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Chapter Text

The town of Aldercombe, Somersetshire, 1816

It was set to be a thrilling start to the social season tonight, at the Repington Ball. The Sirs Simon and Frederick Repington were a middle aged couple, and one of the wealthiest families in Aldercombe, who loved nothing more than a good ball. Their reputation for the first ball of the season was well-earnt and eagerly anticipated annually, always leading the way in every social season at the start of the year. For them, their eldest son, Levi, was entering society tonight for the first time as a young 17 year old bachelor.

Members of society in this country were allowed the freedom to dance, court, and marry people of any gender they chose. There was no need for sexual discrimination in the modern age of 1816 (let us not talk of class discrimination, however). 

Even so, tonight was the talk of the town for another reason. 

The Viscount Edgeworth and Countess Von Karma had come to stay in Aldercombe for the season. 

Aldercombe, was a lovely village in Somersetshire about two days' carriage-ride north east of Bath. Houses made of yellow Cotswold stone scattered about picturesque tree-lined walkways. The main roads into town had previously attracted many a crowd travelling in and out of Bath, which enabled a number of families of various classes to establish estates around the village. The quiet Hazelbank River wove its way around the edge of the village, providing an ample source for fishing, and Laurel Row, a wide path lined with a mixture of birch, ash, and oak trees, was a favourite place for society to promenade. 

It was the most perfect corner of the habitable world, if you asked Phoenix Wright. 

“Phoenix! Phoenix!” 

The Baroness Maya Fey called out, striding into his drawing room early that afternoon, at the annoyance of his housekeeper, Mrs Stone. Only twenty years old, the young baroness’ purple muslin dress swished with every step, her perfectly curled and pinned black hair adorned with a purple ribbon bounced ever so slightly with the excitement.

“Have you heard the news? The Viscount Edgeworth and Countess Von Karma are attending the Repington ball tonight!” The baroness squealed excitedly - which would have been unbecoming of her in any high society, but this was her neighbour, Phoenix, who merely smiled as he bowed in welcome.

“My Lady, I cannot say I am surprised at your knowing of the news already,” He laughed, “It will be… interesting to lay eyes on them.”

Interesting, indeed, for Phoenix had not seen the viscount since they were boys. 

“Lay eyes on them?” Maya scoffed, “Naturally, we’ll be making their acquaintance - even if you have already met the viscount in your youth.”

Phoenix scratched his chin, “Yes, well, we’ll see if the viscount remembers himself. I scarce think that anyone else has remembered him, with all this talk of the viscount, ” The baroness rolled her eyes with a smile at Phoenix’s dramatic pronunciation. 

Hoping to talk of anything else, he asked, “How was your walk over?”

“Stop trying to change the topic - you know Elmridge Lane is beautiful, as always.” She grinned, bemused. 

Baroness Fey never had any complaints about the nature that surrounded her estate, Fey Manor. As Baroness, the land and title were hers alone, passed through the female line. Her Japanese ancestor, the Lady Ami Fey, had been of great service to an old king, who gifted the title and land to her lineage. Behind Fey Manor were walks through old, large trees, and parts of the Hazelbank River, and on one side of the manor lay Elmridge Lane which separated Fey Manor from its neighbouring estate - Elmridge House, where the Wright family estate was. 

A smaller estate, the Wrights were not so rich to have a title or a lot of land, but were fortunate enough to have geographical and social connection with the Fey family. Originally merchants, the Wright name had slowly worked its way through the ranks of society over time. His parents had borne the fruit of their hard work, with Phoenix enjoying the privilege of entering society in his youth as a personal friend to the Baroness Mia and eventually the Lady Maya Fey. 

“Anyways, I hear that they’re living in Highcroft for the season, so we will be neighbours.” Maya said excitedly. Highcroft was only a three mile walk from Fey Manor and Elmridge House. Phoenix sighed, conceding that the topic of conversation was not going to change, and couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm - the baroness was always fond of gossip and new faces. 

“Alright then, what do you think the viscount and countess will think of Maplehollow?” Phoenix entertained Maya’s love for gossip, “A countess may not lower herself to our level in humble Aldercombe.”

“Oh, nonsense,” Maya waved him off, “The Repington’s estate is nearly as nice as Fey Manor, which is, in my humble opinion, just as beautiful as Highcroft itself. It’s certainly as old as Highcroft.”

“If you say so, my lady.” Phoenix smiled.

“The carriage will be around at 8, don’t be late! I want to be at Maplehollow before the viscount and countess arrive tonight.” And with a swish, she strutted out of the drawing room.

***

Balls were, in Phoenix’s opinion, one of the best ways to spend his time. There was nothing quite like hearing the swell of the music. A jaunty tune always made Phoenix’s feet itch to move, and he often spent most of every ball dancing with anyone who would ask for his hand. The Baroness was always on his dance card, but he didn’t mind dancing with ladies and gentlemen aplenty. He had donned his best blue tailcoat for the night, his usual black waistcoat underneath and a red bow tie at his neck.

The baroness’ plan to arrive before the viscount and countess was smart, because by the end of the second dance Phoenix had quite forgotten that they were to make an appearance until the music suddenly quietened and whispers filled every corner.

“Is that them?” Miss Augusta Hollingsworth, his partner for the completed second dance, whispered over to Phoenix. 

Phoenix craned his neck to look across the room at the two visitors who stood at the polished wooden doors. 

The Viscount Miles Edgeworth looked almost exactly as Phoenix had remembered him. Greyish hair framed his forehead. He wore a fine, burgundy, jacket over a black waistcoat, with a starched, pristine, white, cravat to complete the look. 

He was, really, quite stunning - the memory of his childish appearance now transformed in front of him into a, if not the , most handsome gentleman that Phoenix had ever laid eyes on.

On his arm must have been the Countess Franziska Von Karma.

She was beautiful in a way that Phoenix could easily acknowledge but never quite appreciate, his eye always being drawn more to the male figure. Nonetheless, she was striking in a powder-blue striped silk satin dress, delicate puffed sleeves with white satin elbow-length gloves and a small feather adorned in her curled, grey-blue hair. Elegant, classy, tasteful - befitting of a countess. 

Phoenix looked over at Maya. Ever the face of fashion in Aldercombe, the baroness wore a fine dress of Japanese purple silk, a matching Japanese fan in her lavender silk gloves with jade beads adorning her black hair. The baroness’ dark eyes studied the countess alone, but Phoenix could not say the same for the countess - she seemed to study the room with harsh discernment. He did not find it likely that many would survive her apparent judgement. 

***

Miles Edgeworth hated walking into a crowded room. Unfortunately, since moving north after his father’s death 17 years prior and his recent elevation to Viscount, he always drew the gaze of most people upon his entry. At six-and-twenty, he had hoped the feeling would become easier, alas, it did not. 

At least he had his ‘sister’ with him, who could hopefully draw more attention. She had not always been his sister, but in living with the Von Karma family in Ashwick Hall up north near Carlisle in Cumberland, she had practically become family. As the new Countess after her father’s recent passing and 6 years his junior, Franziska was purely focused on finding herself a marriageable candidate - husband or wife, in order to produce heirs to continue the Von Karma name.

At her insistence she had dragged Miles, to Aldercombe of all places, in search of the perfect future husband or wife. Miles reluctantly obliged her, letting them stay at his estate of Highcroft. Unfortunately, that meant being dragged along to social events with Franziska. If he absolutely had to socialise, then he would find a way to be pleasantly distracted. 

Sir Frederick Repington greeted the two of them fondly.

“My Lord Edgeworth, My Lady Von Karma, allow me to introduce myself, I am Sir Frederick Repington.” He bowed respectfully and they bowed (or curtsied in Franziska’s case) in return, “I welcome you to my humble estate of Maplehollow, and to our ball, the first event of the season here in Aldercombe.”

Though they nodded along with the introduction, Miles knew Franziska was studying most of the faces that beheld her.

“Thank you, Sir Repington.” Miles replied. 

And with that, the music resumed, the dancing continued, and the large room was lively as it had been a moment ago.

With a firm grip on his elbow, Franziska paraded the two of them around the large room. Miles was sure she was practically preening, enjoying the attention of those in the room, most of whom were quite frankly below her station. By the time they had completed their circle around the room, there was a veritable swarm of ladies and gentlemen vying for an introduction. Thankfully, the majority were for Franziska, as the resident, and only, countess. 

“Sir Thomas Hollingsworth,” Sir Simon Repington introduced an elderly man to Edgeworth and Franziska.

Sir Hollingsworth bowed to the pair of them, before talking to Miles, “Forgive me, sire, but are you perchance a relative of the late Sir Gregory Edgeworth?” His weak voice wheezed slightly.

“Yes, sir,” Miles nodded, “He was my father.”

“And you return, a Viscount,” There was a hint of awe in Sir Thomas’ wheezy voice.

“Yes, sir, the Count Von Karma enabled my elevated status.”

Sir Thomas smiled, “Then it is a pleasure to see you both elevated and back home, in Highcroft, My Lord.” He bowed his leave. 

Miles did his best to hide his grimace. Highcroft was… well, technically it was home, and a grand one at that - considering that his father was only knighted - but being ‘home’ often haunted Miles with memories of his parents. His mother who died of an illness, his father from being thrown off, and kicked by, a horse. The less time spent even remotely near the north wing, which housed his parent’s bedroom and his father’s study, the better. Hence him standing here, with Franziska, being introduced to what looked like everyone in society as more and more people crowded along the side of the room. He would bear it patiently, otherwise there would be no end of complaints from Franziska at the conclusion of the night. 

Quite quickly, a most familiar face presented in front of him, rather unexpectedly.

“Mr Phoenix Wright, and Baroness Maya Fey.” Sir Simon introduced with a warm smile, as the pair bowed/curtsied in respect and Miles and Franziska returned the gesture. 

“My Lady Von Karma,” Maya greeted warmly, “I hope you had a pleasant trip from Carlisle. Is this your first time to Somersetshire?”

Equally pleasant, the countess replied, “I have visited Bath on many an occasion, but have never had the opportunity to visit the… pleasant countryside.”

Though the pause was pointed, Maya smiled regardless, “Well, I hope you enjoy your season. We are all rather fond of a good ball or promenade here in Aldercombe, so I hope you will find entertainment and lively conversation befitting of your… tastes.”

Miles watched as Franziska beheld the baroness with a steely gaze.

“Yes, well I must find some source of amusement in quaint villages such as this. It is so very far to London, and I would hate for this journey to have been for nothing.”

Maya’s lips twitched and she curtsied low, “I would hate for my ladyship to have wasted a fortnight’s carriage ride all the way here to be disappointed.” She echoed the thinly veiled judgement that had laced the countess’ voice, before adding assertively, “I have lived here my entire life and I daresay society here is not so lacking. Indeed, I believe it to be superior to all the neighbouring towns, wouldn’t you agree, Phoenix?”

Miles turned to the familiar face of his childhood who, like himself, had been watching the repartee between the women with some amusement. Phoenix Wright, also at six-and-twenty, had not changed much from his boyhood. His brown-blue eyes were just as piercing as in his memories, and his angular black hair had not changed. There was a twinkle in his eyes as the baroness had turned to him.

“Indeed, my lady, but it makes one think - a countess does not leisurely take the effort of travelling a fortnight to the countryside for the season unless she had a specific goal in mind.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Matrimony - that is why you have journeyed so far, is it not?”

Miles couldn’t help but smirk. The baroness nodded approvingly at her companion’s deduction with a mischievous smile.

“Hmm,” Their exchange seemed to give Franziska pause, “Well deduced, Mr. Wright, though I think any fool who can speak could have reached the same conclusion, even if he is only the son of a merchant.” She glanced at him before turning to the baroness.

Franziska curtsied, speaking in a slightly louder voice, “Nonetheless, I need not hide my intentions - it is as you say - my express purpose in coming to Aldercombe to find a husband, or wife.”

“I wish you success, my lady.”  The baroness made to curtsey her farewell, but Franziska cleared her throat, instead holding out her hand to the baroness,

“In fact, as my first task in the matter, I wish to have you dance with me. Is there space on your dance card?”

The baroness was clearly taken aback, whether flattered or stunned Miles couldn’t say, but she wordlessly presented the dance card attached to her wrist.

The crowd behind Mr. Wright and the baroness caught wind of this, chattering excitedly. The baroness curtsied her thanks, “I am honoured, my lady,” before curtseying to Miles and walking away. With his companion having made her exit, Wright looked quite still before slowly addressing Miles.

“It is good to see you again, my lord.” Phoenix bowed, and Miles bowed in return, pleasant words poised on his tongue before he rose to see Mr. Wright hastily return to the dance floor, a spirited young girl joining him in a jig.  Transfixed, Miles found himself watching the man dance. Phoenix Wright was just as spirited in his movements as his dance partner, who could not have been older than nineteen. There was a carefree nature to his movements - practiced and precise, but carefree nonetheless. While other couples on the dance floor were stiffer and stricter in their movements, Mr. Wright had an energy that was… captivating to watch. 

Oh, to be able to share a dance with him. 

Miles bowed through tens of introductions, silently amused at Franziska’s forthright requests for select other members to dance with her and subtle judgements of others. Once the masses had satisfied their curiosity and need for introduction, Miles was free to spend the ball how he usually did. 

Standing against the wall, watching everyone else amuse themself.

Franziska wasted no time in dancing with her many candidates. Miles noted that she only smiled and specifically curtsied following the end of two dances - one with the Baroness Fey, and another with a blonde-haired lady.  The rest of the night, Miles spent pleasantly watching Wright dance the night away. No matter his dance partner, the time of night, or the length of the dance, he was just as free and spirited. It was both refreshing and terrifying, for Miles himself knew he was not so spirited a dancer.

***

“The whole ton presents themself to us, and I find only two suitable candidates.” Franziska scoffed once they were in the privacy of their barouche box, “Baroness Fey was a lovely dancer, even if her opinion of Aldercombe is entirely too high, but I found Lady Andrews was very spirited in conversation.”

Miles merely nodded - he did not have the energy for conversation now that they had left the frivolities.

“I see you did not dance, as usual, Miles Edgeworth.” The countess addressed him fiercely, “How did you spend your evening? I imagine it was quite droll.”

He glanced at his sister, instead of looking out at the dark window, “I simply watched the dances.”

“Hmph,” Franziska watched him, “Well, Miles, since I have begun my search for a betrothed, I must tell you that I intend to return to Ashwick Hall with my betrothed at the conclusion of this season. And you will not return with me.”

“W-What?” Miles was shocked. Though he knew Ashwick Hall was not his, he had stayed there for most of his life now. 

Franziska nodded, “I must return to Ashwick with my future wife - it will be one of these women - and we will be too busy building a family. There will be no space for you, little brother.” She finished matter-of-factly.

To be suddenly turned out was… shocking, though as he swallowed the bad news, he wasn’t entirely surprised that Franziska had decided to spring this on him. 

Miles scoffed, “I wish you had told me before you carted us down here. I haven’t the time to pack my belongings in Ashwick.”

“No matter,” Franziska opened a matching powder-blue fan, “I have already seen to that. Your belongings should arrive in the next few weeks.”

“Really, Franziska, it would not have been hard to inform me of this before we journeyed here.”

“Ah, but then you would have hesitated in joining me here.” She fluttered her fan, smarmily, “Besides, I need your full attention and focus while we are here, to make sure that my plan does not fail.”

“You appear to have taken care of it well enough.” He grumbled, “I doubt you need my eye, or opinion on the matter.”

“Yes, but luck favours the prepared.” And she fluttered her fan, pinky finger extended, signalling the end of the conversation.

He rolled his eyes, staring back out the window of the barouche.

Since he absolutely had to spend a social season and the rest of time here in Aldercombe, then Phoenix Wright would be his distraction.

Chapter Text

“Well that was a brilliant ball,” Maya fanned herself the next morning. She sat on the plush, cream-coloured, sofa opposite Phoenix on a smaller matching armchair, as they enjoyed morning tea. The large, airy, drawing room in Fey Manor afforded the occupants a charming view of the grounds of the manor as well as the large trees that littered around Aldercombe, with glimpses of the Hazelbank River in between.  

Phoenix could only nod, swallowing a mouthful of tea. His head had spun all night with visions of the viscount in his dashing burgundy tailcoat. With his luck, he would be running into him countless times this season, he was sure. Attending the social events of the season felt a little less thrilling at the thought.

“It’s no wonder you thought it brilliant,” He set the teacup down with a clink, “You gained the specific attention of the Countess, no less, despite - or perhaps because of - our witty conversation. Is a courtship soon to follow?” He winked at his neighbour.

“Oh, stop that.” She fanned herself, flattered nonetheless, “It is always pleasant to have the attention of a countess - even if she is not so far impressed with Aldercombe. I daresay I wasn’t expecting the countess to be so… outspoken or single-minded in her intentions. She made quick work of telling me her exact expectations of both courtship and married life. You know, she already has her warden selected?”

Phoenix raised his eyebrows at this. 

Same-sex couples, for obvious reasons, could not procreate naturally. However, this was 1816, and there were scientific - or rather, social - advancements, primarily in the way of either surrogacy or adoption.

For female-presenting couples, it was simple - there were many second sons of wealthy families, who were young and did not generally have a title of their own to pass on to any heirs. In an agreement between families, the so-called ‘warden’ could… donate the required matter for procreation with very little consequence to their character, or any future family of their own, really. 

Of course, for any couple, there was the simple path of adoption. Many an orphan babe, or bastard child, would find themselves adopted by many queer gentry. As such, these ex-orphans were able to inherit land, monies, and titles without a word about who their birth parents were. As far as society was concerned, the adoptive parents were the birth parents.

In rare instances where there was pride or vanity in ensuring the bloodline truly continued, a male-presenting couple could consider consented surrogacy. Older, unwed daughters of gentry families could consent to becoming surrogate mothers for these couples. The law firmly stated that the ‘wardette’ had to fully consent, and that the future parents would provide money and housing on the estate, where the wardette could be looked after and in turn, be the child’s wet nurse as well. It wasn’t without its own controversy and occasional rumours of exploitation, and most couples generally opted for adoption, which was far easier.

The fact that Countess Von Karma had journeyed here to Aldercombe with the sole view to find a husband or wife, and already had a warden agreed ahead of time, spoke to her ambition.

“Would you genuinely be happy courting the countess? You have to think of your own family - who would inherit Fey Manor if you’re carted off to Carlisle and shackled to… her? Pearl is still far too young to inherit the estate.”

Pearl Fey was Maya’s younger sister. A small girl of only 13, she was not yet out in society, but was a gentle creature with mousy brown hair. She was the most precious person in Maya’s life.

