed to Lady Calliope, the Duke of Riotan's youngest child.
Layton's elder sister, Sarah, attended the Girton College for Girls at Cambridge with Lea. Sarah had invited their whole group of bluestockings to the affair, and she didn't seem like the only one. The ballroom was a crush of people; the dancers barely had space to move. It was the season's opening ball, and hosted by the eldest son of the Riotan family who was rumored to come home after several years in colonies. Lea didn't know much about him except that every marriage seeking chit in the place was on her toes according to Rose, but she had been swept away by her mother before she could elaborate. The other girls of the Bluestockings group had been swept away by one person or the other, leaving Lea behind.
Those girls might've been frowned upon by society, but they did belong to it. She had been introduced to many people and all of them had treated her either with cold courtesy or avid fascination. People saw the idea of her rather than her, and she was exhausted by it. She loved the bluestockings, and she wouldn't ever exchange her decision to come to England for the world. They were inspiring, smart, brave, and they knew what it was like being the odd one in the bunch. However, sometimes, she just felt so lonely. The loneliness would creep on her as it did right now; the crowded ballroom went quiet, and her chest tightened like she couldn't breathe.
Lea went looking for Griffin.Lea would exchange pleasantries and then slip away, she doubted that any of her friends would notice in the stuffy ballroom. Lea was usually friendly, bubbly, with a goofy sense of humor but she had a strong introverted streak. She would take a walk, and get a hearty dinner from somewhere, there was only enough of those 'finger' sandwiches that she could devour before she started getting the looks.
When she found Griffin and his fiance, she smiled. They were standing amidst a random scatter of well wishers. Griffin looked happy, even if a bit high strung.The girl beside him was very pretty, dark rich blonde hair and creamy white skin with luminescent blue eyes. She was smiling that serene, dainty, smile that Lea could never pull off.
"Layton!" Lea called with a little wave, people eyed her with unconcealed interest. Thankfully, Griffin noticed her quickly. "Miss Lea," he said with a sunny smile "I'm glad you came."
"Of course I wouldn't miss your engagement, but I'm more interested in meeting your lovely fiance." Lea said, turning to the lady in question. The blonde eyed her shrewdly. "Lady Calliope, May I introduce to you: Miss Leanna Ambriz. She traveled from Spain to finish her education. She attends Girton College with Sarah: she's a very close friend of ours."
A few girls tittered at the information; Lea ignored them.
"A pleasure." Lady Calliope said, politely.
"Sending a daughter abroad to study? I didn't know the Spanish were so... open minded." A woman in a gaudy, green, dress commented. She referred to open minded as one referred to a poisonous cobra.
"Yes, where is your family? Are they living near you?" another from Lea's left questioned. Everybody's attention in the group riveted to her. "No, they're in Spain. I wanted a proper education, but there aren't any universities for women back home. Cambridge is a globally renowned university, and when Girton college offered me a scholarship, it seemed like an amazing opportunity. My family couldn't join me in England, but might be returning home in a few months. It's certainly hard staying away from my family, but at the end of the day it's a comfort knowing that I can find the courage to follow my dreams." She replied, as honestly as she could, refusing to feel embarrassed for something she was passionate about. "How are you liking England so far?" another asked. "Very well. England has been very welcoming" she said, "Lady Sarah and all the other girls have become like family to me". They hounded her with questions until she politely took her leave.
The butler handed her cloak to her, "Please walk down the staircase on the right, and it will lead you to the main foyer. A footman will be present there and he will help you to your carriage" He instructed like she hadn't just made the journey less than an hour ago. Another gorgeous chandelier hung above the foyer, there were two sets of curving stairs, the Riotan townhouse was larger and grander than most. She decided to visit the powder room before she went down contrary to what the Butler assumed she was going to take a walk back to the Layton's townhouse which was a few streets away. Lea impulsively took the only hallway that was on her left; it wasn't lit so she squinted in the moonlight filtering through the huge windows. The hallway whispered of a quiet extravagance; her steps were muted on the plush carpets beneath her feet. Beautiful landscapes lined the walls, and oriental lamps sat on gleaming rosewood tables.
A cool breeze rose and caused goosebumps to run up her arms, and a couple of steps later she found the source of it. A pair of glass doors were opened to reveal a vacant balcony bathed in silver moonlight, and like a moth attracted to a flame she walked through the balcony doors. Lea took a lungful of the night air as she leaned against the railing. The tightness in her lungs lessened a bit but not the tightness in her heart. She was terribly homesick, and the quaintness of her surroundings only made her miss the chaos in her house back home. Her brothers milling around in her room, her mother shouting orders to the maids in the mornings, going to the cinema with her father . One of her friends was getting married, but she couldn't afford trip back. Lea had tearfully written a letter back to her that she couldn't come.
