Chapter 150: Sunday afternoon tea VII

Chapter 150: Chapter 150: Sunday afternoon tea VII

(Damian POV)

The afternoon passed far more quickly than Damian had expected.

One conversation became another.

One table became the next.

Some discussions were lively.

Others thoughtful.

A few were unexpectedly amusing.

By the fourth round...

Even Leon and Matthew had stopped lamenting their unfortunate rotation group.

Instead...

The two younger gentlemen seemed determined to enjoy themselves despite the overwhelming competition seated beside them.

Christopher remained effortlessly approachable as ever.

Damian found himself relaxing into the rhythm of the afternoon.

Perhaps...

Coming here really had been the right decision.

The strange dream from that morning had gradually faded into the background.

Or so he believed.

Every now and then...

His thoughts still drifted toward a certain young lady in an ivory dress.

Each time...

He quietly reminded himself to stop.

She was simply another student attending the event.

Nothing more.

The bright chime of the brass bell echoed once again.

The fifth round had ended.

The gentlemen rose from their chairs before making their way toward the final table listed on their rotation.

Christopher led the way.

Leon and Matthew followed closely behind.

Damian walked a pace behind the three of them.

The hall buzzed with movement.

Gentlemen crossed between tables while ladies remained in their seats, waiting for the final group to arrive.

Absentmindedly...

Damian allowed his gaze to wander.

Then—

His footsteps slowed.

Several tables ahead...

A familiar ivory dress caught his eye.

Lady Beaumont.

His heart gave an inexplicable jolt.

Almost immediately...

He looked away.

No.

He wasn’t doing this again.

Then another thought struck him.

Which table...

Almost despite himself...

His eyes drifted toward the small number standing neatly at its center.

Twenty-Three.

He frowned.

Without thinking...

He lowered his gaze to the ivory token still resting in his hand.

The sequence printed beneath his table number caught his eye.

...

23

For a brief moment...

He simply stared.

Of all the tables...

...

Seriously?

He let out the faintest breath through his nose.

So much for trying not to think about Lady Beaumont.

Fate, it seemed...

Had other ideas.

By the time he looked up again...

Christopher, Leon, and Matthew were already nearing the table.

Leon smiled apologetically toward the ladies.

"Excuse us."

Almost instinctively...

He slipped into the empty chair beside Vivienne.

Matthew laughed.

"Don’t mind if I do."

He claimed the seat on her other side.

Christopher arrived a heartbeat later.

Only then...

Did he properly look toward the ladies.

His composed expression shifted almost imperceptibly.

Lady Beaumont?

Anthony’s fiancée...

Here?

The thought lingered only briefly before he quietly pulled out the remaining chair beside Rebecca.

Interesting.

Meanwhile...

Damian was the last to arrive.

He rested one hand lightly against the back of the final chair.

For a moment...

Vivienne was still speaking with Leon beside her.

Then...

Almost as though sensing another presence...

She turned.

Her eyes lifted.

And met his.

For one perfectly suspended heartbeat...

Neither of them moved.

Then...

Recognition blossomed across Vivienne’s face.

Followed almost immediately by unmistakable amusement.

The corners of her lips curved upward.

She quickly raised one hand to cover them.

Trying—

Quite unsuccessfully—

To hide the laughter dancing in her eyes.

Damian stared.

That expression...

Again.

Exactly the same mischievous smile.

Exactly the same sparkling eyes.

Exactly the same look she’d worn while teasing him in the dream that morning.

His grip tightened almost imperceptibly around the back of the chair.

...Why?

Vivienne lowered her gaze for only a moment.

Still smiling to herself.

She really was trying not to laugh.

Which...

For reasons Damian could not begin to understand...

Somehow made the situation even more awkward.

Slowly...

He pulled out the chair.

And took his seat.

--

(Group POV)

For a brief moment...

No one spoke.

The final group had finally gathered.

Eight students.

One final round.

Leon looked around the table before breaking the silence with an easy smile.

"Well..."

"I suppose we’ve reached the finish line."

Matthew chuckled.

"I didn’t think we’d make it."

"You were ready to surrender after the first table," Christopher observed lightly.

"I was."

Matthew admitted without shame.

He gestured toward Damian and Christopher.

"I maintain that I had perfectly reasonable grounds."

Leon nodded solemnly.

"We’ve spent the entire afternoon competing against these two."

"I’m still waiting for the Student Union to apologize."

Laughter rippled gently around the table.

Even Mary couldn’t help smiling.

"I think you both survived rather well."

"Barely," Leon replied.

"I’ll be requesting emotional compensation later."

Another round of laughter followed.

The easy exchange quietly dissolved the last traces of awkwardness lingering around the table.

Christopher glanced around the group.

"Since this is our first—and unfortunately only—conversation together..."

He smiled.

"Perhaps introductions are in order."

Everyone nodded.

Leon went first.

"Leon Hart."

"Third-year Business Administration."

Matthew followed.

"Matthew Collins."

"Third-year Economics."

Christopher inclined his head politely.

"Christopher Archibald."

"Fourth-year Political Governance."

"It’s a pleasure to meet all of you."

Finally...

Damian spoke.

"Damian Blackwood."

"Also fourth-year Political Governance."

His introduction remained as brief as ever.

The gentlemen turned toward the ladies.

Janella smiled warmly.

"I’m Janella Jones."

"Second-year Communications."

Mary followed.

"Mary Johnson."

"Third-year Biology."

Rebecca lifted her chin ever so slightly.

"Rebecca Adelaide von Ersteria."

"Crown Princess of Ersteria."

"First-year Foundation."

Finally...

Vivienne smiled.

"I’m Vivienne Beaumont."

"Also a first-year Foundation student."

The introductions concluded as naturally as they had at every other table that afternoon.

Yet somehow...

This one felt different.

Across the table...

Rebecca’s mood had improved considerably.

Only moments earlier...

Watching Leon and Matthew once again choose the seats beside Vivienne first had reignited the quiet frustration she had spent the afternoon suppressing.

Now...

That hardly seemed to matter.

Christopher Archibald sat on one side.

Damian Blackwood on the other.

If there were two gentlemen nearly every young lady at Saint Albion knew by name...

They were seated beside her.

Perhaps...

The final round had decided to reward her after all.

Across the table...

Vivienne reached for her teacup.

The smile threatening to return still lingered stubbornly at the corners of her lips.

She dared one brief glance toward Damian.

He was already looking anywhere except at her.

The sight nearly made her laugh again.

She lowered her eyes at once.

Behave yourself.

The silent reminder did very little to help.

Damian, meanwhile, became acutely aware of just how difficult it was to avoid looking directly across the table.

Not because Lady Beaumont was doing anything improper.

Quite the opposite.

She looked perfectly composed.

Which somehow made the unmistakable amusement hiding in her eyes even more dangerous.

He reached for his teacup instead.

Perhaps...

If he concentrated very hard on the tea...

The next fifteen minutes might pass without further incident.