“Oh please, it is far too early to be thinking of that.” Maya waved him off with her fan, “Besides, even if the countess does not think me suitable, why shouldn’t I at least entertain myself? I know most of the families here in Aldercombe, I have danced with and talked to most of the eligible lords and ladies. It’s… refreshing to have a new face in town.”

“So, are congratulations in order?” 

Maya rested the fan on her blushing left cheek, “No.”

“Not yet, at least.” Phoenix smirked, picking up a scone.

“Oh hush, you! I do, however, intend to call on countess and viscount tomorrow.” Maya opened the fan again, absentmindedly waving it as she talked, “I must, since we are neighbours, and you should come with me.” She pointed her fan at Phoenix, “Besides, I think it would be nice for you and the viscount to catch up. I noticed you didn’t talk to him at all last night.” She looked at him knowingly.

Gah, Phoenix hated how the baroness’ knowing stare could make him feel like he was a young boy in trouble with his governess again.

“Then you would have observed him plastered to the wall, out of sight, as I did.” Phoenix said with an attempted air of indifference.

“And you couldn’t have found time to talk to him because…”

“It… I was eager to dance last night, is all,” He mumbled.

“Mmhmm,” Maya smiled, knowingly.

***

“The Baroness Fey, and Mr. Wright.” The butler declared as Maya and Phoenix strode into the enormous drawing room of Highcroft early the next afternoon, where Phoenix couldn’t help but gaze at the sheer beauty of the room.

Two plush, blue, satin sofas sat opposite each other beside a fireplace on the left side of the room. A decent-sized circular mahogany table with 6 seats around it sat at the back of the room, where one could look out the large windows at the Hazelbank River, in clearer view than at Fey Manor, with rambling forests and hills in the distance. The dark, polished, wooden, herringbone floor added a sense of elegance.

The viscount and countess rose from the sofas near the unlit fireplace to welcome their guests. Maya extended her gift to the countess - a bundle of orange carnations.

Fascination . 

Phoenix had rolled his eyes when she had picked them out in town that morning. He had half a mind to tell her to pick geraniums - a symbol of stupidity - or at least some delphiniums to show that it was a passing feeling - a foolish fancy.

The countess smiled at the gesture, taking the flowers before ushering Maya and Phoenix to sit opposite their hosts. 

“So, my lord and lady,” Maya started, “What did you think of last night’s ball? Was it not brilliant? And such a start to the season!” Her enthusiasm for gossip and any sort of entertainment could never be restrained by the air of manners that she maintained as the baroness. 

“It was pleasant enough. You danced quite well,” Lady Franziska acknowledged as her servant poured tea out for the four of them. Phoenix took his cup as soon as he could - the less talking he had to do, the better, and even better to watch this dance between Maya and the countess, “Few of my partners last night danced half as well as you, or Lady Andrews.”

Phoenix couldn’t place the name and against his better judgement, “Lady Andrews?” He inquired.

Lady Franziska turned to him, not without a hint of disdain on her face - he was clearly not in her good books, “Lady Adrian Andrews. She is fairly new to town, and is apparently staying with relatives.”

Phoenix nodded, “Well between dancing with Maya and Lady Andrews, I hope you’ll find ample engagement -” Maya pointedly cleared her throat at this, “during the rest of the season.” Phoenix went back to casually sipping his tea, ignoring the glare from the baroness beside him.

“Of course, the next ball is my own - the Fey Ball,” Maya pointed out quickly, “Invitations have not yet been sent, but you are both warmly invited and I hope to see you both dance.” She looked at the viscount and then at Phoenix, who was pointedly looking at his nearly empty teacup. 

“Thank you, my lady,” Viscount Edgeworth replied after a pause, “Though I… I fear I lack the refinement nor the freedom for dancing.”

“Why should that stop you?” Maya asked, “You will never improve if you do not find partners to practice with. Take Phoenix for example,” Phoenix looked at her suddenly, “He was a shocking partner to dance with at his first ball - I believe my elder sister, Mia, limped for a good day afterwards.”

“M-Maya!” Phoenix cried, embarrassed.

“But, Mia was determined that Phoenix should not be the laughing stock of every ball in Aldercombe. So she danced every ball that season with him until he improved so much that it’s hard to ask him to dance now at any ball, for his dance card quickly fills at the start of each night - with both ladies and gentlemen.” Maya continued, ignoring Phoenix’s reddened face with a twinkle in her eyes, “Truly, Lord Edgeworth, you should at least watch Phoenix dance. It is heartening, and freeing, to do so.”

“I-I-” the viscount faltered, “I… will consider your words, my lady. It sounds like your sister was a great help. Pray, where is your sister now?”

The mischief in Maya’s eyes faltered, “She became ill suddenly about two and a half years ago, and passed not long afterwards.”

“My consolations, My Lady.” The viscount immediately said, soothingly. 

“Yes, we are sorry to hear of your sister’s passing,” The countess echoed, “My own father passed only a year ago, and it is… still difficult some days.”

Maya nodded, “Grief is made easier when there are family and friends around.” 

She looked at Phoenix, “I do not think I could have managed without the friendship of my neighbour, Phoenix. But Mia and myself extended the same courtesy and support when his parents passed prior to that, and his own parents were incredibly caring supportive neighbours for our family when our mother passed ten years ago.”

Lady Franziska looked between them.

“Considering your history and your close friendship, I wonder that no one in the town does not suspect an attachment between the two of you.” She sipped her tea, a steely gaze on Phoenix, before Maya and Phoenix burst out laughing loudly.

“Phoenix?” Maya laughed, “How amusing, Lady Franziska.”

“Indeed,” Phoenix chuckled, “What a good joke.”

The countess froze with her teacup at her lips, before lowering it slowly.

“Explain.” She commanded with a frown on her face.

“Well, my lady,” Maya answered with a stifled chuckle, “Phoenix and I are old friends, that is true, but I practically consider him a brother. Nothing more, and he would say the same of me.” 

Phoenix nodded at this and Lady Franziska seemed to relax slightly. 

“Besides, if I am to marry, I only wish to have a wife, not a husband,” Maya continued, as Phoenix noticed a smile of approval from the countess, “And I know Phoenix isn’t looking for a wife.” She smiled, rather pointedly, at Lord Edgeworth who suddenly seemed focused on his teacup as Phoenix spluttered at this.

The baroness may be his best friend, but she also enjoyed meddling and causing mischief, usually in Phoenix’s life the most.

“Say, my Lady,” Phoenix said suddenly, “Why don’t you tell us of your journey here? Travelling a fortnight must have been arduous.” He looked at the countess, eager to divert the conversation anywhere else .

Countess Von Karma was only too happy to oblige, regaling them - rather dramatically - of every detail of their journey; where they stayed, the poor attitudes of the footmen at the inn, the scenery, the finest room in the second inn that still had a lumpy bed, before commenting on the welcome warmer weather here in Somersetshire. The conversation continued for some time before Maya and Phoenix took their leave, but not without Maya inviting the viscount and countess to dinner in two days time. 

As they bowed and left, Phoenix noted the countess fiddling with the flowers.

***

Two nights later, the countess and viscount attended at Fey Manor. Dinner was a small party of five: the Countess, Viscount, Baroness, Phoenix, and Pearl, who wore her best pink dress for dinner.

As host and lady of the house, Maya sat at the head of the table with Lady Franziska to her immediate right, and Pearl to her immediate left, leaving Phoenix sitting beside Pearl, and opposite the viscount. 

The women made easy small talk over soup, the countess speaking surprisingly gently towards Pearl, but Phoenix could not find the words to even strike up conversation with the man opposite him. Silence eventually fell over the dinner table as the main course was brought out. 

“So, Lord Edgeworth, I understand you enjoy Japanese books,” Maya began, as a servant filled her plate with food.

“W-Why, yes,” Edgeworth started, clearly surprised, “I do. Franziska must have told you.”

“Only because I shared my love of them first,” Maya gave a warm smile, “I am rather fond of the fantastical nature of it all - tales of samurais and steel. It's rather thrilling, but - have you heard of them?”

Edgeworth nodded strongly, “Indeed, they are…” He seemed to catch himself, before clearing his throat, “Well, they are the best books I have ever read.”

The unlikely but shared interest in these books seemed to only unite the viscount and baroness. The countess looked quite confused, and Phoenix turned to Pearl who smiled at him and he winked in return. 

“So, when did you become interested in these books, my lord?” Maya sipped from her glass goblet, having regaled Edgeworth with a recap of her favourite book.

Edgeworth hastily swallowed a mouthful of food, “In my youth.” He seemed satisfied with the answer and resumed eating in silence.

Maya looked at Phoenix, briefly puzzled at the curt answer, before pressing on.

“Well, how did you discover them?”

“I was in the market one day, and they caught my eye.” Edgeworth paused and then shrugged.

“I see.” Maya watched him carefully, the excitement in her eyes slowly dying as she attempted to carry the conversation, “What do you like best about these books?”

That seemed to give Edgeworth pause, “I… The strong sense of justice in the books.” He nodded slowly, “Yes, that is what I like best about them.”

Phoenix could only watch the slow conversation in mild shock. 

The Edgeworth of his youth, who had run around meadows and had spoken so freely, so loudly, was entirely apart from the viscount in front of him who was so reserved and measured in his speech.

Maya knew a losing battle when she saw it. Conversation turned to other interests as the party finished their main course. After dinner, the group moved to the drawing room for conversation and entertainment.

“Ah, a fine pianoforte!” The countess exclaimed as she walked into the room, “Lady Fey, do you play?”

“Indeed,” Maya curtsied, “Shall I play something for us?” The countess nodded as Maya sat herself at the piano seat, before playing a Clementi sonata. The group listened in silence as Maya worked her way through difficult passages with a declarative first movement, a sweet second movement, and a faster third movement. 

The gentle applause that followed failed to convey how enraptured the viscount and countess had been during the performance. Phoenix had never seen the two of them so wholly focused on something. He swore he could see the viscount’s fingers twitch slightly in time with the music at one point. 

“A brilliant performance,” Lady Franziska praised, “Miles, why don’t you perform now?” 

Wordlessly, the viscount switched places with Maya, sitting and immediately playing a rather difficult piece by Mozart. It was Maya and Phoenix’s turn to be transfixed. Apart from glances between hands as he played, the viscount’s composure was calm as he played a piece seemingly flawlessly and entirely from memory. 

“I… had no idea that Edgeworth - Lord Edgeworth could play.” Phoenix found himself mumbling in awe. 

“My papa ensured that myself and my little brother were tutored in the arts, languages, and literature.” Lady Franziska replied, “I sing, draw and dance. My brother can sing, and play as you can see, though he spends most of his time in the library with his books.” She finished with an annoyed tone.

The Edgeworth of his youth had enjoyed fishing and sailing. Phoenix didn’t know what to think of this refined ‘Lord Edgeworth’ who played piano and could sing .

The conclusion of the viscount’s performance was met with enthusiastic applause. 

“Anyone else wish to entertain? Or shall we play a round of cards?” Maya inquired of the group.

“I… um…” Pearl raised her hand, speaking quietly, “Can I read a… a sonnet?”

“Of course you may!” Maya obliged her enthusiastically.

Pearl pulled a small book from somewhere and, standing in front of the fireplace, read aloud:

“If thou must love me, let it be for nought,

Except for love's sake only.”  

She began rather dramatically - the tone of her voice was very serious and surprisingly strong.

“Do not say 

'I love her for her smile--her look--her way 

Of speaking gently,--for a trick of thought 

That falls in well with mine, and c-car-cer-” 

She faltered.

“Certes,” Maya interjected gently.

“certes brought,”

Pearl continued with a small smile,

“A sense of pleasant ease on such a day'-- 

For these things in themselves, Beloved, may 

Be changed, or change for thee,--and love, so wrought, 

May be unwrought so.” 

She was in a rhythm now, her surprisingly strong voice growing in confidence as she continued the sonnet. Phoenix stole a glance over at Lord Edgeworth, who was listening intently with his eyes closed. 

“Neither love me for 

Thine own dear pity's wiping my cheeks dry,-- 

A creature might forget to weep, who bore 

Thy comfort long, and lose thy love thereby!”

Pearl exclaimed, with a slight breath before finishing,  

“But love me for love's sake, that evermore 

Thou mayst love on, through love's eternity.”

Appreciative applause followed as Pearl bashfully curtsied before hurriedly sitting beside Maya, who hugged her supportively. 

Their guests eventually bade them farewell after a few rounds of cards - Phoenix winning nearly every round, to the chagrin of the table. He could have sworn that he’d almost seen the viscount smile at Phoenix’s victory.

Puzzling.

“I think that went rather well, don’t you?” Maya smiled at Phoenix, who watched the faint candlelight of the carriage disappear down the road, unsure what to make of the handsome man that used to be his childhood friend.

Chapter Text

The invitations had been sent days after their dinner with the viscount and countess, and now it had arrived - the day of the Fey Ball.

If the Repington Ball was eagerly anticipated at the start of every season, its conclusion quickly drew the speculation of the town as to what excitement the Fey Ball would bring. Lavish food, fabulous musicians, tasteful but extravagant decorations - it was all part of the event.

It felt like every person in Aldercombe was here at Fey Manor, and as lady of the house, and host, Maya greeted every guest. She looked fashionable as ever in her signature Japanese purple silk satin dress, white gloves, and an ornate yellow jade-like stone hairpin. Conversation was already lively and the musicians were tuning, in anticipation of a long night of dancing and frivolity.

Stepping into the familiar ballroom, Phoenix cast his eyes over the crowd, noting the presence of the countess near the musicians. She wore a fine grey-silver dress with accents of blue, a matching ostrich feather in her hair and pristine white gloves. The viscount was nowhere to be seen, but Phoenix had no doubt he was somewhere. Phoenix straightened the front of his navy tailcoat, he would put the viscount out of his mind for there was dancing to do.

Maya had been correct - Phoenix’s dance card had filled up quite quickly; there were only three spots left and it was shaping up to be a lively night of dancing. With the guests greeted, Maya gracefully called the couples to the floor for the first dance - a traditional minuet to start the night. Maya asked Lady Franziska to lead with her, and Phoenix had noted the scowl on the face of a nearby lady as she did so. 

Her blonde hair curled in an elaborate updo, the scowling lady’s brown eyes were fixated on Maya with a clear look of jealousy on her face - Phoenix realised this must be the Lady Adrian Andrews. The green of jealousy looked poorly against her deep blue silk taffeta dress, or maybe Phoenix thought rather meanly, that was just her complexion.

He put it out of his mind, however, as he led his own dance partner - Miss Augusta Hollingsworth - to the floor. Phoenix loved all dances - cotillions, quadrilles, reels, jigs, and even the controversial waltz. There was a beauty in the way dances intricately wove the music, styles and steps of dance, various dance partners, and background noise of a ball into a form of entertainment for crowds alike, whether participating in or watching the dance. 

No matter what the dance was, Phoenix loved losing himself in them. If his partner was not particularly talkative, he let the music and motion embrace him and sweep him away. Other times, the conversation was so lively that the dance passed so quickly and Phoenix would nearly mourn the fact that he had missed feeling the music.

Miss Hollingsworth was a fine dancer and she often danced at least one dance in most balls with Phoenix. She was 5 years his junior, wearing a peach-coloured silk taffeta dress which complemented her dark brown hair. Her hazel eyes sparkled whenever she spoke of birds, which she often sought out on her daily walks. Neither were interested in the other, but they often enjoyed each other’s company to dance.

As they moved in time with the lilting music, Phoenix glanced at the crowd around them before suddenly turning back to his dance partner with resolute attention.

Augusta was telling him about a beautiful dove she had seen in a tree, and Phoenix determinedly listened with great intent because he definitely was not going to pay attention to the fact that the burgundy-coated viscount had, once again, plastered himself to a wall. 

The chattering masses in front of the viscount seemed to pay him no mind, but as their turn in the set resumed, every time Phoenix turned to face the wall - there he was.

The minuet finished, the crowd applauded the musicians, and the dance floor was temporarily emptied. Phoenix bowed his thanks to Miss Hollingsworth, noting how Maya had lingered to talk to Lady Franziska while Lady Andrews hovered, perhaps too closely, nearby. 

Having grabbed a quick refreshment of lemonade, Phoenix found his second dance partner of the night - Mr. Allen. Perhaps a little heavy-footed, Mr. Allen was rather rugged and charming. Phoenix enjoyed dancing with him, but nothing had gone further than that. 

Maya led the second dance, a lengthy cotillion, with Miss Georgina Bartlett - one of her only other friends besides Phoenix. Lady Franziska and Lady Andrews were the second couple beside them - the smug look on Lady Andrews’ face was plain to see, and she seemed to chat animatedly with the countess about some topic.

Phoenix tried not to roll his eyes at Lady Andrews - if Maya wanted to be with Lady Franziska then it would happen. Maya was comparatively a higher station than Lady Andrews in any case, and he had no doubt that the countess’ high standards would prefer Maya over Lady Andrews. 

He focused on enjoying his dance with Mr. Allen. Or rather, he tried.

Annoyingly, the viscount was in the same spot - a rather tall, handsome, wallflower. It was a wonder that no one asked him to dance. He was the viscount after all. Though as Phoenix turned to look at him again, he did seem rather intimidating with the way that he stared at everything. There was even a slight frown on his face as he looked at the dance floor, but Phoenix focused on dancing.

The second dance coming to an end, Phoenix thanked Mr. Allen before Mr. Banfield found him for the third dance. A lively country dance was called, for Maya loved the variety of dances at a ball, regardless of the prestige of the event. Phoenix smiled to himself, observing that she was dancing yet again with Lady Franziska. 

Phoenix had never danced with Mr. Banfield before. The man was just thirty, and owned a small estate outside of Aldercombe. More than that, Phoenix couldn’t remember - in part because a lively dance made for difficult conversation, but also the viscount was now glaring at the dancers. 

No one but Phoenix appeared to have noticed, and lightning struck Phoenix when the glaring dark eyes met his own for a brief second. The viscount too, was visibly shocked at their sudden eye contact, and he crossed his arms as he looked away with a bitter expression.

The childhood friend of days long gone seemed to be slipping through Phoenix’s memories, only this dark, handsome stranger lingering, against his best wishes.

The lively dance bounded to its end, with Maya calling for supper time as the crowd moved towards the dining and parlour rooms.

“You seem to enjoy the countess’ dancing,” Phoenix nodded to Maya, sitting beside her at the table. A spread of cold meats, cheeses, and pastries was laid along each of the large tables throughout the dining and parlour rooms that comfortably sat the throng of guests, with wine and ale flowing aplenty. 

