Come one come all! Time to Prep for the Ball!

Red carpet flooded the hallway licking the stone as the silk lead a trail into the welcoming doors of Formalities. Rose petals curled along the carpet creating an alluring charm, bringing the willing into her fantasy. This was her home, her sanctuary, a bliss reunion to all who yearned to take part in such festivities. This was her dream for a unified world, as lords and ladies bow and curtsey, loving themselves, loving all. A world of respect and dignity.

The carpet unrolled until the center of the dance floor. Margo wore a black buttoned down shirt. The sleeves forming a few inches below her shoulders as the sleeves were loose devouring her slender arms. The shirt ended above her knees as she wore a white corset above the shirt. Black ribbon laced her within, the ribbon tying in a small bow as the tails of the ribbon curled above her navel. Her perky breasts lifted as her thin line of cleavage hidden for modestly. Her ivory legs were covered whit a black flowing skirt. Her blonde hair was brushed as a ponytail was made. As it wrapped behind her right ear. Her mane rested along her shoulder, the curling strands flicking down her front.

Transparent clouds of almond surrounded Margo as the perfume splashed along her frame. Her lips were painted a soft pink as her porcelain cheeks blotted with rose hinted blush. Her back was facing the front door as her elbows were bent, fingers above her head as her pale eyes looked above. Hovering overhead were the circular tables as she organized the room. Each placing still, frozen as tables crossed paths as the traffic within the ceiling flowed. Chair scurried along the floor as they followed the movements of the tables, searching for the shadows, as if they were looking up at the bellies of the oak.

Her voice rang out as she called to the room as she spoke to the furniture. “My darlings quick in step, quick in pace. Tables within the center of the floor, a circle darlings not a square.” Margo smiled as she turned her head, staring at the chairs, in fear they scattered as the tables lowered. Margo puckered her plump lips taking pity on the chairs. “Halt” The tables waited to be instructed as Margo walked over to the chairs as they became wallflowers, trembling as the back of the chairs pressed against the wall.

As she walked her hips pivoted as her heels clicked along the floor. She lowered herself placing her hands on her knees as her eyes widened as the corners of her mouth curled up into a passionate smile. “Oh darlings, nothing shall happen, I am here. For you are in such importance to me. For without you, how can a maiden sit? How can a lord due his duty in pushing her towards the table? Be with me.” The chairs came out as one brave former tree moved behind Margo scooping her up as she sat.

Margo laughed as she tilted her head looking over the side of the chair. “My what use you have! See darling, see your promise!” Margo looked up at the posing tables as she blushed slightly. “Continue my darlings, lower yourselves, for a table and chair make such a fine pair, so adoring you both are as opposites attract. Huddle close for the time is near, take your places as the chairs are pushed into the edges of the table, the union complete as Margo found herself within the center circle.

Her seat facing the open door as her pale eyes waited for the possibilities. The tea kettle poured her a cup as she raised the cup in silent toasting. “A union indeed within the room, as for the ball lords and ladies unite, encouraging the sexes to follow their hearts, and enjoy the fomforts and guidance Margo would offer. Extending her hands to the other classes, wanting to give each class a duty as the masquerade would be a school affair in honor of all.

Her pale eyes locked onto the visitor as the beautiful maiden parted the doors entering Margo’s reality. Margo bowed her head as the woman curtsied before her. The professor of Formals watched the woman’s pose as she brought her hands to coil along the base of her tea cup as she took a long drink. Margo slowly lowered the cup as she listened to the adoring Lady Fair. “Lady Chevok it is an honor to be before you, gazing up at such a precious little flower. So beautiful as the petals of the first blooming white rose. So lovely to see you. Welcome to my home.”

Margo turned her head as she nodded her head to the chair for it to pull out for the other woman. “Forgive me milady for not having a Lord pull and push the chair for you, a woman should never do such an act, so please allow the chair to do it for you. Come sit with me as we share visions of the ball. I am delighted to hear you are moving forward with the telescopes, for a darkened sky to be quilted with stars. So romantic, as the students and teachers marvel at such a sight.”

She felt the passion of emotion surrounding the event. Her vision coming true. Margo reached for an empty cup as she plucked it from its saucer as she poured Lady Chevok some tea. Adding a few spoonfuls of sugar she twirled the spoon to blend the concoction. “Cinnamon and Ginger my dear.” Margo looked over the woman once more as Margo stared the other professor directly into her eyes. “So Milady does such a maiden have a Sir to lead her to count the stars?” Margo giggled as she winked playfully towards Lady Chevok.

