"Lovers and Beloveds" chapter 2.5 is live

In which a dance may turn into something more pleasant:

Poking around the ballroom's edges, he peered into the many attached salons, small and large, excusing himself from one--"Terribly sorry, didn't know anyone was here," he said to the fumbling couple in the corner--until he came into a long, deserted corner; a swaying curtain hid an oddly angled spot. Two little black boot toes peeped from its hem, moving in time. Temmin watched, curious, until a curly head in a maid's cap peeked out, spotted Temmin, gave a tiny squeak, and retreated behind the curtain. Temmin followed into a wide, hidden service hall, and caught the retreating maid by the arm.

"I thought it was you," he smiled. "You're the maid I danced with, Dannikson, yes?" Gods, what a beautiful girl, as lovely as any he'd danced with that night--lovelier, her little form trim and straight in the severe black and white household livery, her lace cap crisp and its red ribbons dangling down to her waist. Her uncooperative hair looked ready to burst from the cap again. He wondered if she still smelled as good as she had the last time they met.

"I'm so very sorry, Your Highness," the girl said. She blushed, and her voice shook. "It's just I love dancing and they didn' need me at the moment, I just wanted to look--oh!" She put her hands over her mouth, and her wide hazel eyes filled with tears. "I shouldn' even be speakin to you! Oh, Mr Affton will send me packin!"

"Now, now, don't worry about that!" said Temmin. "Why does everyone seem to think I'll tell on them!" He dropped her arm, and pondered her for a moment. He wondered if he would ever get used to the staff quailing at the sight of him; he didn't care for it at all. "What's your name?" he coaxed.

"Dannikson, sir," she said, blinking hard.

"No, your first name."

"Arta?" she quavered.

"Arta? Are you not sure?"

"Of course I'm sure, sir," she laughed, flicking away a tear. "My name is Arta."

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