“Yes, well,” Maya waved him off, her cheeks reddened as she sipped a glass of wine, “You have no lack of dance partners as per usual. It’s a shame the viscount doesn’t dance with you.” She sighed, looking over at a separate table across the dining room where the countess and viscount sat. Phoenix was thoroughly unsurprised to see Lady Andrews sitting with them, talking at length with the countess, while the viscount remained silent. 

“He stood against the wall again tonight,” Phoenix spoke in hushed whispers, “Like a tall, brooding, wallflower. It is a wonder he hasn’t had others ask to dance with him.”

“Others like you?” Maya grinned.

“Stop that, if you weren’t too busy enjoying the countess’ attention, you would have seen him yourself,” He teased, “Honestly, by the end of the last dance he looked nearly angry.”

“Perhaps he does not enjoy balls?” Maya reasoned.

“Then why stand, watching the dancing so intently?” Phoenix asked, “He could have found the other men with their cards, enjoyed the wine and ale, and stopped bothering the rest of us who actually want to enjoy our night.”

Maya looked at Phoenix with an indescribable gaze.

“Yes, well speaking of bothering others, I can’t say Lady Andrews is particularly subtle in her intentions.” She looked pointedly at Lady Andrews who was laughing rather loudly beside the countess, who was laughing much more reservedly, “It is one thing to vy for a suitor’s attention, it is another to hover and scowl when your intended person is talking to another. Very poor manners.” Maya finished bitterly. 

“Let us put both characters out of our mind and enjoy the rest of the night.” Phoenix said reassuringly, “I think it has otherwise been a fantastic ball so far.”

Supper continued for nearly an hour as everyone ate and drank for energy to continue dancing the night away. The merriment never ceased.

“Now, now, I think the time for supper has finished,” Maya called jovially nearly an hour later, “Time to dance again!” 

Maya took Phoenix by the hand, leading him to the dance floor. The musicians sat nearby, instruments at the ready, as couples took their places (including Lady Franziska and Lady Andrews), and the spectators gathered around the room.

A rousing Scotch reel never failed to get the blood pumping. Phoenix couldn’t wipe the grin off his face as the dancers tapped their feet, bounded round and round, passing around and weaving between each other as the fiddle played the lively music. 

All thoughts of Lord Edgeworth had left his head, as Phoenix let himself be swallowed up by the music and the atmosphere. Easy to do, until the conclusion of the piece when Phoenix bowed to Maya, slightly breathless and Maya curtsied before looking behind him with a slight look of shock on his face. 

“...Dance the next with me, Wright.” Lord Edgeworth said in a pained voice as he bowed slightly and held out his hand, as Phoenix stared at him in shock, “I beg you.”

The viscount remained in that position as Phoenix processed the request. 

It would be incredibly rude to refuse the offer of a viscount to dance, even if the offer had been sudden. On the other hand, Phoenix had just watched the man increasingly glare at the dancers all night. He didn’t seem to make good conversation, either. 

This could be a massive train wreck, but Phoenix had no choice unless he wished to cause scandal. He wordlessly took the viscount’s hand, as the viscount stood up straight and gave Phoenix a small nod. 

Leading Phoenix to their places, the music started again for a quadrille. It was a smaller group of dancers for this song - only eight couples, split into two groups of four couples standing in a square-like arrangement. In one square, Lady Andrews seemed to have found another lovely partner in the form of a mousy-brown haired lady in a dark red dress, who was unfamiliar to Phoenix. But the main square held Maya and Lady Franziska, who were again leading the dance, opposite Phoenix and Lord Edgeworth.

One half of the couples started by dancing into the centre, creating almost a four-point star as their partners followed suit, joining them, holding left hands together. 

It was incredibly difficult for Phoenix not to look at his partner as their hands touched, holding one another in a tender grasp. Lord Edgeworth’s movements were precise and practiced, his dark eyes flicking between their hands and Phoenix’s gaze.

Phoenix and Maya slowly stepped into the centre, Lady Franziska and Lord Edgeworth stepping in equal measure away from the square before both couples returned to their original positions, turning with both hands held. 

Phoenix could hear Maya and the countess chatting, but it seemed Lord Edgeworth preferred to dance silently. For the first time, Phoenix found it difficult to become swept up in the music when his hands were being gently yet firmly held by his dance partner. 

“I… I did not know you danced, Lord Edgeworth,” Phoenix found himself saying as they both turned to step towards the centre, mirror images of Maya and Lady Franziska.

“I… rarely dance,” was the reply as they split from each other to weave through the couples on the side of the dance square to return to their starting position. 

As Phoenix continued the quadrille, moving across the square to turn with Lady Franziska as Maya did so with Lord Edgeworth, he did not know what to think. Passing back through the centre and smiling at Maya who mirrored him, he decided to ignore the fluttering in his heart as Lord Edgeworth took his hands once more. 

The dance continued as all four couples danced into the centre, turning with hands clasped.

“In truth, I did not think I enjoyed dancing.” Lord Edgeworth mumbled.

“Oh,” Phoenix replied, “I was unaware… since we did not dance much as boys.”

“The baroness spoke… extremely well of your talent when you came to call,” the viscount continued as they watched the two other couples complete the same steps they had done earlier, “Watching you dance is… thrilling, to say the least.”

Phoenix turned to look at the viscount with confused awe, but he would not meet his gaze, even after such a quietly proclaimed compliment. 

“You know, I have wondered myself that you have not had others asking to dance with you,” Phoenix said after a time.

That earned him a small smile from the viscount, “I find that others are… intimidated, by me.”

“...I-” Phoenix started but couldn’t reply, for it was the start of the third round and they were the lead couple now. 

Despite his reluctance for dancing, Phoenix couldn’t deny that Lord Edgeworth was a brilliant dance partner. It nearly felt like being around his old friend again, save for the silence that always lurked between conversation. He found himself oddly desperate to reacquaint himself with his dance partner. By the time the fourth, and final, round of the quadrille had started, Phoenix hadn’t even noted that his hand had lingered a second longer in Lord Edgeworth’s hand after they had finished turning together. 

“Well, I think it would be very sad indeed if Lady Franziska was able to find ample entertainment and delight at a ball where you could not.” Phoenix mused, as they watched the others dance. 

“You would…?” Lord Edgeworth replied.

“Indeed, and to be such a brilliant dance partner and not dance would be inexcusable.” Phoenix continued with a boyish smile on his face as he turned to his dance partner.

“Do you think you have space on your dance card for another dance together?”

The viscount nodded with a faint blush.

Chapter Text

The brief carriage ride back to his estate (on Maya’s insistence, it was too dark to walk in her opinion) allowed Phoenix the freedom to blush brazenly. He and Lord Edgeworth had danced again immediately after their quadrille, dancing another reel which afforded the opportunity to hold his hands for nearly the whole dance. 

Phoenix had the distinct feeling that he had never been so aware of holding another person’s hands before. 

They had spent the last moments of the ball standing against the wall, watching the rest of the dancers together. Phoenix had welcomed the opportunity to strangely catch his breath - he had not been this out of breath in the first half of the ball - and to chat to the viscount. 

“I… Truly, it is good to see you again, my lord.” Phoenix stumbled. 

Lord Edgeworth looked at him, and Phoenix had been entirely convinced that he was not in the mood for conversation before, “It is… pleasant to be back… but I fear I have missed much in the past 17 years.”

Their conversation turned towards reminiscing about their youth together, and Phoenix relished in informing the viscount of how various childhood friends had progressed into adulthood. 

For example, Anne Brown, a plain girl, had moved away to Brighton with an aunt at 12 years old, and now there were rumours that she was a Duchess, of all things. Michael Ellis, who had been the quietest and perhaps shyest boy they knew, had studied medicine and was now the resident physician in Aldercombe. Prudence Browning and James Humphries were always seen running around together in town - their families lived quite close - so there was no surprise on the viscount’s face when Phoenix had told him that they had been married 6 years now, with two sons and expecting their third child.

The ball had finished and the carriages called before Phoenix had the chance to even ask the viscount anything about him . After his father’s death when they were nine, Phoenix had hoped that a relative lived nearby who could allow Lord Edgeworth to remain at Highcroft. There wasn’t even so much as a goodbye, before a carriage arrived within two days of Sir Gregory Edgeworth’s passing to escort the young Edgeworth so very far north to Carlisle to stay with distant family from his mother’s side. There was so much that Phoenix wished to know about Lord Edgeworth’s youth, and so much he wished to tell him. 

It was not to be at the Fey Ball, but Phoenix was nothing if not determined. 

The baroness came to call on Phoenix the next day, insisting they go for a walk around the Elmridge/Fey Manor estate grounds. Phoenix could only too eagerly oblige her - fresh air was always good, the sights around the grounds were heartening for the mind and soul, and the less servant’s ears to hear gossip, the better. 

They started down Elmridge Lane; Maya having donned a lovely lilac muslin bonnet to protect from the sun, and a tan-coloured Spencer jacket over her simple white muslin gown, and Phoenix accompanying with his tan overcoat and modest black top hat. The mornings in mid-autumn were turning cool enough to wear coats outdoors, especially when the grounds on both estates were heavy with trees and ample shade. 

“So,” Maya said, holding on to Phoenix’s elbow tightly in excitement as they strolled together, “what did you think of last night?”

Phoenix chuckled, “Your best ball yet, in my opinion.”

She swatted his arm gently, “Obviously, but that was not what I meant,” Her dark eyes looked at him seriously, “Tell me how your dances with the viscount went! I can’t believe he asked you for a second dance.” She was positively beaming.

“Ah, well,” Phoenix laughed weakly, “ I actually asked him for the second dance.”

The grip on his elbow tightened, “Tell me everything, immediately.” She commanded, the uncontainable excitement in her voice betraying the sharpness of her statement. 

“He is… a very good dancer,” Phoenix stated, pointedly not looking at Maya who he could tell in his peripheral vision was staring at him. Silence hung between them as Phoenix tried to find the words to describe the previous night. 

“Is that all?” Maya eventually inquired.

“Of course not,” Phoenix replied, bemused, “In truth, not much really happened when I think about it. We danced the quadrille, I enjoyed it so I asked him for another and then we spent the rest of the evening talking about our childhood peers.”

“Well that is more talking than you two have done since he came to Aldercombe, so I suppose that is something.” Maya said thoughtfully.

They turned down a dirt lane between the oldest and largest trees in the grounds, the faint sounds of the river dancing along the breeze with the chirps and chitters of birds and woodland creatures.

“I…” Phoenix started, pulling the two of them to a stop, “It was nice to talk to my childhood friend, but at the same time, everything I have seen and heard of him show he is such a different person to who I knew then. In our limited conversation last night, I learnt nothing of who he is now or how he spent his time up in Carlisle.”

They resumed walking, at a much slower pace.

“Would you dance with him again?”

“Oh, yes,” Phoenix nodded, “Now that we have… spoken again, I believe it will be easier to start talking again, let alone dancing. I already plan to ask him to dance with me tomorrow at the Hollingsworth’s ball.”

“I am glad to hear that.” Maya smiled.

“And you? Am I yet to congratulate you?” Phoenix nudged the baroness with his elbow, a mischievous grin creeping onto his face. 

She swatted him back in retaliation, a rueful smile on her face, “No. Not yet at least.”

“You danced with her thrice last night.” Phoenix said incredulously, “There are few people I have seen you dance twice, and even fewer thrice, together at a single ball.”

Maya only sighed as they walked ten paces more in silence, before Phoenix looked at her suspiciously.

“Now it is my turn to be hesitant,” She laughed, “I enjoy spending time with Lady Franziska. More than I thought I would. We chatted for most of our dances, I learnt about her favourite music, and she of mine. Her opinion of Aldercombe seems to be growing slowly, and she is not so… cold as she was on our first meeting.”

Maya smiled - small yet warm, “Though, perhaps that is my better knowing of her.”

“Well, though I do not think she has a high opinion of me, if you believe you could be happy with her, then I am happy for you.”

Maya squeezed his arm fondly, “Let us not get ahead of ourselves all the same. I don’t think I can be so sure of Lady Franziska’s affections as long as there is Lady Andrews to contend with.”

“Ah.” Phoenix nodded seriously, “Let us hope that the countess makes the right decision.” He winked at Maya as they turned back towards Elmridge House.

***

The Hollingsworths were one of the oldest families in Aldercombe and well respected by everyone in town. Compared to the Fey Ball, theirs was to be a smaller affair but enjoyable all the same. Even so, it was an anticipatory carriage ride. Maya fidgeted with her fan, which at least was something to keep her hands from fidgeting with her lovely red dress instead. Phoenix had opted for a black tailcoat to the event tonight, but his mind too was distracted by thoughts of a man in burgundy. 

Bowing his entry to Sir Thomas and Lady Jemima Hollingsworth, and promising a dance to Miss Augusta as usual, Phoenix made his way into the ballroom. His eyes drifted over the crowd until he found the viscount, against a wall, wearing a handsome navy tailcoat tonight. Swallowing any worries or second thoughts, Phoenix strode over to Lord Edgeworth before bowing and offering his hand for the first dance, which was wordlessly accepted. They danced a country dance in near silence, with Edgeworth bowing his gratitude at the end.

“My deepest thanks for the dance.” The timbre of his voice sent flutters though Phoenix’s body, though the tone did not convey whether the viscount would dance again or even welcome any conversation. 

Phoenix bowed all the same, “Perhaps keep your dance card open for later.” He couldn’t help but grin as he strode away to his next dance partner. 

Despite the loveliness of his next two dance partners, Phoenix couldn’t help but be distracted by the viscount’s eyes on him every time he turned to see the wall. His gaze was always met with a small smile from the viscount, throwing his mind into a spin. Having nearly stepped on Miss Augusta’s foot at the end of the scotch reel, Phoenix could no longer have the viscount idly torment him so. 

“Care for another dance, Lord Edgeworth?” He strode over to the man immediately after bidding his thanks to Miss Hollingsworth, who had looked perplexed at the unusually chaotic way that Phoenix had danced with her tonight. 

“As you wish,” Lord Edgeworth bowed, taking his hand as they moved to the floor for a quadrille. 

Phoenix watched his dance partner with curiosity. He seemed content enough to dance with Phoenix at least, and Phoenix was certain the viscount would have told him in very few words if he had not wished to dance. It almost vexed him more, that the viscount was happy to dance with him but otherwise did not engage with him unless Phoenix initiated the conversation.

Determined not to let it sway him, Phoenix inquired, “So when Lady Franziska chooses a wife, what will you do, Lord Edgeworth?” 

He looked over at Maya and Lady Franziska, who were smiling as they danced, a stunning vision of the countess’ steel blue dress against Maya’s red.

The viscount looked at him with imperceptible emotion, “I am… to reside in Highcroft.”

“After so long!” Phoenix praised, before narrowing his eyes at the viscount’s seeming indifference, “You do not seem pleased about that.”

“It… was not my original design in coming here. The countess encouraged me to accompany on her journey, and has since informed me that she is to return to Ashwick Hall with her wife alone.” Lord Edgeworth turned to look at the other dancers in their group, turning in circles before weaving in between Phoenix and the viscount.

“Well, perhaps you may find a partner of your own, since you are here to stay?” Phoenix found himself saying hopefully.

“What?” Lord Edgeworth snapped, his attention on Phoenix, “No, Wright, I… matrimony is the last thing on my mind at the present.”

“...Oh.” Phoenix mumbled, as a sudden sinking feeling filled his chest, “You do not seem to be occupying your time otherwise, I wonder at you even agreeing to dance with me in the first place, then.” He said miserably. 

“...I take pleasure in seeing my childhood friend enjoy his evenings.” Lord Edgeworth answered with a pink tinge in his cheeks.

Phoenix was suddenly aware that they now were the lead couple in the quadrille. He threw all his energy into the dance and feeling the music, so that he did not have to ponder the viscount’s words in great length. He determinedly did not engage in any further conversation with Lord Edgeworth for the rest of their dance, and bowed his thanks with a quiet, “Thank you,” at the conclusion of the music. Gratefully, supper had been called and Phoenix buried himself within the flock of guests moving towards the dining room.

He found Maya sitting at a table, a hopeful empty seat beside her as Phoenix followed her gaze across the room to see Lady Andrews yet again sitting beside the countess, her mauve muslin dress sticking out against the countess’ steel blue. While Maya perked up at the sight of her neighbour, she was rather quiet during supper which suited Phoenix fine. He busied himself with eating, and drinking a fair share of wine. 

“You know,” Phoenix heard Lady Jemima exclaim rather loudly at the next table over, “I believe this will be the last ball before the militia are stationed here in Aldercombe.”

“Really?” Mrs Langley, an older lady who was prone to gossip, inquired with enthusiasm, “Pray tell, when do they arrive? It has been so long since we have had soldiers in town.” Her voice heavy with infatuation.

“Within a week!” Lady Jemima replied, “I’m sure they’ll provide ample amusement so long as they are in town.” The ladies laughed together. Phoenix looked at Maya, both having overheard the news (though it was hard not to have done), and she sighed. The noise of supper was boisterous and energetic, but could not raise Maya’s spirits.

“You know, Phoenix, I find I am rather tired this evening. Would you accompany me home?” Maya eventually inquired politely. He nodded wordlessly, as they made to thank their hosts and call for their carriage. 

It was primarily a quiet carriage ride home except for,

“Phoenix, I think I like Lady Franziska.” Maya half-whispered behind a fan. 

Phoenix couldn’t help but smile, “Then I am very happy for you, indeed.” He squeezed her hand warmly, before turning to look out the carriage window, desperate to ignore the visions in his head of a viscount watching him dance. 

Chapter Text

Lady Jemima had been right – the militia arrived the following Tuesday, and excitement had spread through Aldercombe like wildfire. Since women could own land and titles, they too could enlist in the military, but it was still primarily men who enlisted. Regardless, there were young ladies and gentlemen aplenty who were simply infatuated with the dashing nature of red-coated soldiers who fought for king and country. 

The regiment stationed in Aldercombe was under one Colonel Shi-Long Lang. The morning they arrived, gossip raced through town of how not only was he the youngest Colonel in the army, and not only was the Colonel unmarried, but rumours said he was well and truly, a rake. The rakish quality was completely unsurprising to Phoenix – most soldiers had the fortune to flirt with any lady or gentleman during their stay in town before abruptly moving elsewhere to flirt in another town. Colonel Lang being unmarried was surprising – most Colonels found themselves a wife or husband quite easily, keen to start a family while they remained on land and out of harm’s way for a time. Whether Colonel Lang had been unsuccessful in finding a partner, was simply content to be single, or enjoyed flirting wherever he went, remained to be seen. 

As a single man himself, Phoenix guessed he shouldn’t have been so surprised when the Colonel sauntered up to him later that week at the Fletcher’s ball. 