The other scholar was warm and delightful, so pure as she dressed with grace. “A beautiful flower such as yourself shall have hundreds of admirers, pick only one Milady to uproot you, plucking you from being grounded, to carry you off with such delicate touch, to keep you safe, to keep you well. For a wilting flower is lost and distraught. Never allow another to make you feel that way. Always be in bloom milady.”

Margo enjoyed seeing others mingling, finding love. Finding each other. As souls intertwine creating a hybrid soul. So romantic, how romantic? Margo loved them all.

Oh yeah. I remember that I have to return this tray to her. So I better do this now. Vincent would nod slightly at this as a hand raise only to cup his chin. Thinking of where is the class that the Formalities teacher…teaches. “Now where?” He wander down the hallway inside the castle. Not only he’s going to formalities class to give the silver tray back to her, but Vincent can possibly help on the ball by selecting the music for the wondrous event. After all, he’s a talented musician after all and he’ll provide help, if necessary.

He comes into a halt as his almond orbs is slowly closed only to take a deep breath and exhale softly. Maybe he’s feeling a bit nervous about this. Sure, it is just a little meeting for introduction and provide help for the ball, but nervousness starts to kick in. It took the music professor a moment or two to calm himself and casually moving to the hallway.

His attire is basically the same attire that he wore when he’s at the classroom. Besides, it’s the appropriate taste of the Englishman. His creamy cotton fiber long-sleeve shirt that covers his lean muscular built. The shirt has a light frill on the upper chest as well as the light puff on those shoulders. Covering his creamy shirt is the vest of Cardinal red that fits all to snugly around his form. The vest has a tail that goes down to the lower thigh. Complementing that clothing is his darkish brown pants that also hangs down to his ankles. His shoes are of a brown leather loafers with black socks to compliment those shoes. Almond locks of hair seem to have been brushed before coming here.

He also carries his black violin case with him at all times along with the silver tray on his other hand. The musician continues to walking down the halls, remembering the directions that was on the flyer, till he gaze to the door for only a moment. He press his hand, that’s holding the violin case, against the door only to open. What he saw was a total amazement for this musician as he takes a couple of steps. “I don’t believe…” The oval-rimmed specs seems to slip right to the tip of his nose only to have his hand to push his glasses back close to his face. He cannot help, but be amazed by this. Inanimate object dancing about like a festival going about. To Vincent, it was sheer amazement to see this. It is as if the chairs and the table are moving in tempo and Lady Margo is the conductor.

A smile seems to show on his face of his for a slight second before return back and clearing his throat. Then, his almond orbs seems to gaze right at Lady Margo and one other right in the middle seeing that they are enjoying themselves. He closes his eyes only to take a deep breath and exhales softly, calming himself. Though both Lady Margo and the other graceful woman are exceptionally gorgeous in their attire to make him blush slightly on both of his cheeks. He looks at both of them and their attires. The word that comes into mind was,Stunning. Simply stunning. Still, he has to remain ever to vigilant. Vincent would calmly approach to the two of them in the middle.

It took only a moment for Vincent to kindly take a bow to two of these lovely ladies, then his attention turns to Lady Margo. “Tis nice to see you again, Margo is it?” His voice has the hint of a British accent, but its kind and yet, warm-hearted. “I really like what you did to your classroom. Top-notch work I say. Oh! I’m here to return this to you. My students and I seemed to be hungry and finished the cookies right away. They are delicious. That, and I humbly thank you for allowing me to taking part of the ball.” He would kindly give Margo the silver tray, if she would have it back. Almond orbs would look at the two stunning maidens as he would stand there like any gentleman would.

As another entered her eyes turned slowly. Smiling in return as Vincent approached. Returning the tray so prompt as he came forward her torso twisted looking directly at the man. Her voice a plush coo. Rich with grace. Her slender digits plucked the tray from his hand as the coat rack waddled forward, delicately pulling the tray out of Margo’s hands as she smiled in thank you for the noble deed. The coat rack extended its hook inquiring if Vincent would like the rack to take the violin case as well. The head of the coat rack lowered in stance as he faceless knob hovered eye level with the scholar. Margo giggled lightly at the action.