Before she realized what she was doing, she wedged a foot in the metal work of the Balcony, her hands clutching the railing, and heaved herself up. It was dangerous, she knew, but that was precisely why she did it. Adrenaline pumped through her veins as she tipped her head down towards the darkened streets. The wind coursed through her hair and Lea closed her eyes to its melody.
Suddenly arms wrapped around her and for a moment she felt herself slipping before she was yanked back. A short scream escaped Lea's lips as she plastered herself to a warm body after landing on the balcony marble with a thud. Her arms were locked around a neck, breathing deeply in the crook of it. She could finally hear through the blood rushing in her head, "Are you okay?" a voice asked. The voice was deep, warm, and male. Lea gave a shaky nod, her cheek rubbing against his neck, breathing in his scent. She froze, eyes opening in horror, and pushed away from him "Why did you grab me?" she demanded. He looked at her as if she was crazy, and she belatedly realized why.
"I wasn't going to jump" she murmured. Lea saw the fury behind his dark eyes, hooded with thick lashes"The hell you weren't." he bit out. "I wasn't going to jump" she repeated, "I..I was thinking. Plus the fall wouldn't be enough to kill me" Lea added, matter of factly.
"Please do share your thoughts. I'm curious to know what you couldn't possibly contemplate here instead of teetering off the edge of a balcony." he said, his words dripping with sarcasm.
" Oh, it's a riveting thing called: None of your business." Lea replied, snarkily.
"My business? This is my house you decided to jump the balcony from, you demented woman." He roared. Lea dropped her scowl in confusion "You can't be" she said. He gave her smirk "Alexander Hale Riotan, heir to the Dukedom of Riotan, Marquees of Hale, Earl of Hartford, Baron of Wesley--"
"I'm not sure if that is your name or every person in England" she said, interrupting him before she could stop herself. They looked at each other from across the Balcony for a few moments. Lea saw his lips twitch, and before they could help it, they were both grinning at each other.
"Why aren't you at the ball? Aren't you the host?" she asked abruptly.
"Ah, I had a very common excuse called: None of your business." He said. Lea looked at him in silence before she broke out laughing; she couldn't help it.
"What's your name" he asked. She shook her head, amused, saying "I'm not telling you". He raised his eyebrows at her "You are rather odd". There was a strange wonderment in his tone. The man took a step closer, but Lea didn't move. Even though she wasn't used to men looming over her; she wasn't used to backing down either. She took another step closer just to make the fact clear, "Then you better hope I'm not contagious." She said, smiling.
It was something in her eyes, Riot reasoned, a unique twinkle, that had made him take her words with grave seriousness. He reluctantly moved to let her pass.
"I apologize for all the distress I might have caused you." Lea said. Alex stood with his back towards her, hands shoved in his pockets. "Don't apologize" he said, stoically.
"Consider it... forgotten."
"Thank you." Lea said, quietly, taking a step back into the shadows of the hall; her eyes riveted to his profile in the moonlight. She blinked a few times, a feeble attempt at capturing him in her memory. "You should return to the ball. I have heard you're quite popular among the girls. Good for you" she said, meaning it. She was strange that way.
"Is that so" he said, amusement lined his voice "What if they're the reason I'm hiding in this hallway?".
"I wouldn't be surprised" she answered "Their perfumes are strong enough to drug a horse". Alex choked on a laugh "Is that why you're here as well?" he asked.
Lea shook her head," I was about to leave. It seems criminal, honestly, being crushed in a ballroom among strangers on a night like this. I want to explore while I am here in London".
Alex didn't know what to make of the woman in front of him except that she made him laugh, and that he didn't want her to leave yet. He had been making his way back from the library, where he'd met with Damon for a private word. The latter had finally found a solid lead on Hunter. A man claimed that his employer matched Hunter's profile and the timeline of his disappearance. Alex had been doubtful, he had heard several similar claims over the years. Most of them just spun a story for a few coins, but Damon was adamant that this claim would hold true and his instincts were rarely ever wrong. In a few days they would have a name, and Alex was filled with anticipation.
He had almost missed the lone silhouette, standing beyond the balcony doors. Alex couldn't clearly discern her features except the basics that she was tall, full figured, with dark hair. He was about to leave, not wanting to intrude upon what he guessed was going to be a lover's rendezvous; he had already done that twice in one night. He was afraid his eyeballs were going to fall off if he had to witness another. Suddenly she had raised herself off the ground, her head tipped down like she going to take flight. Alex had moved with a quiet swiftness, yanking her to him before she made the leap.