The Fletcher family were merchants by trade, having worked to make their money, they were comfortably middle class – not so well off as the Hollingsworth’s or Maya, but a similar, if not slightly lower, station to Phoenix. Their ball was much more modest, with limited space since they did not have a separate ballroom and instead made use of their drawing room and the adjacent rooms for festivities. Nonetheless, they had invited the upper families and militia in a bid to impress the town. 

Standing in front of Phoenix, was the tall colonel in his dashing uniform with his shaggy light brown hair, his dark eyes drifting up and down as if Phoenix were prey, or a tasty snack, or both. 

“Mr. Fletcher,” The colonel called out, “Why don’t you introduce me to this… handsome gentleman.”

Mr William Fletcher could only oblige, bustling over towards the pair of them, “O-Of course, sir – Colonel Shi-Long Lang, Mr. Phoenix Wright.” 

“Pleasure to meet you, Colonel.” Phoenix bowed as the colonel did in turn, before suddenly taking Phoenix’s hand and planting a chaste kiss on the knuckles. Phoenix froze, looking at the colonel in shock.

“Please, the pleasure is all mine.” The colonel grinned wolfishly. Phoenix was positive he could see fangs when the man smiled, “But I believe I would find greater pleasure if you would oblige me with a dance?” He murmured, charm oozing out of every word he uttered. 

Phoenix couldn’t help but be flattered at his overt attention, “Of course.” He agreed.

Colonel Lang’s regiment seemed fond of a good country dance, with the dancing couples generally made up of a soldier and a townsperson. Colonel Lang danced well, but there was an intensity about him that made Phoenix uneasy. Not once did the colonel take his eyes off Phoenix, and he was eager for conversation. 

“So, what’s a pretty man like you doing in a quaint town like this?” He crooned in Phoenix’s ear as they passed each other.

Phoenix did not know how to respond, to which the colonel laughed as they spun arm in arm. The colonel chattered about how the militia intended to stay for at least the next two months together, before they moved further south to Plymouth. Colonel Lang asked at length about Phoenix’s estate, his family, and whether he was seeing anyone. At Phoenix’s hesitant reply that he was unattached, the colonel seemed almost giddy. 

Phoenix had never felt so unsure while dancing. He made the most of every opportunity where he did not have to look at the colonel, embarrassingly finding the gaze of the viscount across the room before resignedly turning back to look at the colonel.

This had to be the worst dance in his recent memory.

“Maybe I’ll have to dance with you more so I can learn about such a handsome man.” The colonel winked at him at the end of their dance.

Really, he was so shameless in his flirting, that Phoenix wasn’t sure whether it was embarrassment or infatuation he felt. He could not tell whether the colonel was really flirting with him because he liked Phoenix, or whether he was just another man to toy with. Suspecting it was the latter, Phoenix was extremely glad when the dance finally ended, and, making the excuse to relieve himself, left the colonel to find his next target. 

***

Another ball, another night of watching and wishing he could dance half as freely as Wright. The militia proved to add to Miles’ entertainment, as he looked over the masses, though he had heard no end of complaining from Franziska that morning over breakfast. 

Miles’ chuckled to himself as he watched a larger, rather clumsy, soldier – Private Gumshoe, Miles thought his name was – trip on himself as he walked to the dancefloor with his rather reluctant dance partner. Down the line, he observed the colonel hand in hand with Wright. Wright had a healthy flush to his face, which seemed too much for a simple country dance and first dance of the night. He watched with some level of discomfort as the colonel chattered for the whole dance, even going so far as to talk so closely into Wright’s ear. The sudden nerve of this man was shocking, though Miles reasoned the rumours had to have arisen from somewhere. 

The dance having ended, Wright made a hasty exit for the first time that Miles had ever seen. He watched him exit the room, before seeing the colonel approach Mr Fletcher and point at Miles himself. Unfortunately, a crowd of young ladies and soldiers had gathered on either side of him as if to welcome the colonel directly to him – he was trapped, his back helplessly to the wall, as the colonel approached him with a smug grin on his face. 

“Ah, My Lord Viscount Edgeworth,” Mr Fletcher bowed deeply, “May I introduce Colonel Shi-Long Lang, head of the regiment stationed here in Aldercombe.”

Miles bowed as did the colonel, who surprised Miles by taking his hand and placing a gentle kiss that lingered far too long on his knuckles. Miles was taken aback while Mr Fletcher seemed completely nonplussed by this extremely forward greeting. 

“My, my, you have such brilliantly handsome men in this part of England.” The buttery low tones of the colonel’s voice crooned, “Do not tell me that you are also unattached, my dear viscount?”

Finding it hard to snatch his hand back, and staring at the man in shock, “I am- That is, no.” He found his breath, “I am not attached.”

“Then will you do me the utmost pleasure,” the colonel seemed to relish that word, “of joining me in the next dance?”

Just as he had not snatched his hand back from the colonel, Miles found it strangely difficult to say no to this man, though he knew he ought to.

As they began to dance a scotch reel, Miles understood why Wright had looked so flushed. The colonel did not stop talking. Whether it was that he liked the sound of his own voice, or just wanted to lavish compliments on his dance partner, Miles had never heard so many things said about him.

“You move beautifully when you dance, did you know?” 

Miles had never felt his cheeks grow so warm.

“You should smile more, Lord Edgeworth, so that I may see the joy upon your face as you move so effortlessly.”

That made Miles look the colonel in the face, meeting those dark eyes that were heavy with such strong emotion that Miles feared if there were no other bodies in the room, the colonel would have him right there. 

It all felt incredibly odd – Miles was the higher station, he was above the colonel. He should be able to put an end to this ridiculous man’s antics and yet the outspoken but charming colonel made him feel… something indescribable. 

“I long to dance again with you, my lord. I hope you do not make me wait – I am an impatient man.” The colonel smirked at the end of their dance, before strutting away. 

Miles’ face was still hot, the dance leaving him quite breathless. He tried to catch his breath, but the sheer number of people in the room made it difficult to do so.

He had to leave, lest he faint.

***

To the best of her memory, the last time the militia visited Aldercombe was at least 3 years ago, around the time when Maya had newly entered society. She remembered her sister, Mia, enjoying a dance or two with a stunning female officer, and Mia had talked about Private Skye for length in the weeks and months following the militia’s visit. 

Maya had to admit, she did not really fancy soldiers. Sure, they were fit and there was something admirable about their patriotism, but they never seemed more than a fleeting fancy when they visited – causing more havoc in the towns they visited, than against whichever enemy England warred with. More than one young lady or gentleman, under the belief of love, was persuaded to elope with a soldier to Gretna Green on the Scottish/English border where one could be married nearly immediately and without parental consent. Maya suspected that Mia herself had considered such an option, the way she had talked about Private Skye.

There were so many people in the Fletcher’s sizeable drawing-room-turned-ballroom that it was surprisingly hot. Fanning herself, Maya stood against the wall looking out for the person she longed the most to see – the countess. The viscount was similarly standing against the wall opposite herself, seemingly fixated on watching Phoenix dance with that rakish colonel. Lord Edgeworth’s presence meant that Lady Franziska could not be far away. 

On that thought, Maya watched as Lady Franziska entered the room with Lady Andrews on her arm. The two did look good tonight – the countess in a striped chocolate-brown gown, and Lady Andrews in a deep blue. Lady Franziska nodded at Maya, who curtsied her acknowledgement from afar, while Lady Andrews merely glared at her. 

Honestly, the nerve of this woman. Maya did not know what Lady Franziska saw in her – she had been nothing but rude to Maya, her lack of common courtesy was extremely unbecoming. Determined to be civil, Maya made her way over to the pair.

“Lady Franziska, Lady Andrews,” The latter name she said with an edge of ice, “It is lovely to see you both tonight.”

Lady Franziska curtsied deeply, Lady Andrews giving a quick curtsy, “It is good to see you as well, my lady,” the countess greeted, “I trust you are well?”

“Well as I can be. It is very stifling in this room.” Maya fanned herself. 

“I do not find it so very hot,” Lady Andrews sniffed, “I find I am not so affected by temperatures, so long as I am diverted by the company of those I prefer.” She smiled sweetly at the countess. It took every ounce of self-control for Maya not to roll her eyes. 

“Then you are lucky, dear Adrian, for I too find it surprisingly warm tonight.” Lady Franziska patted her partner’s arm.

Already exhausted with the saccharine nature of Lady Andrews, Maya turned the conversation towards her main goal, “I was wondering if I would have the honour of dancing with you later this evening, Lady Franziska.”

The countess made to open her mouth, but Lady Andrews was too quick.

“Lady Franziska and I are dancing the first three dances together,” Lady Andrews stated plainly, “I do not think there will be space on my lady’s dance card after that.”

Though the countess looked at her sharply for speaking out of turn, she made no move to correct the statement. 

“Oh, I see,” sighed Maya.

“In fact,” Lady Andrews continued, “I intend to spend the night by my lady’s side.” She looked at the countess with a gleam in her eye, “I rather think, Lady Maya, that your attentions are better spent elsewhere.”

Despair struck through Maya like lightning at the sight and thought of Lady Adrian staying by Lady Franziska’s side for the whole night. Of course, Lady Franziska was not officially attached to herself or Lady Adrian, but this was as good as confirmation of her affections. 

Maya thought her heart would split in two if she remained in conversation or in view of them any longer. She stiffly curtsied her farewell to the pair, decidedly ignoring the countess’ almost apologetic expression. It was far too warm in this room and Maya decided, as she hastily exited the drawing room, that the heat must be making her eyes water. 

***

Phoenix cautiously returned to the crowded drawing room and adjacent areas, thankfully seeing the colonel occupied as he danced with a young lady who looked pitifully foolish enough to be drawn in by his sweet words. As he glanced over the room, he frowned. Lady Franziska was dancing with Lady Andrews, but a look across each of the walls of the room told him that the viscount was nowhere to be seen. That couldn’t have been right, the viscount had been right there against the wall as the colonel had danced all around Phoenix. 

A continued look around the room showed no signs of the baroness, which was particularly odd.

Young as she was, Maya was determined to show that she was every bit the baroness that her sister and mother had been. She would never just slip out of a room for fear that others would notice and think her unsuitable in her station or ill-mannered. A quick check outside told him that she had not taken the carriage home. 

Phoenix sighed as he started searching the nearby rooms for wherever Maya may have escaped to. There were some locked rooms that Phoenix hoped had been locked by the Fletchers, and not overzealous couples (though he’d rather prefer not to know either way). No one would hide in the servant’s quarters so Phoenix could easily rule them, and the locked rooms, out of the picture. As he made his way around the ground floor of the Fletcher’s house, each open room he found was empty. With one room left, he certainly hoped he would find her in there, else his search would have to be taken outside to the grounds.

He pushed the door gently open to find a small and rather mediocre study-come-library, with a familiar face sitting in an armchair, reading a book by dim candlelight.

Lord Edgeworth. 

The stream of light that entered the study alerted the viscount to the presence of another person.

“Ah!” The viscount practically jumped, snapping the book closed hurriedly, before composing himself and opening the book again, “W-Wright! Forgive me, I feared you were Colonel Lang.”

“Oh no, do not tell me he asked you to dance as well,” Phoenix groaned, closing the door behind him, as the viscount nodded grimly. 

“If the man was not so well connected within the militia and charisma did not appear to ooze out of his very pores, I would call him a sleaze – youngest colonel in the army, or not.” Lord Edgeworth huffed, “As it is, his reputation for rakish charms is entirely accurate. And yet…”

“And yet?” Phoenix echoed, astonished at the sudden softness in the viscount’s voice.

“His words… the way he makes a person feel… acknowledged, as if there is no-one else in the world...” The viscount whispered before shaking his head dismissively, “In any case, I found the crowd – and the whole room – stifling and was in need of preferred company.” He held up the book.

“Another pleasant way to spend the evening, though I’m sure it pales in comparison to your preferred Japanese books,” Phoenix grinned to the viscount’s rueful nod. 

“Any book is better than a rakish colonel, of that I am convinced.” He smiled at Phoenix – a real, genuine, smile that seemed to warm Phoenix from his head down to his toes. Phoenix tried to shrug the feeling off, he knew this man wasn’t interested in him. 

“So what brought you here?” Lord Edgeworth inquired, “You looked on the hunt for something, or… someone?”

“Searching for the baroness,” Phoenix nodded, “I could not see her in the crowds and Lady Franziska seemed occupied with Lady Andrews.”

The viscount grunted a tone of dislike, almost reflexively. 

“You dislike Lady Andrews?”

“Not entirely,” Lord Edgeworth hesitated, “But the woman seems far too desperate to favour the attention of my sister.”

“I agree. Though it does not appear as though the countess dislikes the attention.”

“I cannot argue with that.” The viscount answered grimly.

“Anyway, I have not found Maya in any of the rooms downstairs and I do not think it likely that she would have escaped to the family rooms upstairs.” Phoenix sighed at length. 

“I… am sorry I cannot offer any advice.” The viscount studied Phoenix, who rested on the heavy desk in the centre of the study. 

“Please, do not trouble yourself for my sake. She has not left for home at least, so she may be wandering outside in the grounds. At least she will be away from the colonel’s attentions if she is.” Phoenix looked out the window, as if he hoped to spot Maya immediately, slumping slightly when she did not materialise. He looked back at the now closed wooden door, with half a mind to thank the viscount for their brief interaction and resume his search, if the viscount hadn’t cleared his throat.

“I-” Lord Edgeworth faltered, “I have been thinking on our last conversation.”

Phoenix turned sharply to look at the viscount in confusion, “Our last conversation?”

“Yes, at the last ball, when you asked me what I would do now that I will remain in Highcroft.”

“Oh... you mean, other than resolutely avoiding matrimony?” Phoenix could not help but jab lightly, much to the mild shock of the viscount.

“Uh, well,” He said uneasily, “I thought you should know that I’ve… always dreamt of studying the law.” He said in hushed tones, in the comfortable silence within the study. 

Phoenix gasped in awe, “At Oxford, right?”

The viscount nodded, “It has always been a dream of mine, and my father’s. I was destined to go there once I had finished my studies at school, or at least I was until my father died.”

Phoenix didn’t quite know what to say. 

“I do not know if my studying law is definite now, but your words made me think, and I have been considering applying for a course of study. I would like to at least try, rather than regretting it for the rest of my life.” Lord Edgeworth thought aloud, “Though I am unsure as to whether it is worth pursuing the study of the law at Oxford in the first place. I do not need the income, as a viscount, and studying only to obtain an honourary qualification feels… cheap.”

“What stopped you before? I would have thought you’d have had every opportunity in Carlisle.”

“The Count Von Karma.” Lord Edgeworth sneered, “I expressed my wish and intent to study the law, to be instituted as a barrister, some 8 years ago. Within a fortnight of my telling him, he insisted there were errands for me to run, duties to fulfil which he was suddenly unable to complete himself. He always kept me within a day’s ride of Carlisle, with never a moment free to leave for, or even travel to, Oxford. Then he bestowed the title upon me, presumably so that I would not need to study – for with the title came money, thus, making the pursuit of study redundant.”

“And now that he has passed…”

“I am free, in a sense.” Lord Edgeworth finished with a sigh, as Phoenix watched the man. He seemed to grapple with himself, though Phoenix could not hope to understand whatever inner turmoil the viscount experienced.

“I must say, keeping a leash on you, even obtaining a title for you, so that you would not have to study at Oxford is… well, it is manipulative to say the least.” Phoenix muttered.

“I-” The viscount faltered, “That is true, I suppose. I am not ungrateful for the opportunities, but-”

“-you’ve changed as a result.” Phoenix finished for him, a hint of sadness in his voice. “It has not escaped my notice that he did much to shape who you are today, to make you so very different from the boy I knew you as.”

The sadness in Phoenix’s voice seemed to surprise Lord Edgeworth, though Phoenix could not help it. The refined, collected, educated viscount who sat in front of him was so different, almost painfully so, to his childhood friend, who dreamed of a different education and had been joyful, almost unrestrained and would never be so reserved in himself.

“Yes.” The viscount admitted, “Count Von Karma had a high standard of how to conduct oneself from the day I arrived in Ashwick Hall.”

“And that high standard included concealing all emotion?” Phoenix couldn’t help but point out, as Lord Edgeworth scoffed.

“There was no explanation for his methods or his rules, but I was merely a child. Ask yourself, Wright, what could I have done but obey his rules?” He challenged, looking Phoenix fiercely in the eye.

“I… do not know,” Phoenix admitted bitterly, as he held the viscount’s gaze stubbornly, “But permit me to appreciate how my childhood friend seems to have changed in the blink of an eye, in contrast to my own memories.”

“Whereas you are exactly as I remember you,” The viscount countered softly, “Just as joyful, just as free…” He trailed off, with some painful awareness that Phoenix was staring at him now. 

To think that the viscount had thought about him over the years, was unexpected to say the least.

“Well,” Phoenix chirped brightly, determined to change the topic away from reminiscence, “at least if you do decide to study, you are much closer to Oxford from here in any case – a good half day’s ride on horseback.” Phoenix smiled supportively. 

“Uh, yes,” Lord Edgeworth gulped, before paleing somewhat with a shudder. 

“My lord?” Phoenix asked tentatively, “Are you well?”

“O-Of course,” the viscount swallowed with difficulty, “I beg you, give me a moment to compose myself.”

Phoenix nodded, watching the viscount carefully as he took some deep breaths, steadying himself. Colour seemed to return to his cheeks. 

“May I ask-”

“You may not.” Lord Edgeworth answered curtly as Phoenix cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Forgive me, my lord, I did not mean to… cause you any offense or grief.” 

The viscount just sighed, “The fault is not yours, though I do not wish to speak of it. Please, let us talk on another topic.” Lord Edgeworth suggested to Phoenix’s surprise – they had danced a handful of times and the viscount had never been so inclined for conversation. Yet in this quiet study, with just the two of them, there was more conversation than Phoenix had heard since the start of the social season,

“...What do you suggest?”

“What about yourself?” 

“Pardon, my lord?”

“What do you do with your time, as owner of Elmridge House? Are you matrimonially inclined?”

“Well, perhaps I am,” Phoenix answered with a sly grin, “But if I am honest, I… enjoy art. Drawing and painting has always been an interest of mine.”

Lord Edgeworth made a sound of surprise, “Do you draw, or paint, often?”

“Most of the empty time in my days is spent drawing objects around my house, or painting the grounds around Elmridge House and Fey Manor.” Phoenix blushed, “You may recall that there is a watercolour of Fey Manor in the drawing room.”

The viscount nodded as Phoenix gave a mock bow, “Yours truly.”

“I thought the piece had been commissioned by a professional in London.” Lord Edgeworth marvelled at the recollection. 