“Forgive him Lord Tanibaze, Rack tends to be a gentleman forgetting the boundaries between living and non. I never call him an inanimate object, he sours at the thought. Mind yourself Rack, give the Lord space please.” The coat rack moved a limb to wrap around Vincent’s shoulders posing with the man as if standing beside a prestigious colleague. The coat rack took a few steps back as the corners of her plump lips curled upward.

“Thank you milord for returning my belongings, it is appreciated that you came, much use of your talents would be adored. We have so much to discuss.” Margo turned her head to unoccupied seat as the chair pulled out before him. “May we have the privilege in enjoying your company?” Margo looked at Mary-Lynn and winked lightly at the Lady Fair. “This is Professor Chevok, a stunning woman who blooms as the brightest rose, all the flowers within the garden are envious of her charm.” Margo nodded at her name reassuring him of his correct assumption.

A tea cup turned upright as the kettle lifted off its post, like a guard in position the kettle fulfilled the pouring duty as the brew trickled, filling the brim of the empty cup. A spoon dove into the sugar bowl adding two sugars, the spoon dipped slowly into Vincent’s tea cup as the spoon danced mixing the concoction. The spoon shivered as it lifted sprinkling the remaining tea back into the pool. The spoon landed back in its own resting place as Margo raised her cup bowing her head to the Professor.

“Lady Chevok, this is Lord Tanibaze. Professor of the stars meet Professor of music.” Margo giggled warmly as she took a sip. Her eyes widened before the artist as she lowered her cup. Her head turning to the closet as the door slowly peeled open. “I have gifts for you milord!” Margo cleared her throat as a cello, flute, and harp glided out. The instruments carried their extensions as a bow and music stands followed. Surrounding Vincent as he sat Margo chanted her head as she looked into Vincent’s eyes.

“Milord, this is Cello, Flute, Harp, they are my own personal musicians. With Formalities I teach dancing, these are my finest professionals milord. If their services are required to accompany you in your own finest work it would be honor to mold them into your orchestra. I do hope you play for us at the ball. How lovely will it be to twirl at the guidance of your beautiful work.” Her voice was charming as she was thrilled to have two professors assisting in the preparation of the ball.

Steady, boy. It isn't the end of the world. Just a chance to make things right. Relax already. Celestine chided himself, trying to calm his nerves. Smartly dressed in his black pants, white shirt, green sweater and sporting a black jacket to up the level of formality. He had just come from the library and figured now was the time to be as formal and polite as he could get.

Celestine took a deep breath and released it, trying to will himself to remove the tense muscles in his neck. He quickly shifted his neck left and right, hearing some refreshing pops as the muscles came loose as did the tension in the neck alone. He sighed with temporary relief and finally entered those fateful doors.

Upon the first he saw happened to be Professor Margo to whom he gave a cheery smile and a new professor who seemed....artsy somehow. Something about the man gave a calm demeanor as one of the arts. Not just painting. He felt the air of music around the man. Perhaps he played the viola or related instrument. He always loved the sound it could create. He waved his hand rather informally and waved in the air, losing his sense of formal greetings.

"Professor Chevok. Pleasure to see you again! Oh, I did enjoy our last outing. I do hope you take us to enjoy perhaps a lunar eclipse in the future. I promise not to distract your students next time." The spoony librarian gave a small, informal bow full of humor and good memories. He turned to new character and gave a nod of his head. "Ahh. You seem familiar, but I don't think we've met. I'm Celestine Johan Ravnos. Local Librarian Extraordinaire. Pleasure to meet you."

As he waited for the mans introductions, he caught Margo's eyes. His own eyes widened and was quickly directed away from her. His head immediately came down out of embarrassment, and he gave a small smile out of kindness to the other man, finding the spot behind him most interesting though it gave the impression of being rapt at attention.

As the tray is plucked from Vincent’s hand, his attention turns to the coat rack next to him. His attention turns to the hook that the rack extended. Then Margo explained to him that Rack tends to be a gentleman. “Ah. I see.” A smile seems to show against his lips as a humble laugh escapes from it. His attention went to the Rack, as it wrap its limb against his shoulder to posing with him as a prestigious colleague.

“Wow! That was…insightful… Anyway, the violin case stays with me, but thank you though.” He was at the loss of words as he cannot help but to be amazed by the coat rack. It probably has to do with the amount of magic that’s going on around here. Almond orbs gaze over to the one named Lady Chevok. A kind smile seems to show against his lips as he sees her white gloved hand extend out.