Having her in his arms was something else entirely, her hair brushing against his chin, face hiding in the crook of his neck. Alex couldn't help but wrap his hands, protectively, around her but the embrace had been short. "What exploring can you at this time of the night? " he asked, lightly.
"Take a walk under the stars, swing on a swing, go to a lively tavern, and have a juicy steak, drink tea. Go dancing--" she stopped her rattling and with good reason. People would have been scandalized at her words, but Alex listened to her, enraptured, wanting for her to continue. "That's quite a list" he commented.
"I know" she said "which reminds me that it's time for me to leave. I apologize for all of this".
Her words jerked him out of this easy intimacy they shared. He had promised Callie a dance and his mother that he would act the perfect host.
"Do you want me to help you to your carriage?" he asked.
"No, thank you, I will be walking home. It's just a street away" she said, nonchalantly.
His polite facade fell abruptly at her words.
"Are you out of your mind?" he said, furious, "Do you have any idea how dangerous the London streets are. Let alone at night!"
If he had known Lea a little better he would have realized that harsh words wouldn't lead him anywhere with her. Even though she knew he was right she rarely liked people telling her what to do "I appreciate the concern, but I'm sure I can manage thirty paces " She replied. She wouldn't ever experience anything if she cowered back at every sign of danger, and she always took calculated risks. The Marquess moved like lightning, taking her arm in a vise like grip before she even blinked. He had her against the wall, both of his hands holding her flailing wrists. Lea fought, a sick feeling twisting her insides. Alex was unaffected by her struggling though he gave her credit for trying. One hand left to cover her mouth while he fit his body, tightly, against her. His nose lazily trailed the curve of her throat and she went limp under him. Good, it meant she was learning her lesson. He hated what he was doing, but nothing could teach you a lesson like fear did.
She had a tangy, fruity, smell, and that made him smile because it suited her perfectly. He couldn't stop himself from placing a soft kiss on her jaw before he moved onto her ear, "You can't even budge an inch let alone thirty paces." He whispered. The tone wasn't as mocking as he wanted it to be, but he felt her give a jerk with angry realization. He had enough light to see the curve of her chin, the slope of her nose, the soft fullness of her lips. He raised his gaze to meet her eyes, reflecting the moonlight under, short, spiky lashes.
"It won't help that you are pretty." He said, sounding disgusted.
Suffice to say he wasn't expecting the punch that him square on the face when he stepped back or the string of curses that followed.
Lea yelped in pain when her fist made contact with his cheekbone, served him right for scaring her like that. Alex recovered before she did, and when she saw him straighten to his full height, she gulped. One of his hands were still around her wrist. There were a million ways he could retaliate with ten times as much damage.
"Listen to me-" he said, silkily, "-I am taking you back to the ball and depositing you to the unfortunate soul that brought you here. There will be no more balcony escapes, and no dashes in the dark because I will be watching you. Leave my house and do whatever the hell you want because, frankly, I don't give a damn. Just don't do it in my vicinity. If there is a sane bone in your body you will do this with the utmost discretion. If not, it won't hurt me either way. I will keep my word and we can, blissfully, pretend that we didn't have the unfortunate incident of meeting. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"
"Crystal." she said, frostily. Alex dropped her wrist, picking up the cloak that was lying a few feet from him. She took it without a word, covering her shoulders and hair with the velvet cloak. "I'm not going back to the ball." she said, "I'll take a hackney back"
"You will be accompanied home in my sister's carriage, and by two of my footmen." He said with finality.
"Fine." She said with a nod.
"Fine." he repeated.
This woman had brought him down to the level of childish bickering; Good God, she was contagious. He turned and walked down the hallway without making sure if she kept up in the direction, but she did. Two lefts and another right later they stood in the entrance of a kitchen. It was a smaller kitchen in his own personal wing of the townhouse for when he entertained guests. The whole staff was in the main kitchen on the other side of the house, preparing a feast for the hundreds of guests that would be eating dinner. He pulled an icebox off a shelf, taking a clean handkerchief out of his black evening jacket and depositing a few ice cubes in it.
"Here. Press this against your knuckles."
Lea was, rudely, rummaging through a small pantry when she heard the Marquess's voice behind her. Lea gave her sheepish look, but he didn't say anything. She set aside the plate of frosted cake she found, taking the cold pouch with her throbbing hand. Because why not. She had been flexing it earlier and had decided to look at it when she got home.