“Please, I am not half so good as the trained artists from the Royal Academy.” Phoenix disputed bashfully, “I just… paint or draw what I see. I doubt it would be good enough for a gallery.”

“Would you paint a portrait if it was commissioned?” The viscount inquired suddenly and seriously.

“That would depend on the subject.” Phoenix said playfully.

“Me.” The viscount declared, “I would commission you to paint a portrait of me… if you would.”

The declaration of the request and the seriousness of its nature was wholly unexpected to Phoenix, but he blurted out the answer before his brain caught up to him.

“It would be my honour, my lord.”

The viscount smiled that genuine smile, satisfaction plain on his face, and the two of them sat in very pleasant silence anon in the study, before the study door cracked open and a face peered at the pair of them before disappearing quickly. 

“Maya?! Maya, wait!” Phoenix gasped, “Forgive me, Lord Edgeworth.” 

He rushed out of the room with a quick bow to find the baroness, leaving the viscount to his book. 

***

“Maya!” Phoenix finally caught her attention as she made to walk outside the grounds. 

“Oh. Phoenix.” She said rather disheartened.

“Hey, where did you go? I went searching for you.”

“Forgive me,” She mumbled, “I should not have intruded. I fear my head is not well tonight. I thought some air would do me good, but… alas…”

He had never seen her so down and in such a state, but he had a strong suspicion what, or rather who, had caused a reaction.

“I shall take you home. Let me call the carriage and give my apologies to the Fletchers.” Phoenix comforted her and she nodded with very little movement, “I’ll be brief.” He squeezed her hands before calling to the footmen to bring the carriage around for the baroness and dashing inside.

The carriage was brought with haste, with the footman helping Maya into the plush coach.

“My lady?” A familiar voice said strongly from the entrance of the house, as Maya turned to it. 

The countess strode over to the coach as quick as her legs could carry her. There was no Lady Andrews in sight… yet. Maya made no effort to move from her seat, and the countess stood in the doorway of the coach as she conversed. 

“Are… are you unwell, my lady, to be leaving so soon?” Lady Franziska’s words were polite but concern rippled through her voice.

“I… Yes, I am afraid I am not well.” Maya replied, her desire for conversation waning with every second.

“I am very sorry to hear that,” The countess commiserated, “I… had hoped we could… but never mind.”

Maya watched the countess carefully.

“Do you fancy Lady Andrews?” Her words were soft, but the surprise on the countess’ face told her she had heard them clear as crystal.

“I… I believe so.” The countess admitted softly, “But I should still like to enjoy your company all the same, if the opportunity arises.”

“Then it is a shame the opportunity does not present itself tonight.” Maya said rather bluntly, turning to face the window and ending the conversation. The countess turned back to the house, not without passing Phoenix in the process.

“My lady,” He bowed in passing.

“Mr. Wright,” She curtsied, “I hope you see that Lady Maya receives every attention while she is unwell. I would be most displeased if she was unable to attend our ball in two day’s time.” Her steely gaze lingered on his, before she continued back to the house.

Seating himself in the coach, they pulled away from the Fletcher estate. Phoenix looked at Maya, “Seems the countess is concerned about you, at least.”

“Not enough to stand up to that Lady Andrews.” Maya grumbled, “She snubbed me, Phoenix! Me, a baroness!”

“The countess did nothing?” Phoenix asked, astonished.

“Oh, she looked at her sharply, but no reprimand of any kind.” Maya huffed, “What a lady, to have such poor manners and so desperately pursue after a countess.” She crossed her arms, looking on the verge of tears. 

“I don’t think anyone could fault you for being upset at the poor manners of another,” Phoenix started, soothingly.

“No, but I acted like a child,” Maya began to sob, “I ran away and escaped outside to hide away like a little girl” She sniffed, tears streaming down her face, “I like this woman, Phoenix and I couldn’t even handle the possibility that her affections lay elsewhere!”

Phoenix reached for her hand, in an attempt to console her. 

“Now, Maya, all is not lost.” He murmured, “There may still be hope yet. Lady Andrews could insult the countess. The countess could realise that Lady Andrews has the same manners as a pickle. Lady Andrews could… fall and break a leg, never to dance again and then the countess would have to court you.” He jested, to Maya’s tearful laughter. 

“The latter of those I think is highly unlikely,” Maya wiped her eyes, “But no, I think the countess does not fancy me. And I shall have to live with that.”

The countess’ words to Phoenix sat on his tongue, but he dare not speak them and give her false hope instead. The ride back to their estates was completed in silence.

Chapter Text

“Lord, what a night,” Franziska exclaimed the next morning as she strolled into the breakfast room to Miles, reading the newspaper, “I suppose we should have been grateful to even have received an invite from the Fletcher’s, but it was far too crowded in that ball. A foolish choice on the host’s part.” 

She sat beside her brother to pour herself some tea, a plate of eggs and toast with butter already waiting for her,

“I noticed even the great dancer, Mr. Wright, did not dance for long.”

Miles tutted, “Or perhaps, that was the work of a certain colonel.”

“Oh? I am sure I did not pay much attention to the militia. They do cause chaos wherever they go.” Franziska sipped her tea, “But I noticed you danced with the colonel yourself, little brother.”

“Against my better judgement, in hindsight.” Miles huffed, “The man is entirely too charming and it is far too easy to feel like prey when one is in conversation with him...”

“And yet?” Franziska inquired nonchalantly.

Miles glared at her, refusing to rise to the bait. He would not inform her that the colonel’s rakish smile had infested his dreams, his crooning compliments repeating themselves to no end. She smiled to herself in the silence, clearly believing she had won their little exchange.

“You seemed entirely focused on Lady Andrews last night.” Miles turned a page rather pointedly, “What do you see in that woman anyway?”

Franziska chewed her toast thoughtfully, “I like a woman who is plain in her intention. There has never been any doubt as to Adrian’s affection for me.”

“As opposed to…?” Miles looked at her with suspicion.

“Look, little brother, I have two perfectly agreeable ladies who are interested in me, of whom I will only be able to choose one to court, marry, and start a family.” Franziska focused on her breakfast as she spoke, “If one is more outspoken than the other, then perhaps that is my preference. At least there is no questioning her goals or motivations.”

Miles rustled his paper again, settling back in his chair. Franziska pursed her lips together, 

“Miles Edgeworth, I am also in no doubt of your thoughts regarding Lady Andrews, but hear me now – I intend to court the woman. And, since you are not the one courting her, you can keep your glares and opinions entirely to yourself.” She sniffed, before resuming her eggs. 

***

Phoenix had half expected to be turned away when he came to call on Maya the next afternoon, presuming that the baroness would have spent the day in bed with this ‘illness’. Instead, he was escorted into her drawing room where he found her lounging on a chaise, reading one of her samurai books. 

“M-Maya.” He greeted her with surprise, “I thought you would have stayed in bed after… last night.” He said rather weakly. 

“The thought occurred to me,” Maya acknowledged, gesturing for Phoenix to sit with her, “But then I thought I might be better off having a good cry as I went to bed, and then putting my mind to other things. I am determined not to let Lady Andrews get to me.”

Phoenix’s mouth hung agape. Her actions demonstrated a sense of mental fortitude which  disguised the fact that this was the baroness’ first true romantic entanglement.

“And what do you plan to do today?” 

“Well I have already been for my morning walk, which did wonders for my head,” Maya nodded, “and reading these books always gives me comfort. I think I might go into town later, and see if they have any new fabrics in the modiste.”

Phoenix frowned.

“Oh, not for the Highcroft ball,” She laughed, “Though that would be something – to have a gown especially made for an event to spur a rival.” 

She grinned mischievously before seeing Phoenix raise his eyebrows at her. She cleared her throat, embarrassed, “Again, not my design. I simply think a little dress shopping is good for a lady.”

“Well, if you are in need of company – except for the modiste, that is – you need only ask.”

“Since you’ve offered, how was your dance with the colonel last night? Or you can tell me what you were doing with Lord Edgeworth in that study – I hope you weren’t causing a scandal.” She smiled mischievously.

Phoenix spluttered, “T-That was not what I meant by my offer of company!”

“Ah, but you wouldn’t deny a lady in her hour of need,” Maya placed her hand to her forehead dramatically, “Please, Phoenix, amuse me.”

With a long, reluctant sigh, “Dancing with the colonel was incredibly… confusing.”

“Ooh, unrequited love?” Maya gasped.

“Quite the opposite,” Phoenix grimaced, “The man put so much attention into praising me and lavishing me with compliments. He even went so far to whisper in my ear when we danced,”

“Oh!” Maya’s shocked gasp echoed in the room.

“I think any person would be easily swept away by the colonel’s charms. Instead, as we danced, when I too perhaps should have felt infatuated with the colonel, I instead had the distinct feeling that none of it meant anything,” Phoenix pondered, “I only felt disappointed that I was being treated like a plaything. There was no genuine interest, and all in all, I found the man quite obnoxious.” 

Maya hummed with dissatisfaction, “I had hoped for greater news than that. Though I suppose he is known to be a rakish, unmarried, colonel..”

“Yes,” Phoenix mused, “He even danced with Lord Edgeworth, you know.”

“Now that is amusing,” Maya piped up, “How did they look, on the dancefloor? I imagine they would have made a handsome pair at the very least.”

“I didn’t watch them,” Phoenix shook his head, “The viscount told me himself.”

A gleam came into Maya’s eyes, “He did, did he? I suppose he told you while you were holed away in that study.” She watched him knowingly, as a small blush crept onto Phoenix’s cheeks. 

When he said nothing in response, she smiled, “I will not pry, but it is good to hear you are talking to one another, at least. I feared that you may never reconnect in the end.”

“Well, as it happens, he is to stay in Highcroft even after the countess returns to Carlisle,” Phoenix reasoned, “So it would be ridiculous to avoid reconnecting when we will be neighbours as you and I.”

“Yes, neighbours indeed.” Maya smirked.

***

If anyone else had noticed the early departure of Maya and Phoenix at the Fletcher’s ball, there had been no word of it. Phoenix supposed Colonel Lang was good for something in that respect. The talk of the town quickly shifted from the buzz of the militia, to the new courtship between the Countess Von Karma and Lady Andrews. 

It had been reported that the afternoon following the Fletcher’s ball, Lady Franziska had called on Lady Adrian with a bouquet of romantic red carnations – not so declarative of love as roses, but meaningful all the same and symbolic of her affection. The town was abuzz with the news, and everyone was especially eager to see the pair at the inaugural Highcroft ball the next night. Countess Von Karma was determined to make an impression on her temporary neighbours in Aldercombe, and every family and person out in society was invited. 

Destined to be a grand affair, Maya called for the plush coach to escort them to the ball as Maya and Phoenix attended in their very best clothes. Maya, in a striking deep red, Japanese silk dress with deep viridian jade beads adorning her hair; Phoenix in his best black tailcoat. As the carriages pulled up at Highcroft, it seemed everyone was of a similar mind – equally determined to impress the countess and viscount, and it was a spectacle of fashion from the ladies who attended. 

As hosts, the countess and viscount greeted each guest in the large entrance room. The countess was a splendid vision in forest green silk satin, with a stunning diamond necklace at her throat, and the viscount’s classic burgundy tailcoat was naturally his choice of attire. Phoenix and Maya presented themselves to their hosts, with Lady Franziska and Lord Edgeworth bowing/curtsying deeply. 

“Lady Maya, Mr. Wright,” The countess greeted them both, “It is a pleasure to see you attend, and it warms my heart that you have recovered, Lady Maya.” Lady Franziska particularly smiled with warmth at Maya, and Phoenix noted Maya’s cheeks tinged with more pink than the subtle rouge she had applied. 

“I… thank you, my lady, and my congratulations on your courtship with Lady Andrews.” Maya replied slowly as the countess nodded.

“I-, yes, I thank you,” The countess curtsied again.

“Wright, I… Would you do me the honour of having the first dance?” Though he addressed Phoenix directly, the viscount’s eyes did not quite meet his own. Phoenix couldn’t deny the brief flutter in his chest at the words spoken, but he knew they couldn’t mean much.

“It would be an honour, my lord,” Phoenix bowed his thanks, before he and Maya made to move further into the house, following the crowd to the stately ballroom. 

A quick glance over the crowd told Phoenix that the militia had arrived, but he could not see the colonel. Relief swam over him, along with the realisation that the colonel couldn’t possibly ask him for the first dance in the first place since he had promised that to Lord Edgeworth. Phoenix couldn’t see Lady Andrews either, though he suspected she would be lingering in the entrance hall in view of the countess anyway. 

Before long, the countess called for the first dance, and the couples took their place. Lady Franziska with Lady Andrews as the lead couple, and Lord Edgeworth with Phoenix beside them as second. After all their conversation in the study, Lord Edgeworth did not seem prone to conversation when he danced, but Phoenix was determined to have some conversation for fear that he may falter under the viscount’s hold. 

“I see the militia are in attendance,” Phoenix rambled, “The colonel will be pestering us for dances, I am sure.”

Lord Edgeworth chuckled, “What makes you think he has not already?”

“Then I give my condolences,” Phoenix commiserated, “But then why are you not dancing with the colonel first, the militia arrived before I did.”

The viscount looked at him, a slight rueful twinkle in his eye.

“You saved the first dance… for me?” Phoenix breathed, the flutter in his chest growing against his better judgement.

“I would much rather dance with you first, than the colonel. Though he has secured the next dance with me – I thought I could not convince him that I was so taken for two dances.” 

Phoenix determinedly did not meet the viscount’s gaze at this. How had the conversation already made him so flustered?

“Well, I am sure it is only a matter of time before I, too, am ambushed.”

Lord Edgeworth seemed to study him, “You could do a lot worse for a dance partner than the colonel, surely.”

“Of course, but I doubt any other dance partner is going to be so forward as to whisper into my ear as we dance. I would be very glad if I make it through tonight without dancing with the colonel.” He grumbled. 

The viscount chuckled softly, “You would go so far to avoid a man for the whole night, knowing you would potentially offend him in doing so?”

“It’s not my intention to offend him outright,” Phoenix defended himself, “But I do not think we are well-matched and any interaction we do have – well I do not know what will happen. In any case, if I can avoid talking to him, then I will be satisfied.”

“Then I wish you all the luck in the world.” Lord Edgeworth conceded, though he looked unsure of Phoenix’s strong dislike for the colonel, “You could always spur the colonel by dancing with someone like, Private Gumshoe, for instance.” 

The pair of them looked at Private Gumshoe, who danced with a Miss Byrd, and seemed to manage to step on both of her feet, to the chagrin of both dancers. Phoenix looked back at Lord Edgeworth, grimacing, much to the viscount’s amusement. The dance shortly over, the viscount escorted Phoenix off the dance floor where, lo and behold, awaited the colonel. 

“Mr. Wright, my dear Lord Edgeworth,” The man bowed so low, Phoenix felt his head may hit the ground, “You outdo us all with your excellent display of dance, but it is now my turn with the handsome viscount.”

Both men looked at the colonel in silence as Lord Edgeworth gave the colonel his hand and they made their way to join Lady Franziska and Lady Andrews in the next dance.

Phoenix couldn’t help but watch the dance with a distasteful eye. The dark look in the colonel’s eyes was aggravating, and even the way he held the viscount as they moved felt damnable. The colonel didn’t once take his eyes off of Lord Edgeworth, and Lord Edgeworth’s cheeks were pink as a morning sunrise. It only exacerbated Phoenix’s dislike of the colonel, that he would persuade the poor viscount to dance with him when it clearly made Lord Edgeworth uncomfortable. At the conclusion of the dance, the colonel bowed as low as he could whilst still managing to hold the viscount’s gaze, before leading him back over to where Phoenix was leaning against the wall. Phoenix had been too preoccupied with watching the viscount dance, that he hadn’t been prepared for-

“Come, Mr. Wright, I must have you dance the next with me.” He held out his hand expectantly, the glimmer in his eyes telling Phoenix that he would not accept no as an answer. 

Phoenix sighed, silently cursing himself for being so transfixed watching the viscount dance, that he had not found himself more dance partners. It was far too late to make an excuse not to dance, and he should have known it would have been unrealistic to hope to avoid the man for the whole night. He could only hope that this would be their single dance of the night.

“I… thank you,” He replied politely, with an air of defeat. He looked at Lord Edgeworth with a silent “wish me luck” before taking the colonel’s hand, as the next piece of amusement in his night, to be led back to the dance floor. To his credit, the colonel decided not to whisper in Phoenix’s ear this time, but his conversation was just as forward. 

“You look very well, tonight, Wright.” The saccharine-sweet tone of his voice crooned as they stepped towards each other.

“And you.” 

“Not in the mood for conversation?” The colonel asked at Phoenix’s short reply.

“I simply prefer to enjoy this dance.” Phoenix answered curtly, determined to lose himself in the music. It worked for a time, they had moved into the second half of the dance before the colonel addressed him again.

“I must ask, is there something between you and the viscount?” He asked as they circled each other, hand in hand. 

“W-What?” Phoenix spluttered, “What on earth do you mean, Colonel Lang?”

The colonel shrugged, “I believe myself to be an observant man, and you two seem… close, especially in the way you dance, and that the viscount saved the first dance for you, despite you both telling me you were unattached. So I want to know if there is an agreement between you two that I should be aware of., if my time has been wasted.” His tone became serious, and not without a threatening edge to it. 

“Colonel Lang,” Phoenix’s shock was replaced by an equally serious tone, “What I told you the other night was true. I have no attachment to anyone, especially Lord Edgeworth – we merely grew up together here in Aldercombe as boys before he moved to Carlisle with family. We are old friends, that is all.”

“Hmph, and he has now returned to do what? Merely reacquaint himself with a childhood friend? It seems to me the handsome viscount could have whoever he wanted.”

“If that were the case, then the viscount would likely be attached with great speed to that person upon his return, yes? As it is, he only returned to accompany his sister, the countess. We have barely spoken and only danced a handful of times.” Phoenix asserted sternly, “I assure you, neither the viscount nor myself are attached. You are mistaken.”

The dance called for them to turn away and weave between other couples, giving Phoenix a brief respite from the sudden intensity, while the colonel seemed thoughtful.

“Forgive me, Colonel, but if you simply wish to ask about the viscount and I, why go to the effort to ask me to dance?” Phoenix probed, “You danced with the viscount already, and I presume you asked the same question. Did you find his answer insufficient?”

“My reasons are mine alone, as are my reasons to dance with you. I need not tell you of my conversation with Lord Edgeworth. Besides,” His brief scowl turned to a wolfish grin, “I’ve heard you are an excellent dancer, and what they say is true. You do move… beautifully, no matter who your partner is.” 