Should I be a gentleman and kiss her hand? No, that would be too forward for me. Maybe a simple handshake would suffice. He takes a deep breath and exhales softly. He extends his hand and gently attempts wraps his digits around her gloved hand only for a light handshake. Her gloved is as smooth as silk. “A pleasure to meet you as well Lady Chevok, Professor of the stars and Lady Margo is correct that you are quite a stunning woman. A sight to behold!”

Soon, his fingers moves from her gloved hand only to turn his attention over to Lady Margo, “I would love to.” Remaining ever vigilant, he sees the unoccupied chair before him. “Ah! Well, thank you.” A nervous chuckle is made as he is speaking to the chair. Sitting down comfortably and adjusting himself, he placed the black violin case against his lap. ”Indeed. You said that you wanted my talents?“ To think that Lady Margo needed his musical talents, but he wonders what for. Oh! That’s right for the ball that she’s preparing. His attention turns to the works of pouring tea.

Amazing. Simply amazing. With that smile still showing, he’d take hold of the teacup filled with tea that Lady Margo is holding. A bow from his head is made, “Thank you so kindly.” As Vincent takes a small sip from the cup. His gaze goes over to Lady Margo saying that she has gift for this talented musician.

A brow is raised ever so slightly, “Gifts?” Just as Vincent is about to continue on, those almond orbs saw a cello, flute, and harp surrounding the musician. Then, he sees a bow and music stand and realized that Lady Margo wants to mold them into his orchestra. Vincent gently place the teacup against the empty coaster as he picks up the violin case and place it beside him. A hand is placed against his chin only to ponder some thought into it. Still, the gaze moves at each of the instruments before him, inspecting them.

“An orchestra you say.” The words was fleeting like snow as Vincent moves to the music stand, “An orchestra is an orchestra. A symphony is a symphony. I’ve…haven’t done any orchestra as a conductor, but I have been in a couple of them.”

Once he reached towards the music stand, "Music is my talent. It is something that I’ve excelled at. To mold these three finest professionals takes times, effort, and dedication. To think that a charming women such as Lady Margo has asked me to conduct an orchestra.” His attentions turns to Lady Margo and Lady Chevok with a kindly bow against his waist. “It would be a honor to make an orchestra. That, and I’ll will also play for all of you at the ball. Possibly a solo piece from the professor of music. I will not let you down, and I’ll do my best to make an orchestra with such elegant and grace.”

His attention turns to the kind man wearing clothes of formality. He says that he’s familiar to the musician, so he’d move close to the man, who name is Celestine. “Pleasure to meet you Celestine Ravnos, and I don’t think I seen you from somewhere. Oh well. My name is Vincent Tanibaze, Professor of music.” A hand would kind extend forward to see if Celestine would accept the handshake or not.

Margo rested her chin modestly within her shoulder. Burying the lower portion of her lips as she listened to Mary-Lynn. A slender hand moved to press along her chest lightly shocked by such question. “Oh my Ladyship I feel such a question makes me melt! I am Cupid, using a harp instead of a bow. Striking the cords of charming lullabies to lay a beating still. For when you love, you are living, no other signs of symptoms of life is needed to assure you. What a beautiful thought, to love someone so much you wish them to love you for life! To say such a morbid thing as I shall love you to death is rather cruel, than what my adoring lady? What does come next after death? Is there love?”

Margo puckered her lips as she turned her head, removing the bashful play as she became direct. “Cupid is never met to love my darling scholar! Cupid is off to grant others the gift of love. I do wish you love, for all your life my darling flower, for to wish you to love until death, I grow mournful of the phrase.” She moved her hands to lightly glide along Mary’s hand. Margo was coaxing the woman with sympathy. As Vincent took his seat Margo looked at him as the instruments came forward. She sighed heavily as she watched the Musician.

“Lord Vincent I do hope you forgive us ladies for chatting away with such words. I do yearn that your own poetic tolerance was able to be spared for just another moment. I become conflicted with the world, with the race for courtship, marriage, all questing for that Ever After! I long for all to love, however long the length of it is not mine to thread, for even the greatest of seamstresses press firmly along the silk to iron out the wrinkles, yet once the gown is made, once it is worn, it shall be in fact wrinkled again. Does the seamstress than have to iron the product once more? Surely the redundancy causes such plague! Love is an epidemic, no magic serum can grant one such separation. For you cannot live without love, if so, you are never truly living.”