"Thank you." She said, surprised that he had noticed and cared. Alex ushered her to a seat next to the table that held the cake. He could see her completely in the candlelight and he had been right in his previous assumption.
Light brown.
Her eyes were a beautiful light brown.
She wasn't English; he had already noticed her unique accent even though she spoke fluent English. Her skin was the color of creamy coffee with with wavy dark brown hair: Her face was a blotchy red, and there was a bit of black smudged under her eyes . She was wearing a ruby red dress that exposed her collarbone where a lone, small, diamond locket sat.
"Do you mind if I help myself to a piece?" she asked. She was still glaring at him, and he almost refused her out of petty anger. He got her the necessary utensils and sat across from her, "go ahead." He nodded.
She cut a piece and offered him one but he declined. She shrugged her shoulders and began eating, slowly, with her left hand. He took the ice pack and pressed it against the reddening knuckles of her right. They eyed each other, warily, and it wasn't a surprise seeing what the nature of their introduction had been. Lea still felt hot with embarrassment at what happened minutes ago so she pointedly ignored him. She reached inside her cloak and took out a pair of thin, black framed glasses.
The slightly blurry form of the man sitting in front of her finally focused into place. Lea blinked at him for a couple of seconds. He was good looking and she had suspected he would be after she saw his sister. Fair haired, but his skin wasn't pale white but a tanned golden. His accent had also been slightly different than the upper crust English, a reminder of his time in America. A smile spread across his lips, boyish, and self assured.
"Your cheek is getting a nasty shade of red" She said, smugly.
He swore, it would only get worse as the night progressed. Lea took the ice pack from him and looked at him in with a silent question. He nodded slightly, and she touched his cheekbone with it. Alex was startled at the gentle touch, "I deserve it. I apologize for the way I treated you." He said, "and the way I talked to you... I assure you I was raised better than that."
The way he had held her against the wall...Now as Alex thought back on it, he was filled with shame.
"So was I-" she admitted, giving him a laughing look "-but I suppose I never took heed". Her smile wasn't pretty but maniacal and goofy and highly infectious. Alex returned the ice pack to her, the pain barely registered and he heard footsteps outside the kitchen. "Alexander--" Harry said, appearing in the doorway. He had been seasoned enough not to show any expression at finding him alone with a woman. "The Duke and the Duchess are asking for you, my lord." He said.
"Harry, the lady here had her hand, accidentally, lodged in one of the doors." Alex said, tactfully, "I promised to have her escorted home. Prepare my sister's carriage and two of the men. Make sure she gets to her destination safely. And have it done discreetly." He added, meaningfully.
"Of course, My Lord" Harry replied, dutifully, but he raised his eyebrows at Alex as Lea picked up her things.
"And I'll return to the ballroom." Alex said, awkwardly, and to no one in particular. He waited for the girl to look at him again; he didn't even know her name for God sakes. Why didn't he bring it up in their conversation? She probably thought he'd recognize her. Now it seemed to late to ask without risking awkwardness. Harry noticed the odd silence between the two and said "I'll wait for you in the hall, my lady." After he left them alone, the silence stretched.
"I hope the pain in your hand isn't terrible" he said, finally breaking it.
Lea curled her hand feeling a slight sting, "I barely feel it. I sort of feel very proud of myself, but I'm very sorry you'll have to walk back in this condition" she said, sounding apologetic.
"No, you're not." he said.
She bit back a laugh, "No, I'm not." She agreed. She tore her gaze away from his crooked smile. He gave her a mock bow. "My lady." He said, before making his way to the door.
She watched him leave, her fists clenched and as his back disappeared from the doorway she found herself picking up her skirts.
"Alexander!" his name tore from her lips before she could stop them. Alex jerked in surprise at hearing his name, and turned around to find a flushed Lea gazing at him uncertainly. He didn't say anything as she took cautious steps towards him, he looked down to find a hand extended towards him. "Hello" she said, a faint smile playing on her lips, "My name is Leanna, but you can refer to me as Lea. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." He looked down at her hand again, and slowly saw his fingers close around it. His hands were warm and slightly calloused, she found herself lingering.
"The pleasure is all mine." He returned, courteously, even though she could see the humor in his eyes.
"My heartfelt congratulations on your sister's engagement" she said, "I wish you and your family all the happiness in the world"
"Thank you for your lovely wishes." He said, hearing the farewell in her words. Lea gave their clasped hands a firm shake.
"Until next time, My lord." He heard her say and then she was gone. Alex looked down to find her wrapped box in his arms, and the loss of her arresting warmth. He dismissed it then as a bit of unwarranted nostalgia.
He didn't know it then, but that would be the single most important handshake of his life.
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