Phoenix supposed the smile was meant to look handsome or alluring, but the facade did not work on him and only sent shivers up his spine. Instead he pursed his lips, the music indicating that the dance was nearing its end. With the dancers applauding the musicians on its conclusion, Phoenix could not help but internally flinch as the colonel took his hand to lead him back to where they had left the viscount. The colonel’s words and actions had irked him so much that Phoenix could no longer tolerate it.

“Whatever your intentions are here in Aldercombe, Colonel,” Phoenix uttered in a voice that only Lang could hear, “I do not wish to be part of it.”

“Oh, please, Wright,” The colonel protested, “We have had a little conversation and danced twice together. You do not even know my intentions. How can you make such a statement when I have barely said anything?”

“You’ve given plenty away,” Phoenix muttered, as Lord Edgeworth came within range of their conversation, “You flirt, and croon, with anyone who is handsome enough for you, but none of it is real. You do not hold any real feelings for the people here; it is clear we are merely your amusement. And I will not be part of it.”

Lord Edgeworth raised his eyebrows at this while Colonel Lang flinched with a snarl, “You believe yourself to be clever.”

“I believe you to be exactly as you are – a rakish, young colonel who toys with affection.” Phoenix said coolly. 

Lang shrugged indifferently, “As is my reputation.”

“Then I’ll thank you to keep myself, and the viscount for that matter, firmly out of your rakish grasp.” Phoenix found himself declaring rather quickly.

That seemed to take the colonel aback, “Hold on now, Mr. Wright! I don’t know what has brought on your seething opinion, but let us not drag the beautiful viscount into this petty grievance.” Lang sidled up to Lord Edgeworth with a cocky grin on his face, “I rather think the viscount rather enjoys my company, otherwise he would not have agreed to dance in the first place, don’t you think, my lord?”

Lord Edgeworth froze, “Well… I-”

“Enough of that, Colonel.” Phoenix snapped, “I do not wish to dance with you again tonight, and though I cannot speak for the viscount, I believe his duties as host tonight will preclude him from spending the whole night dancing or otherwise ‘entertained’ by your forward affections.”

The colonel choked out a laugh of disbelief, “And what say you on this, Lord Edgeworth?” 

The viscount seemed to study the colonel with a steely glare, and gave only a small nod of affirmation.

“...Fine.” The colonel scowled, as he looked at Phoenix and Lord Edgeworth. 

“My Lord Edgeworth,” He bowed deeply, “Mr. Wright,” The words were snarled, and punctuated tersely with the slightest tilt of the colonel’s head, in the minimum amount of respect to be shown to a person, before he stalked away.

“Wright, you-” Lord Edgeworth breathed, incredulous, “That was…”

“Necessary?” Phoenix suggested.

“If not on the verge of being rude.” The viscount was stunned, “If he had been of a higher station-”

“He would not act the way he does.” Phoenix huffed, “He suspected we were… an item. But he seemed more angry that we had both informed him we were unattached when his observation of us apparently told him otherwise.”

“He what?” The viscount choked.

“In any regard, I was tired of his facade.” Phoenix dismissed the viscount’s shock, not wishing to restate the conversation to the man in front of him. They both looked across the room at the colonel, who was talking to a young lady, a thunderous shadow across his face. 

“I fear you may now be an enemy of the colonel.” Lord Edgeworth observed.

Phoenix chuckled, “I would do it again. Besides, the regiment will move on in just over a month, and we shall never see the colonel again. Though, I suspect the colonel will make his presence still known to you as long as the militia are in town. I did not want to entirely speak for you, if you did have feelings- I mean, were interested, or-”

“Wright.” Lord Edgeworth cut him off, “It is quite alright. I am grateful that there will be less crooning compliments in my ear tonight.” He smiled at Phoenix, who returned it tenfold.

***

As he smiled at Wright, Miles was struck with a sense of wonder and awe. 

He had not been around Phoenix Wright in years. The most conversation they had ever had had been in the Fletchers’ study three nights ago, and yet this man was willing to incite the colonel’s ire and potential fury because he would not tolerate such a facade. Even more, he was willing to do the same on Miles behalf and if Miles hadn’t been such a frozen idiot and spoken his mind when Lang confronted him, then Miles himself would likely be dealing with the ire of the colonel as well. At least he had the presence of mind to nod his agreement with Wright. In truth, Miles didn’t know what he had done, or whether he had done anything, to deserve such actions of integrity, but he knew that he could not lose his friendship with this man. A friend like Phoenix was worth holding on to. But when he was around Wright, warm memories of dances and quiet conversations in a study pleasantly filled his head, instead of wolfish grins and excessive compliments.

As for his feelings on the colonel, Miles was still unsure how to comprehend his interactions with Colonel Lang. The colonel’s words continued to dance in his head most nights – no one had ever uttered such compliments to Miles. To hear of another’s appreciation for his figure, his smile, his dancing, his wit – there was a strange burst of happiness that bloomed inside him with each phrase. Though he could not deny the subtle undertone of insincerity that laced most words from the colonel’s crooning mouth, Miles had not minded. As he had told Wright, he was not focused on matrimony at the present and he had wanted to be distracted while Franziska found her future wife, and the colonel certainly distracted him even if it made him uncomfortable to be the object of such praise. It was meaningless anyway, for once the militia departed for Plymouth within a month, and life would return to normal and Miles would return to being pleasantly distracted by his childhood friend. 

Aware he had been staring intensely at Wright, Miles looked over at the dance floor. Franziska was sitting out for the third dance with Lady Andrews was dancing instead with an unfamiliar lady, dressed in maroon with her curled mousy-brown hair bouncing as she moved. The unfamiliar lady smiled brightly, as did Lady Andrews. 

Franziska did not seem bothered by Lady Andrews’ dancing with another, and Miles concluded that the pair must be friends. They must be, otherwise Franziska would have been hysterical since she and Lady Adrian were now courting, and the attentions of another would be scandalous, to say the least. Miles had been entirely unsurprised that they were now courting so soon after Franziska told him of her feelings – once her mind was set on something she was not easily dissuaded and, as per her request, Miles resigned to keeping his opinions on Lady Adrian to himself. 

“So, Lady Franziska is courting Lady Andrews now,” Wright murmured as they watched the couples dancing.

“Yes,” Miles confirmed, “Though she is not the sister-in-law I had envisioned, they seem to make each other happy, and that is what matters. Still… I am sorry for the baroness.”

Wright nodded, “She took it bracingly, but I have no doubt that deep inside she is at least a little heartbroken.”

Miles could not easily say he’d fallen in love, or been heartbroken himself, but the very word ‘heartbroken’ evoked a sad, crushing feeling that Miles found himself desperately wishing to avoid. It was an unnecessary thought, for romance was not immediately on his mind. But he looked at his childhood friend, who watched the dancing enraptured – a man who had said that he himself perhaps was considering matrimony -  and his heart ached at the thought of Wright with another man, loving another man. 

“Will you dance with me, again?” Miles found himself blurting out.

Wright looked at him with mild surprise, “Of course, my lord.” He bowed his acceptance, and Miles couldn’t help but smile.

***

The viscount asking him to a second dance surprised Phoenix. Surely the man would not do so if he were merely enjoying Phoenix’s company. Being asked to dance a second time would, in any other circumstance, suggest that there were romantic inclinations. Of course the first time they had danced at the Fey ball, Phoenix had asked him for an immediate second dance, but that did not count. Regardless, Phoenix knew there was another explanation – the viscount must simply be looking for a diversion from the conversation with the colonel.

He looked up the line of couples to see Lady Andrews dancing again with the mysterious lady, and Maya dancing with Lady Franziska. Both women did not look reluctant to dance, instead there was a bashful air between them. Phoenix was surprised, he had expected Lady Franziska and Lady Andrews to dance almost exclusively for the night. He could not imagine that Lady Andrews was pleased about Lady Franziska asking Maya to dance. But he would contemplate that later, for Lady Franziska had called a waltz – a new dance that some (though not Phoenix) argued put one in scandalous proximity to their partner for the duration of the dance.

He was initially startled at the placement of the viscount’s hand on his hip, as he placed a hand on Lord Edgeworth’s broad shoulder. With the other hands clasped together, there really was nowhere else to look but at Lord Edgeworth. The music began, and suddenly Phoenix was aware of how the viscount was holding him as they twirled together.

“I-I thought you rarely danced, my lord, yet it seems we cannot stop dancing at every ball we meet.” Phoenix thought aloud, finding himself once again desperate to distract himself from the lightning-like hold of the viscount.

“I… had thought so myself,” Lord Edgeworth agreed, “And yet, since my return to Aldercombe, I find that dancing is quite enjoyable… with the right partner.” 

There was suddenly a lump in Phoenix’s throat as he found it difficult to reply.

“I think I should be quite content to dance with you at nearly every ball I attend.” The viscount added quietly.

“R-Really?” Phoenix choked in surprise, “With me? Surely you’ve danced with better lords and ladies than myself.”

“But none so freely,” The viscount explained, “You dance as if the world is music and your whole body is the instrument. You are learned in dancing, yes, but the energy you exude is… well, thrilling to watch, and I have never seen anything like it.”

“I… I see.” Phoenix found himself saying amidst confusion, helplessly losing himself in the stormy grey eyes that fixed on him in wonder.

They twirled and swayed to the music, before the viscount addressed Phoenix again,

“I meant what I said the other night, about commissioning you for a portrait.” Lord Edgeworth looked at Phoenix with slight apprehension, “You are still agreeable, yes? Else it would be some time before I find another artist who would be worthy, I think.”

“But, Lord Edgeworth, you have not seen my art,” Phoenix reminded nervously, “How can you be so sure-”

“Because I know you.” The viscount answered simply, as if that were the clearest explanation possible, “Come to Highcroft next Tuesday, if you will.”

“I… Of course.” Phoenix stammered, painfully aware of his cheeks growing pinker, “I hope to make it worth your while.”

“I am certain you will.” The viscount flashed a small smile, genuine and heartfelt in its manner, thrilling Phoenix to his core.

They finished their dance gracefully, and after thanking the viscount for the dance, Phoenix excused himself for a refreshment so that he may ponder the sudden attention of the viscount in the safety of his own mind.

***

Maya was determined not to let the countess’ courtship lower her mood. She had expected it since Lady Andrews had been so rude to her a few nights prior. It had been a shock even so, but she hoped to lessen it through some dances of her own. Some of the older ladies had complimented her on her dress, and some of the lords had stumbled over their words as they asked her to dance, so she couldn’t complain about the start of the night. 

The countess surprised her all the same. 

“Lady Maya, I should like to have a dance with you.” The countess had approached her seemingly out of nowhere.

“I- What about Lady Andrews?” Maya inquired, not without a foolish amount of hope.

“She has agreed to dance again with her friend, Miss Inpax,” Franziska’s tone was not angry, but it sparked with slight jealousy.

“Then it would be my pleasure.” Maya smiled warmly, as they moved to take their place as the lead couple. Maya glanced at the other couples, noting Phoenix dancing with the viscount again. Maya thought it shocking that Lady Andrews would have agreed to another dance with someone whom she was not courting, particularly for a waltz. Nonetheless, she congratulated herself on her fortune, though she knew it would do little to change Lady Franziska’s affections.

The hold of Lady Franziska’s hand on her waist only made Maya realise that she may regret her decision to dance with the countess as the flutter of warmth alight within her chest threatened to rekindle her feelings for the countess, feelings that she was desperately burying. The gaze of the countess’ steely eyes did nothing to help either. 

“I am sorry I did not have the opportunity to dance with you the other night, my lady,” The countess murmured.

“It is quite alright,” Maya said hastily, “I fear I would not have been an adequate dance partner, I felt quite unwell.”

“Yes, it was rather warm in the ballroom as you said.” Lady Franziska recalled, “I hope this evening has been sufficient?”

“Of course! Your Ladyship hosts a splendid ball, as expected.” Maya praised genuinely, “I fear my own ball pales in comparison, but it only makes me eager to do better next season.”

“Nonsense, your ball was better than most I have seen in Carlisle!” Lady Franziska declared, “I asked my cook if he could replicate those lovely pastries you served at supper, but alas I fear his attempt was not as good as yours. I must get the recipe from your kitchen.”

“Only if you tell me where you get such beautiful decorations,” Maya agreed with a smile. 

There was a lapse in the conversation, but their sudden ease of speech gave Maya courage to continue speaking, addressing the countess as if she were a friend, and not the object of a rival love interest.

“So, when do you intend to return to Ashwick Hall with Lady Andrews?” Maya inquired as casually as possible, “Will you wait till you are wed, or leave once you are engaged?”

The casual nature seemed to throw the countess off, if only for a moment, “I… I plan to propose to Lady Andrews within a fortnight,” Maya swallowed a gasp as she declared this, “But I think we will remain in Aldercombe to be wed. Lady Andrews’ family is here, and I think she would want to be married where her family and friends are.”

“What about your own family or friends? None that would come to Aldercombe for festivities?” Maya wondered, but the countess shook her head.

“My only living relative was my papa.” Franziska stated, “In truth, I do not find myself in possession of many friends – my little brother is the closest person I know, though he does little other than vex me.” She looked over at the viscount, who danced with his gaze fixed on Phoenix.

“Sounds like you will miss him when you leave Aldercombe,” Maya said, somberly.

The countess scoffed, “Perhaps a little, but I will have a wife and, eventually, a family to help occupy my time.”

“Even so, it can be lonely to have few people to talk to outside of family.” Maya acknowledged, reflecting on her own position in Aldercombe. 

Growing up as a baroness’ daughter had meant ample tutelage under teachers and governesses, but Maya always enjoyed playing with the other children in town, even if they were ‘lower’ than her. Indeed, her friendships were what made her childhood memorable, and the deaths of her mother and sister bearable. Maya did not think she would be half the person she was without her friendships, least of all without Phoenix’s friendship. 

It sounded lonely to be a countess in Carlisle.

“Maybe,” Maya found herself thinking aloud, “We could write one another.”

“W-what?”

Maya nodded, “Write one another. That way, you would always have a friend, even if I am all the way down here in Aldercombe. I… am very fond of you, and I would be very sad to lose our friendship.”

“I, too.” The countess admitted, “I am… that is, I do not know…”

“You do not have to answer me now,” Maya said, for the countess looked quite flustered, “I only ask that you consider it.”

“Of course.” Lady Franziska promised, with a squeeze of Maya’s hand as they continued to twirl. 

Maya chose to ignore her own reddening cheeks, but could not ignore the countess’ blush as they concluded the dance.

“Thank you for the dance, my lady.” Maya curtsied deeply to the countess, who returned it in equal measure before Lady Andrews appeared at her side almost instantly.

“Lady Andrews,” Maya curtsied, “My congratulations on your courtship with Her Ladyship. May you bring her every comfort and happiness.” Maya smiled as she turned away from the smiling countess and her confused partner.

Chapter Text

It had been another quiet carriage ride home after that ball but Phoenix did not think it was due to exhaustion. He had seen Maya dancing with Lady Franziska, and though she danced with others for the rest of the night, he was sure her pink cheeks were only in memory of the countess.

He couldn’t blame her – Phoenix himself still could not understand the sudden increase of attention from the viscount. He had not said, or done, anything differently, except for his quarrel with the colonel – who seemed to relish in giving Phoenix a dark, thunderous glare anytime their eyes met. Yet, there had been such a gentility with the way the viscount had held him in the waltz, and the way that he had insisted that Phoenix had to draw his portrait, that was different to their previous interactions. Really, he made it sound like only Phoenix could draw his portrait, and that did not seem right – Phoenix must have remembered the conversation incorrectly. He could focus on scarce else for the whole night as his hip seemed to burn for the rest of the ball with the memory of the viscount’s touch.

Lady Franziska seemed to have the whole town in awe, for there were few balls in the upcoming weeks – well, few that Phoenix would attend, as he hoped to avoid a particular colonel. Phoenix was sure she would have immense satisfaction from the knowledge that her ball was brilliant, but did not doubt that she was otherwise busy – ultimately preparing to propose to Lady Andrews. Maya had echoed her words to him the morning after the ball, not without a dejected feeling as she did so. Phoenix was mildly shocked at how quickly Lady Franziska planned to propose to Lady Andrews, considering they had only officially started courting days ago, though of course the engagement would draw out for the rest of the season and likely culminating in their wedding at its conclusion. Nonetheless, Phoenix could not deny that Maya was more subdued than she usually was – he suspected that being her closest friend, he was perhaps the most observant since no one else had seemed to notice. She was happy to engage in conversation, but seemed to tire quickly. Phoenix could not bear to see her downtrodden, and was determined to help improve her mood. 

On Monday, four days after the Highcroft ball, Phoenix insisted that she promenade with him along Laurel Row. Maya agreed, donning a navy blue bonnet and matching muslin gown. Laurel Row was the main promenade in Aldercombe, with its wide gravel path lined with a mixture of old birch, ash, and oak trees that lent their stately presence and generous canopy to all who would walk beneath their boughs. The Hazelbank River lay mostly parallel a good ten metres away, with a beautiful bridge halfway along the promenade – making for a favourite spot for couples to stop. 

Indeed, it seemed that most of the town was out to promenade on the clear Monday afternoon, welcoming the ample shade of the trees along the path. Maya inhaled deeply, as she took Phoenix’s arm.

“It seems the fresh air is what everyone needs today.” She murmured, looking around at the couples and groups of friends and families promenading. 

Phoenix grunted his agreement, “Yes, and all the better not to see the militia about.”

“You know, I still cannot believe that you stood up to the colonel like that, Phoenix,” Maya said with a slight hush to her voice though there was no one immediately around them, “It is a wonder he has not made a big fuss of it.”

Phoenix laughed sardonically, “I think that would be because I didn’t entirely deny him his dear viscount.” He mocked the wolfish crooning voice. 

“And what does the dear viscount think of the colonel,” Maya probed with a hint of intrigue. 

“I… do not know,” Phoenix admitted in a low tone, “But I do not think the viscount himself really knows, either. He told me that the colonel made him feel… acknowledged or like there was no-one else in the world, whatever that meant.”

Maya frowned slightly, “Interesting. Do you think the viscount would… fancy the colonel?”

Phoenix found himself shaking his head rather vigorously, “Not at all. Perhaps infatuated, but I do not think the viscount would be in love with the colonel. He does not seem like the type of man the viscount would want to spend his life with.”

“Oh?” Maya questioned, “Who then?”

Phoenix felt his cheeks flush as he turned to focus on his footsteps instead of Maya’s inquiring gaze, “N-No-one. The viscount told me himself that he… is not considering matrimony.”