Margo paused her words as Celestine entered. Margo’s chest rose and fell quickly as she smiled at the man. Her mind at a standstill as she distracted her cheeks from turning red. A lady must only blush when confronted. Celestine would cause hers cheeks to blot with anger not of embarrassment. Margo won their battle, however the war was far from over, he carried with him no armor nor shield. He seemed awkward as he moved towards the group to introduce himself. Margo poured another cup of tea as she extended the cup for the Librarian.

“Good day Milord, The Keeper of Books, I do hope you have been well. Come join us as Lord Vincent, and Lady Mary-Lynn are advisors for the Masquerade. Now before we talk of songs and stars, I feel that we must come up with a theme. I feel as thought a theme worth fitting should be Hidden Love. Let us imagine, the sky so dark, the twinkling stars create a halo over our heads, candles are lit, a pathway of roses! Each Lady Fair wearing a mask, each Lord claims he is in fact Lord of the Dance, where the quiet one eyes the snoot. A prince with a peasant! So many to chose, so many to love! Now my Advisors, Members of the Court! Speak up what have you to say? At the strike of Midnight, masks pull apart, seeing the truth behind the distraction! Love is blind! Love is a fool! Let us love foolishly, blindly, so simply.”

Passion lingering within the air as Margo spoke. Words tugging along each ear, whispering with determined temptation. Margo rose her tea cup as she bowed her head lightly. Her lips curling into a smile before taking a long sip. Her eyes looking at each before her.

Celestine nodded and silently took the cup from Margo with his left hand. Barely allowing his eyes to meet hers to show some thanks.

Celestine kindly took the the musicians hand in a firm, but not overbearing handshake. He didn't want to attempt to show any harm to the man's hands knowing how important they were to the musician. It is a pleasure to meet you Vincient. I do hope to hear you play sometime.

He turned back to Margo and pondered the request. A theme? Hidden love huh. Well, Celestine hadn't loved in quite some time so a part of him felt unsure if such a theme was appropriate. Still, he was impressed with the image Margo painted with words. It tugged his heart and again he looked away. Still, he was not to stay silent. "Hidden Love Under Moonlight," Celestine suggested without thinking. He quickly took a sip of the tea, enjoying the taste as he once did before elaborating. "Love is blind and also a fool. One that is crazed more-so by the light of the full moon in 'membrance of stolen kisses and silent moments. Of passionate embraces and solemn promises." Celestine nibbled upon his lower lip, wondering what the response might be.

A nod comes his way, “I’ll be sure to make a performance for the ball and it’s a pleasure to meet you once again.” His hand kindly moves from his, knowing from the fact that these hands make music all the same. His attention turns to both Lady Margo and Lady Chevok as Vincent returns to his seat in a kindly matter. Those almond orbs turns his attention to Lady Margo and those words of love. Those words seems so true to the musician’s ear as he cannot help but to feel giddy all inside.

Though, he knows about love from reading books and watching the tele about it, he hadn’t felt the burning desire to love someone that was dear to him. A hand reach towards his teacup, gently picking it up as it reach towards his lips only to take a light sip from the teacup. As he took a sip, he kindly listens to a theme worthy for this grand ball. Hidden Love. Love that’s hidden beneath the mean where a Lord and a Lady go hand in hand to dance the night away.

It is as if from the fairy tale. A lovely tale of lovers dance about with no idea of one another. Such a splendid idea for the theme of the dance. Almond orbs gaze at Lord Ravnos and Lady Chevok while clearly listening to their suggestion of the Hidden Love theme which both of them are simply intriguing to say at least. Still, their suggestion for this is admirable to adore. Vincent’s mind wanders a bit only to imagine what is it to be loved. After reading much books about it, he came to the understanding of what love means.

“I say, I have to agree with Sir Ravnos. Love is such a grandiose word. Love can take many forms and as Sir Ravnos put it. Love is blind and a fool.” He puts the teacup right back to the coaster gently while continuing, “A ball where the lord and the lady are hand in hand. The lady fair with their mask to hide their faces as well as their lords. Dancing the night away as if they were in a dream. A dream filled with love and passion. Then, at the stroke of midnight, the truth comes out as their masks are removed to reveal their faces as their eyes gaze underneath the moonlit glow. In retrospect, I agree with both Lady Chevok and Sir Ravnos." Exhaling softly from saying his peace as Vincent would leans himself back on the chair and carefully looks at the three of them.