“Oh.” Maya replied, “But… you danced. At the Highcroft ball and-”

“Yes, that is what baffles me.” Phoenix admitted, “He told me so at the Hollingsworth ball, and we talked at the Fletcher ball and I thought that perhaps we were becoming acquaintances again.”

“But then he asked to dance with you at the Highcroft ball,” Maya finished.

“He asked twice.”

“The viscount asked both times?” Maya gasped as Phoenix nodded.

“They were not consecutive dances, so do not think much of it. But the waltz was…” Phoenix half-closed his eyes in memory, his hip burning slightly as he did so, “Well, it was a waltz, but it felt so very different to all the other dances previously, and… I can’t fathom why, or what changed.”

Maya sighed with a tone of indifference that thinly masked her happiness. Phoenix had to smile in spite of himself, at least he’d brightened her spirits. 

“Well, that waltz was definitely… special.” Maya agreed quietly, “Though I think it would have been entirely unrealistic to hope that one dance could have persuaded Lady Franziska’s affections alone.”

Phoenix patted her hand, “I am sure it meant something to Lady Franziska all the same.”

She nodded in agreement, “Yes, I… I did tell Lady Franziska that I want her to write me as soon as she and Lady Andrews arrived in Carlisle. I hope to send a letter once they leave Aldercombe so she has no excuse.” Maya smiled to herself, and Phoenix noted the faint blush on her cheeks. 

“I am sure she will value your friendship – though I do not think Lady Andrews would agree with me if she knew.”

“Well, Lady Franziska’s correspondence is her own.” Maya shrugged, “I am sure Lady Andrews would have her own correspondence to Miss Inpax.”

“Yes, but I do not think Lady Andrews is as fond of Miss Inpax, as you are of Lady Franziska.” Phoenix teased.

Maya pursed her lips in mild annoyance as they continued to walk down the lane. Couples and family groups chattered with animation as they passed Phoenix and Maya by.

“Huh, everyone seems excitable today,” Maya frowned. Promenade was not usually this energetic unless there was good news, or good gossip – sometimes both. 

“But what news could there be?” Phoenix thought aloud in confusion.

“Oh.” Maya gasped sadly, pulling Phoenix to a stop, “You don’t think-”

“The countess? Proposing?” Phoenix felt his stomach drop as he saw Maya’s face tremble slightly, “Surely not, it is far too soon.”

“She said within the fortnight.” Maya protested, “A weekend may have been all she needed to-” Maya cut herself off, attempting to suppress the hysteria that slowly built in her voice. 

“We do not know that yet,” Phoenix said soothingly, “It may be something else entirely apart – let us not make assumptions.” He smiled, hoping it would lift Maya’s spirits which were falling like a lead balloon with each second.

“Ah! Mr. Wright! Lady Fey!” A young girl waved from a distance down the lane and hurried over, in a flurry of sky blue. 

“Hello, Miss Susannah,” Phoenix greeted cheerfully. Susannah Windham was the second daughter of the Windham family, another of the wealthier families in Aldercombe, and it was her first season out. She was a brilliant, intelligent girl who was always fond of hearing, and sharing, gossip. 

“Why, Miss Susannah,” Maya greeted, the feelings of moments ago buried with only a smile on her face, “What has you in such a state of excitement? News to share?”

Susannah nodded gleefully, “Such thrilling news, really it is quite a shock.” The girl almost seemed to nearly faint from overexertion, as she fanned herself with her hand for a moment.

“Take a moment, Susannah, and breathe,” Maya advised calmly, “I assume it is to do with Lady Franziska and Lady Andrews.”

“Only Lady Andrews, Lady Maya,” Susannah corrected her as she heaved, “For there was word this morning from the servants, that Lady Andrews was seen leaving Aldercombe for Gretna Green, with Miss Inpax.”

Phoenix and Maya both could not help but gasp.

“You mean-” Maya murmured in disbelief.

“-that Lady Andrews ran away to elope at Gretna Green with Miss Inpax?” Phoenix exclaimed, “and not Countess Von Karma?” 

He looked at Maya, who looked at him helplessly – a mixture of shock, relief, hope, and sheer disbelief on her face. For a fleeting second, Phoenix held onto Maya tighter, for fear that she herself would faint.

Susannah nodded excitedly, “Is it not the most fantastic news you ever heard? I have only heard of tales such as this, but to actually hear about it?”

“A-and you’re sure they went to Gretna?” Phoenix clarified, “Not just to Bath, or-or to London?”

Susannah shook her head confidently, “Lady Andrews’ maid went to wake her this morning and instead found a note from Lady Andrews on her bed that said as much.”

“Well…” Phoenix said, stunned, “T-Thank you for the news, Susannah. And good timing, for we were just turning back to the carriage.” He nodded as she curtsied to the pair of them before spotting another friend to share the thrilling gossip. It felt like walking in a trance. Phoenix felt he had to focus on putting one foot in front of the other, with Maya weakly holding onto his arm. When they finally reached the carriage, they both collapsed onto the seats. 

“Please tell me that I am not dreaming,” Maya said, perplexed.

“You are not.” Phoenix replied in the same tone, “Lady Andrews has eloped to Gretna Green with Miss Inpax.”

“So-”

“So Lady Franziska is…” Phoenix did not know how to finish the sentence.

Maya breathed slowly, not staring at anything in particular.

“I… shall need a good day to think over this.” She murmured.

***

It had been her lady’s maid, Nancy, who had broken the news to Franziska as she had been getting ready for breakfast. 

“My lady…” Nancy had started with caution, meeting Franziska’s eye in the mirror as she pinned her hair, “if I may, I… am afraid I have news, but I fear you will not like it.”

“It is up to me to decide what to do with this news, Nancy,” Franziska answered wearily, “Speak.”

Bowing her head, “It is said…” She faltered.

“I said speak, Nancy.” Franziska looked at her sharply, though the girl stared resolutely at her hair.

“.. that Lady Andrews left Aldercombe last night with Miss Inpax,” Her voice was barely a whisper, “For Gretna Green-”

Franziska stood up and turned to face her, “How dare you make such gossip?” She whispered scathingly, “That is my intended, and I will not tolerate such foolish, idle-”

“But my lady, ‘tis not my own!” Nancy trembled, “Hannah, Lady Andrews’ maid, found her note this morning! I swear!”

Franziska could not help the gasp that left her mouth, being otherwise thunderstruck with devastation.

Adrian eloped? It could not have been possible.

“I am sorry, my lady,” Her maid pleaded, “I only thought-”

“Leave me.” Franziska’s command was quiet and calm, “You- Thank you for telling me.” Nancy curtsied before leaving Franziska alone in her bedchambers as she collapsed into the chair that sat facing her mirror, her half pinned grey-blue hair falling around her face.

Adrian. 

To have run away was one thing, to have eloped with another person when Franziska had so clearly stated her affection and intentions. The flame of affection quickly flickered in her heart, before crackling with disgust, anger, and worst of all – shame. Franziska’s cheeks burned. How had she let this happen? She had taken Adrian’s words and actions to mean that she had nothing to hide. Had Franziska been such a fool to believe it truly meant reciprocated feelings?

They had shared many dances and conversations since Franziska’s arrival in town. The sound of Adrian’s laughter as they bounded, her soft brown eyes that Franziska had studied so carefully on the slow dances. They shared dreams of a family, of domestic life together. Adrian had always listened so intently to what Franziska had to say to her, and Franziska blushed ruefully at the memory of feeling quite flattered when Adrian demanded to stay by her side at the Fletcher’s ball. Adrian had blushed when Franziska had called on her with flowers, announcing her wish to court the lady, and Franziska in turn had blushed when they had called each other simply by their first names in conversation. There had been no mention of any other, no doubt of Lady Adrian’s affection for her.

Franziska’s memory soured with the tainted presence of Miss Inpax. Watching the two of them dance together at Highcroft, with neither lady able to keep their eyes off each other. Franziska had felt jealousy’s pang in her chest, but pushed it aside to relish in seeing Adrian so happy. She knew there had been a gleam in Adrian’s eyes when she told Franziska that she was to dance with Miss Inpax again. Her dance with the baroness had pushed it from her mind until now.

How long had Adrian continued this facade of love? Franziska wanted to believe it had only been so recently, but could not help but feel like a horse chasing after a carrot on a string. Worse yet, Miss Inpax was nothing compared to her – Adrian should be so fortunate as to even have had the opportunity to socialise with someone of rank such as Franziska. And yet, the common lady had been chosen and was deemed to be better than her – what did that say about Franziska, a countess? Surely the town thought them fools in love. 

Franziska scoffed to herself. She had believed Adrian’s actions to be genuine. Worst of all, having believed her false words and become enamoured with her empty actions, Franziska truly thought herself in love – on the verge of proposing to Lady Adrian within the next few days. Yet, apparently Adrian could not even find it in herself to send Franziska any personal correspondence of her actions or apology of any kind, deigning only to leave a note for her maid to find and spread gossip throughout the town. Had Franziska truly meant so little to her that she could be abandoned without a second thought? Lady Adrian was a fool, but Franziska had been the fool of fools.

Franziska looked over at the small box that lay on her dresser, before quickly turning away with such an ache in her chest. The ache spread to her throat, which tightened horribly with a sudden burning in her eyes. She would not cry. Not for such a woman who would mock her, and make her the laughing stock of the town. 

The tears spilled down her cheeks anyway, quietly mocking the Countess Von Karma. 

Such a pitiful display of emotion. A deep voice echoed from the depths of her mind. Where is the perfect Countess?

Brushing her tears aside, Franziska moved away from the mirror and to an armchair so that she may avoid seeing the ghost of her father in the shadows of her face. She stifled a sob – Von Karma’s did not sob. With a deep breath, she tried to think how to deal with this.

The elopement would be scandal aplenty for Aldercombe, with whole town no doubting talking of it for days and weeks to come. Franziska refused to give into such insipid gossip, nor would she give the town the satisfaction of publicly seeing her crushed. Her mind was made up – she would remain in her room, out of prying eyes and minds, until whispers and gossip subsided, however long it took. 

The energy of a new day had entirely dissipated in any case, and Franziska was not hungry. She turned to look over at the ring box again, before storming over and hastily throwing it in a drawer. She could not stand to look at the thing – already a painful reminder of her complete foolishness. She spent the morning shifting between unquenchable anger, desolation, and complete apathy. Her little brother at least had the presence of mind to check on her, but not even Miles could convince her to leave her room, or even talk to him.

“M-my lady…?” Nancy inquired timidly in the mid afternoon as she knocked gently, and without an objection to her presence, stepped into the room with barely a sound – as if sound had been the very thing to cause Franziska to remain in her room. 

“I… brought some tea, as well as cold ham, cheese, and bread.” Nancy gently placed the tray of sustenance on the table in front of the armchair where Franziska sat nearly motionless. Nancy watched her carefully, “It will do you good to eat a little, my lady.” She curtsied before leaving, the door closing behind her with a soft ‘click’.

Fresh tears blurred Franziska’s vision. 

Chapter Text

The next day, on Tuesday, Phoenix’s carriage arrived at Highcroft. He brought his very best oil paints and canvas, and found it difficult to sit still for the entire ten minute carriage ride. This would likely be the first of at least two sittings for a portrait, as the light had to be good and the paint needed time to dry, but Phoenix still felt nervous for the first painting session. 

The butler brought him into a large well-lit morning room where Phoenix found the viscount pacing the room in anticipation of his arrival, in his usual burgundy coat. Bowing to Phoenix, Lord Edgeworth welcomed him, gesturing to a section of the room where white sheets had already been laid down on the floor for protection, with an empty easel facing an empty cream-wallpapered wall. 

“Well,” Phoenix started uneasily, “Where- How-...I-”

“Please,” Lord Edgeworth placated with a small smile, “Make yourself comfortable. My servants have already protected the floor, but anything you need, they can oblige.”

Phoenix nodded, the viscount’s smile filling him with warmth and quiet confidence. Calling for a small table to sit by the easel, Phoenix set his oils and canvas down. 

“What kind of portrait are you wanting, Lord Edgeworth?” Phoenix inquired, feeling almost like a merchant, rather than an old friend.

“I think a simple bust would suffice,” The viscount seemed to reason with himself. A bust was the smallest portrait that could be painted – a picture of the person’s head and shoulders. Simple but elegant.

“Do not feel that you need to limit yourself on my account, I can do a full-length portrait if you wish,” Phoenix assured him.

“Not at all,” Lord Edgeworth reassured Phoenix, “Though I have been meaning to sit for a portrait for a time, I find that I do not want to gaze at such an enormous recreation of myself in my own house if I can help it. A simple portrait will be sufficiently elegant.” 

Phoenix nodded, “Then sit as you wish, and I will be a moment.” 

Lord Edgeworth dismissed the servants, and sat himself in a comfortable armchair angled against the wall, as Phoenix began to sketch the outline of the viscount.

“Are you still certain my painting will be to your tastes, Lord Edgeworth?” Phoenix could not help but ask, “Surely one of the artists from the Royal Academy could paint an elegant bust of yourself?”

“I am sure they could,” The viscount agreed, “But it would not be the same.”

Phoenix nodded his head in slight agreement, as he swallowed, “I must confess, I am rather nervous but I hope you will be satisfied with the end product.”

Determinedly, Phoenix continued to sketch the outline of the viscount’s head and shoulders.

“It is a shame it is your portrait I am sketching,” Phoenix mused, “For I do love listening to music as I paint, and well, I know you play splendidly.”

The viscount blinked at this, “Who plays for you at home?”

“Well, I often paint at Fey Manor,” Phoenix chattered, content with his sketch, as he dabbed a paintbrush in paint before sweeping it across the canvas, “You have heard the baroness’ playing. Often I will be outside painting the grounds, and her playing will echo through the house, out to me. It is quite soothing.”

“It is a pity, then, that you do not have music here.” Lord Edgeworth agreed, “For I would happily play if I were able.”

“Did you learn piano here in Aldercombe as a boy?” Phoenix inquired, “I only recall us fishing and running around, I don’t recall-”

The viscount shook his head, “No, it was part of Count Von Karma’s education. Within weeks of my being at Ashwick Hall, I had tutors and teachers for piano, singing, French, Italian, German, arithmetic, and literature.”

“That sounds quite intense – to be so young and learning so much,” Phoenix commented.

“I suppose it was,” The viscount acknowledged, “Though I welcomed the distraction – I could throw myself into my education, which meant less time spent grieving my father.”

The paintbrush faltered.

“Oh,” Phoenix said, “I hadn’t considered that. But wouldn’t you want the time to grieve your father?”

“Of course, and every minute that wasn’t spent in lessons, my father was wholly on my mind. Von Karma was less than impressed that I wore only a black jacket for nearly a year, instead of the customary six months.”

“I see,” Phoenix pondered, “When my parents passed, I wanted nothing but to mourn them. I spent months thinking about them. Not even Mia or Maya could quite convince me to do anything, but they would sit with me even if I did not wish to talk.”

“It sounds like they were good neighbours,” Lord Edgeworth smiled. 

“And friends,” Phoenix smiled, “Though I like to think, if you had stayed in Aldercombe… well, perhaps you would have done the same. I know my parents and Lady Fey would have supported you if they could have.”

The viscount’s eyebrows raised slightly, “I… do not doubt that. It was quite the shock when I was told I was moving north. I had never met my mother’s relatives, Aldercombe was all I knew.”

“I know,” Phoenix sympathised, “I remember being so upset that I did not get to say goodbye to you before you left, and no one in town knew the Von Karma name, so letters could not be directed. Believe me, I asked everyone.” He rambled.

“You… did?” Lord Edgeworth whispered, “You tried to search for me?”

“Oh,” Phoenix laughed anxiously, for he had not meant to divulge those memories, “Well, only in the first few months after you left. I was only nine, my resources were limited and I hit only dead ends. But every time I saw Highcroft in the distance, it made me think of you. You know, how we would chase each other as boys, and fish in the river.” He chuckled nervously.

“Yes,” The viscount hummed, “They were happy days growing up here – I think I missed them most of all, such a contrast to the austere life of Ashwick Hall.”

Phoenix went to say something, but a lump in his throat made it difficult. Focusing back on the painting, they lapsed into silence for a while.

“In truth, the last memories I have of Aldercombe are less than pleasant,” The viscount said thoughtfully, “I’d like to hope that staying in Aldercombe will bring happier memories now.” 

“I hope so too,” Phoenix smiled, “I will be glad to have another friend in town. Maybe you’ll come riding with me, since Maya does not.”

“Ack!” Lord Edgeworth choked a gasp.

“My- Lord Edgeworth?” Phoenix asked, alarmed.

The viscount coughed, looking pale again, “I am well, forgive me. It is only a regret to tell you that I cannot… ride.”

The paintbrush froze.

“Really? I would have thought it part of Count Von Karma’s education.” Phoenix frowned.

“It was, but I…” Lord Edgeworth looked down, the tips of his ears reddened, “You may think me a fool. but I must confess… I am afraid of horses.” He barely whispered.

A puzzle piece clicked in Phoenix’s mind, “No wonder you were so uncomfortable when I suggested travelling to Oxford on…” Phoenix gasped as the viscount nodded, “But we were around… those creatures aplenty growing up and I did not think you were fearful then?”

Lord Edgeworth shook his head, uttering in a low voice, “My-my father. We were on a ride together, nearing home when his horse squealed and bucked. It threw my father off, kicking him in the head.”

“Oh, Miles, I’m so sorry,” Phoenix covered his mouth. He hadn’t been painting for some minutes now, but did not know how to react to his friend telling him what he had clearly told only a few souls in his life, “You know, you don’t have to-”

“You know, sometimes I can still hear the sharp whinny of the horse before my father fell,” He murmured, entranced in his memory, “And I was helpless, since I was just a boy. All I could do was run to the house and-”

Lord Edgeworth cleared his throat, looking back at Phoenix somberly, “Anyway, my father never woke up and since then, horses are just… I can tolerate carriages, since I cannot see the creature, but anything else I simply cannot do. I will walk if there is no alternative to horseback,” His cheeks were red with what Phoenix suspected was embarrassment and shame, “It is ridiculous, really, for a man of my station to be so afraid of such creatures.”

“Not at all,” Phoenix soothed, “In fact, I think fear is what makes us human. I myself am terrified of heights. Once, Maya and Mia took me travelling with them up to the Peaks District and I near fainted at the height of some of the hills. We never even ventured to the taller mountains.”

That seemed to make the viscount more at ease. 

“I am sorry that I inadvertently brought it up,” Phoenix apologised, “I did not mean to make the conversation unpleasant.”

“Do not worry yourself,” Lord Edgeworth insisted, “Truth be told, I think you are the first soul apart from Franziska who knows.”

Phoenix nodded, quiet pride in his heart at the privilege of being privy into the viscount’s life, as he went to resume painting.