Fingers laced along her lap, fingers tangling. Silk digits grinding along the knuckles as she looked at the door. Her eyes widened as if in a trance of absorption as she listened to each bell, ringing their piece, granting all admirers the essence of tranquil thought, words became action as they described a verse, spoken with compassion, spoken with unified acceptance. How quaint the masters plotted their battle plan, marking the pieces along the grid.

Her chest rose and fell as she listened in silence. Her neck slowly twisted in direction of the chamber members as she smiled, the corners of her lips almost drowning with delight. She whispered to each as she commended their brilliance. “May the ship of concept leave the harbor of process as we have achieved a step within the plan. Crusaders of Love my darlings! Devoted Poets of the Arts! The ship carries us onward to our destiny, sailing for that night of bliss. To love the meaning of love my darlings, we shall expose it! Love not Lust! Glory not loss! For darlings we are the Makers of Love, we are the founders of this paradise.”

Margo unpeeled her hands as she placed a hand along her chest while the other, twisted at her wrist as the chair pulled out allowing the scholar to get up. She walked around the table, gliding as she went back to looking at the door. Speaking to her guests. She stopped before Vincent as she kneeled down. Her chin resting along his shoulder as her head chanted as she leaned on him. Calling to him for his inspiration. Declaring the three Crusaders saviors.

“ I thank thee Conductor, for leaving his mark, rising his wand as his guidance instructed the harmonious plucking of passion and of love. So confident as he raises his weapon to defeat the embers of lust. Fire and brimstone would melt the soul as the conductor chills the air, silencing the cruel with his dignity. I Knight you The Creator of the Ears! For with your sound, we will hear your love.” Margo turned her gaze as she winked at Vincent before pulling away.

Margo stood back up as she walked over to Lady Chevok. “I thank thee Navigator, for using the stars to plot the coordinates of love, the stars sparkling as she speaks for the silence of the night, turning the blackened sky, so numb and out of reach. Feminine hands brushing the air, combing through the sky. The Lady Fair and all her marvels align the stars like lanterns guiding those to love. I Knight you The Visionary of Eyes! With your ability to see the world and all that is around us, we see the love within this world, we see what you love.” Margo placed her lips along Mary-Lynn’s cheek kissing the woman softly.

“For with your eyes you are blinded by your perfection Milady, for all others can nod for they see what I see and what you do not my Navigator. Trust others for you are so pure.”

Margo walked towards Celestine as she rejected the past nights quarrel. As she stopped before him she knelt beside him. She placed her elbows along the arm of his chair as she used her palms as support as she cradled her chin within her arms.

I thank thee, the Scribe, reading the reflections off of parchment. As the papers describe the meaning of love. So romantic as we fantasize. As you are the middle between the Navigator and Conductor. With their ears, with their eyes, we can feel and know the truth behind the written words. I Knight you the Historian of Love. Through your knowledge and wisdom you can reassure that the feeling of love is not foreign, but adored by all.”

Margo slowly pulled away as she took her seat once more. “For a night of masked love, for a familiar strangers embrace, for the joy of the night, as chemistry ignites. Love is not blind my darlings, for we see it, we have the Navigator on our side. Love is not lust for we have the Historian who can separate by definition of the two. Love is not forceful it is harmonious and soft, just as the music that aids in a lover’s dance. A courting shall begin my darlings, as we are the court, the crew on our ship the masked students as they travel to a new world with a new outlook for a better tomorrow.”

Margo smiled as she took a long slow sip of tea.

Celestine enjoyed the atmosphere after walking in. It was most enjoyable and unexpected. He suddenly felt relaxed. He felt empowered as well being approved by his peers. An idea which had suddenly came to him without forethought or mental prelude. He felt hot under the praise and blushed for it despite his general calm.

The ball was being built from the ground up. The music was being planned by Professor Vincent. Professor Chevok would probably plot the art behind it given her love for the stars. He, what could Celestine also contribute. Books? Knowledge? He had known love once, and it was the monster before he who took it away. The act that turned him into the monster to further hunt.

His mind was brought back to reality Margo's presence before him. She had a way about her. Somehow she made herself known in a room without words. Suddenly, he was labeled a scribe. Nights before, it was Knight and once again Knight following. Historian of Love? Seriously? It had been forever since he loved. He sipped his own tea and wondered. This woman wanted to start a courtship? This was starting to be confusing. He kept quiet and listened.