“I must admit…” The viscount continued softly, “It is nice to have someone to confide in.”

The paintbrush nearly fell out of Phoenix’s hand entirely, “It… It is. Such friendships are rare, I find, though I have been lucky in my friendship with Maya. And I like to think that we would always have been friends if you’d stayed in Aldercombe.”

“As do I.” The viscount nodded, “I… Is it too much to hope that we could become greater friends, now that I am to stay in Aldercombe?”

“I should very much like that.” Phoenix answered from behind the canvas, deciding to inspect his paints so that the viscount could not see his face. 

Friends, that was all the viscount wanted to be. Phoenix supposed he should be happy to even be reconnected with the viscount like this, and yet there was a spark of disappointment in the pit of his chest that he could not explain even though he knew the viscount’s thoughts on romance. They lapsed back into comfortable silence, with Phoenix making good progress on portrait while the mid-afternoon light was still good. They continued to chat over topics of little consequence for another half-hour before the light in the room had shifted and they could continue no longer. 

“I will return in two day’s time, and that should be all that is needed to complete the portrait,” Phoenix smiled, having packed up his belongings, “I hope the painting is not in the way there. I should hate to distress the countess, especially after...”

“You need not concern yourself,” Lord Edgeworth answered with ease, “The countess has kept to her room since she heard the news. I have scarcely seen her for two days.”

“She- she has?” Phoenix repeated, “I am sorry to hear it. I confess, I imagined the countess to invoke the wrath of God instead.”

Lord Edgeworth nodded with a chuckle, “Heh, I admit I thought the same, but the unexpected betrayal has cut her deeper than I think any of us could have imagined. She… is not herself, and I worry for her.” The viscount’s voice turned thick with concern.

Phoenix found himself placing a hand on Lord Edgeworth’s shoulder in consolation, “I am sure she will recover in time. Time will heal the wounds.”

“I imagine it was a shock to Lady Maya just the same,” The viscount supposed.

Phoenix laughed quickly, “That it was. She was so stunned, I do not think she did anything yesterday. But, I speak for both of us when I say, if you or the countess need anything, we will be more than happy to help.”

“I thank you,” Lord Edgeworth bowed deeply as he bade Phoenix farewell.

***

The second sitting for the portrait passed with ease, all of the nervousness of the first day having disappeared entirely, and Phoenix found himself thoroughly enjoying the viscount’s company. Having finished the face of the portrait, Phoenix was now finishing up on the lower half of the portrait, which allowed the viscount to read to him as he did so. 

It was not quite the same as music, but Lord Edgeworth’s voice had a musicality to it as he read aloud, and Phoenix’s chest tightened with sudden fleeting thoughts and feelings of what could be if they shared a home together. He quickly dismissed such thoughts, for they were to be only friends and nothing more. 

The portrait finished quickly enough, but Phoenix would not allow the viscount to look upon it until he had let it dry and completed any finishing touches. Lord Edgeworth reluctantly allowed this, for he was clearly impatient to see Phoenix’s handiwork. 

“I will have it ready for you at Elmridge House within a week.” Phoenix promised.

“Say, do you have your other artwork there?” There was clear eagerness in the viscount’s words, “If I am to see this portrait, I should very much like the opportunity to view your works.”

“You’re not serious-”

“I am-” Lord Edgeworth answered immediately.

“W-Well,” Phoenix stammered, “What about an unveiling of the portrait? A small gathering of yourself, the countess if she can, the baroness, myself, and a select few others in town, at Elmridge House next week.”

“Oh, I don’t-”

“The focus won’t be on you,” Phoenix promised, “Think of it as a small gallery of my works, with the crown piece being your unveiled portrait. Would that satisfy you?”

“Immensely,” Lord Edgeworth declared, “I only hope Franziska will be more recovered by then.”

“Has she left her room yet?” Phoenix inquired.

“Not at all.” Lord Edgeworth shook his head grimly, “She is eating at least, her lady’s maid brings her meals so that is a comfort. But I am not sure how to help – she refuses to tell me anything at length, and I do not know how long she intends to stay isolated like this.”

Phoenix pondered the solution on the carriage ride back home. The answer came to him the next morning at Fey Manor during breakfast with Maya.

“Lord Edgeworth was telling me that the countess has not left her room since she heard the news about Lady Andrews.” Phoenix said as casually as he could manage, as he poured himself tea.

“R-Really?” Maya stumbled, “I cannot say I am surprised, it was a great shock to us all. But I feel for the countess. I hope she is eating at least.”

“Oh yes,” Phoenix nodded, “But she is not even talking to the viscount. I admit, it is sad to see the countess so heartbroken.”

Maya seemed to be lost in thought as she chewed her toast, “Perhaps I send her a basket of goods. Maybe those pastries she was so fond of – something to help lift the spirits.”

“That is an excellent idea,” Phoenix enthusiastically agreed.

Chapter Text

The group that attended at Elmridge House the next week turned out to be larger than Phoenix anticipated, mainly because word had spread to the militia where a handful of whom, including the colonel, had decided to attend. Annoyed as he was, Phoenix was determined to be the perfect host – civil to the colonel, and charming to the rest. Though he would have loved to outright ban the colonel, that would have drawn more attention to their disagreements and Phoenix did not wish to be the next topic of gossip in town. 

To his relief, the viscount was the first guest (other than Maya and Pearl) to arrive with the countess on his arm – her first outing since Lady Andrews’ elopement the previous week. 

True to her word, Maya had immediately sent a small basket of pastries that the countess had enjoyed, along with a small bouquet of yellow roses with sprigs of blue sage to show that she was thinking of the countess, and remind her that she still had friends here in Aldercombe. A couple of days later, Maya had received a small card with the countess’ thanks and a repeated request for the recipe of the pastries. Maya had immediately replied with a letter of her own, detailing the recipe, and generally inquiring how the countess was faring with the heartbreak. Maya hadn’t told him in as many words, but Phoenix had a fair idea that there had been daily letter correspondence between them for the past week. He was sure the countess would not have dared to venture here if not for Maya’s friendship. He bowed his welcome to both of them before the countess moved into the drawing room, presumably to find Maya. 

“I have been looking forward to viewing your art, Wright,” There was clear excitement in the viscount’s voice, though he was outwardly composed.

“I know,” Phoenix acknowledged with a small laugh, “I don’t think anyone has ever been so  eager to view my work.”

“Then they are in poor taste,” Lord Edgeworth declared – such a declaration that it caught Phoenix by surprise. Phoenix led him into the drawing room, where Maya and Lady Franziska were chatting amongst themselves.  

“The majority of my art is displayed in this hallway, but I thought you should have the first look of your portrait and then it can sit unveiled for the rest of the party.” Phoenix confided, leading them quickly down the art-filled hallway and to a small parlour-type room where an easel sat with a white cloth draped over it. 

“Please,” Phoenix gestured for the viscount to remove the draped material, which he did without hesitation. 

An ornate, square frame sat on the easel, with portrait depicting an incredible likeness of the viscount in his rich burgundy coat. The face of the man in the painting faced the viewer, with his shoulders angled towards the right of the frame, against a cream background. Phoenix was quite proud of his work, if he was honest with himself, but he dreaded the viscount detesting his work. 

“...” The viscount studied his likeness in great detail, Phoenix was sure he would have found something wrong with it, “You have captured me in such brilliant detail, I am astonished it is not a mirror.”

“Truly?” Phoenix gasped.

“Your work with light and shadow-,” he pointed to the corner of his forehead where shadow fell under his hair, “-is incredibly realistic. The work as a whole is indescribable, and I shall treasure it always.” Lord Edgeworth affirmed.

Phoenix stood beside the man, gazing at the portrait, seeing only what he had painted. As far as he knew, he had painted it merely because it had looked like that. He had not tried to be clever, or attempt anything fancy. But he watched the viscount, who continued to study the painting with excitement – his grey eyes alight with wonder. The appreciation from the viscount, verbal and non-verbal, ignited such confidence in Phoenix that he had not felt regarding his skills as an artist. To have such a man, so enthusiastically appreciate his talents, was… well, he had never experienced anything like it.

Alas, voices down the corridor alerted him to the presence of others.

“The rest of the guests have arrived, it seems.” 

They moved back to the drawing room to find Maya and Franziska still comfortably chatting along with the Sirs Simon and Frederick Repington, Sir Thomas and Lady Jemima Hollingsworth, the Ladies Charlotte and Ellen Windham, and their families in tow. There were a handful of other older couples from town, and the few handful of soldiers with the colonel. All in all, there was a decent crowd of nearly thirty total who had come to view Phoenix’s art. Though he was secure that his work could not disappoint the viscount, brief terror gripped him at what the members of society would think. Nonetheless, that was the reason they were gathered in front of them. With a breath, he called their attention.

“Friends, guests,” Phoenix addressed the room, “Thank you for attending this humble gathering to view my art. Down the hallway you will find all of my works to date, and in the parlour room at the end, there is the unveiled portrait which I completed for the viscount only this week. View at your pleasure, I am sure we will play some music or games as the afternoon goes on.”

The crowd chattered excitedly as the majority of them moved into the hallway.

***

The modest hallway of Elmridge House was not likely built to have nearly twenty people within its walls at one time. As such, Miles found it difficult to move down the hall at times, which only gave him more time to appreciate the art in front of him. And such art it was – a variety of charcoal sketches, watercolour paintings, and oil paintings lined the hallway. 

The vision of his own portrait lingered in Miles’ mind. He was not a vain person, but Count Von Karma had impressed upon him the importance of a good portrait for posterity. Still, he had never expected anything so brilliant as what Wright had painted – even somehow managing to capture a small smile on his face, where younger portraits had only shown Miles’ stern face. There was a simple beauty in the strokes of paint, which was clear to see in all of Wright’s artwork, and which Miles knew could not be captured to the same effect by a Royal Academy artist.

He studied a charcoal rendition of Elmridge House, the large trees that surrounded the house nearly identical in real life, the detailing on the outside of the house replicated spectacularly on the paper in front of him.

“I hope it is to your liking,” Wright’s voice spoke softly from behind him, and Miles turned to find his section of the hallway nearly empty – for everyone had begun to move up towards the parlour room.

“It is… truly breathtaking,” Miles praised softly, “I wish I was only half as good. You have a talent for putting the beauty of whatever you see directly on the paper.”

The praise seemed to shock Wright, who blinked, “I do not think I deserve such high praise, Lord Edgeworth. I merely paint or draw what I see.”

Miles shook his head – how could the man be so humble, so tentative of his own skills?

“This is my favourite watercolour so far,” Miles pointed above them to a large rectangular painting of the shared grounds of Fey Manor and Elmridge House, as Wright stepped forward on his right side.

“See the river?” He traced the path of the river in the air with his right hand, as Wright followed his movement with his eyes, “The sparkle of the water in the sun on a clear day, the vivid green of the leaves against the cool shade of the trees…” Miles found himself rambling, “It is as if I am already there, seeing it clearly with my own eyes. Though I suppose that is the nature of such paintings and art.” 

His hand dropped, just grazing Wright’s hand as it returned by his side, as they continued to gaze at the painting. A faint trace of a finger against his own tempted him to reach out, and clasp the hand that could only be millimetres from his. The hallway, the guests, even the whole world seemed to fade away – it was just him and Wright, gazing at this painting. 

“I wanted to paint a view of the whole town from above,” Wright confessed softly, “But to do that, I would have to be up high… so this was the compromise.” He moved up the hallway and motioned to another charcoal sketch, “This was one of the first sketches I properly completed.”

Miles followed, looking at the paper. A view of a stately home sat between trees, with hills and forest rolling behind it, glimpses of the Hazelbank River around. The sketch was rough and not as polished as some of the others, but the design of the house was unmistakable.

“Is this… Highcroft?” Miles stammered. Even in such a rough design, there was still the beauty of the architecture, the clouds that had rolled overhead on this particular day, and the trees that spread into the horizon.

Wright nodded, “I was only… fifteen I think. I was sick of reading and I had drawn smaller objects for fun, and I realised that I could attempt to recreate images of real life. This was the first sketch that I thought good enough to frame.”

Recognition ignited in Miles’ memory, “Is this from the gazebo at the edge of Fey Manor?”

Wright nodded again, “It was the only place I could find to sit, and Highcroft was in perfect view…”

“Incredible,” Miles breathed, as Wright looked at him with no doubt of confusion and surprise on his face as Miles could not help but blush. He would happily be distracted with such brilliant artistry if such pieces were displayed in Highcroft.

“You must think me silly for praising your artwork so vocally,” Miles apologised, “But I mean every word I say – your artwork is brilliant beyond measure.” Wright’s cheeks darkened as he murmured a quiet, “Thanks”, and they continued staring at the artwork again, hands millimetres apart. 

The crowd around them had shifted entirely to either the parlour room, or the drawing room, and just when Miles thought his right hand would burn up from the tension of being so close and yet so far to touching Wright’s hand, he felt two fingers gently reach out and interlace with his own. It could only have been for seconds, but Miles thought his heart would burst out his chest, his face entirely aflame with emotion. Hope seared through him, though he knew not what for.

He turned to gaze at the man whose fingers briefly meshed with his own, finding Wright’s face equally blazing with feeling, “I-”

“My dear Lord Edgeworth!” The colonel’s voice called down the hallway as Miles and Wright hastily snatched their hands apart, “Come stand by your portrait so we may compare the recreation to the original!”

Miles looked up the hallway to find the smirking face of the colonel, who stared at him expectantly.

“Forgive me,” He apologised, making his way up the hallway to the parlour room.

***

Phoenix watched the viscount stride up the hallway and turned back to look at his first sketch of Highcroft. The viscount had declared his work ‘incredible’, and seemed to have no end of compliments for his artistry. 

Phoenix’s hand felt as hot as his face, and he made to turn back towards the drawing room in an attempt to find some air, but-

“Mr. Wright!” Lady Jemima called to him, “You must come and let us appreciate your fine work on this brilliant portrait!” Phoenix smiled up at her, playing the gracious host, taking some deep breaths as he walked up the hallway to find most of the party gathered around the portrait with Lord Edgeworth standing beside it, a touch uneasily.

“Such a handsome likeness!” Lady Ellen declared.

“Really, Wright, I am surprised you don’t paint more portraits for those of us here in Aldercombe!” Sir Thomas exclaimed, “I would rather have a friend paint me, than some stuffy artist.”

“My dear Lord Edgeworth, your portrait is nearly as handsome as you are,” Phoenix heard the colonel crooning, “Perhaps I should commission a miniature portrait of this, so that I may always have your handsome self with me.” The voice was soft, and Lord Edgeworth’s cheeks seemed to flush, but Phoenix had no doubt that the colonel had made sure his words reached only the viscount and Phoenix. Phoenix could not deny the sensation of his stomach plummeting to the floor.

“Who taught you to paint, Mr. Wright?” Miss Augusta asked.

“I… I taught myself,” Phoenix admitted bashfully, to the surprise of the room, as Maya and Lady Franziska entered the parlour room at last.

“Oh, Phoenix, that is a spectacular portrait!” Maya exclaimed.

“It is splendid indeed,” Lady Franziska echoed, “You have even made my little brother smile a little.” The countess was a little subdued in her manner of talking but, grateful for the compliment, Phoenix nodded with a smile of his own.

Safe to say, the party had been massively impressed with Phoenix’s artistic talents that they talked for nearly an hour in the parlour room alone, before Phoenix could no longer hear another glowing review of his talents and called for afternoon tea.

***

Plates of small cakes and biscuits were laid out. The guests were content to eat and chat amongst themselves. The younger children, who were about 11 or 12 years old, were playing card games loudly in the corner, and thoroughly enjoying themselves. A part of Phoenix had hoped that he could talk more to the viscount for while he tired of everyone else’s compliments and opinions, Phoenix did not seem to mind hearing the viscount’s many and varied thoughts about his art. Sadly, Phoenix looked over to see the viscount cornered into conversation by the colonel, who was telling some animated story to the viscount who was merely sipping his tea. 

Phoenix’s lips tightened, as he sipped his own tea to hide his displeasure. He glanced away, to see Maya and Lady Franziska chatting with Lady Jemima and Lady Ellen. While the countess seemed to participate in little conversation with the women, Phoenix noticed that when she was not talking, her gaze was solely fixed on Maya. Phoenix smiled knowingly, before a sudden thought occurred to him. He strode over to the ladies, who welcomed him into conversation. 

“I declare,” Phoenix started, “That I think we should have some music. Maya, what say you – would you play for us?”

“Of course!” Maya agreed eagerly, seating herself at the small pianoforte that sat nearby. She immediately serenaded the party with a small minuet, to gentle but appreciative applause.

“It would be a pleasure to hear you play, or sing, as well, my lady,” Phoenix suggested to the countess who nodded a slight agreement, “Of course, no one here would accompany you half as well as Maya, I would think.” Phoenix proclaimed for the room to hear with a smile, ignoring Maya’s pointed glare at him. 

“How could I refuse such an offer of a brilliant partner?” Lady Franziska said, striding over to the pianoforte, as she and Maya quickly discussed the piece they were to perform. Phoenix looked over at the viscount who met his gaze with a knowing nod.

They appeared to agree quickly on a piece as Maya began playing a gentle moving introduction before the countess started singing an Italian aria. The tune was simple but Lady Franziska had a sweet, light voice that suited the soprano solo well. Every word was said accurately, no run of notes was unclear, and there was spirit in the way Lady Franziska sang with Maya’s steadfast accompaniment. Phoenix did not miss the way Lady Franziska glanced at Maya as she sang, and he was sure Maya did not either. They performed together with such ease that, had he not known it was their first time performing together, he would have thought they sang and played together frequently. 

Their performance seemed to have the same effect on the rest of the room – everyone was enraptured with the music played for them, with vigorous applause at its finale and calls for another performance. Maya nodded at Lady Franziska, who called for an operatic piece by Mozart. The countess made easy work of the more difficult piece, gliding through difficult passages, from high notes to low notes and still the light quality of her voice never wavered. 

The applause was just as vigorous for the second piece, before Maya called for the younger girls to perform music for the group as she strode over to Phoenix, the countess having returned to the company of the married ladies.

“You sly devil,” Maya whispered, keeping her eyes on Susannah Windham who had picked a fast piece to perform, “Do not think I was not aware of what you were doing.”

“I merely saw an opportunity to hear the countess sing,” Phoenix said innocently, “Besides, she sings so sweetly, and you played so beautifully that it is a wonder we have never heard you both perform together.”

“Well I cannot deny that,” Maya conceded, “But I will not say there is anything between the countess and I. We are… merely friends.” She hesitated.

“But is friendship not a foundation for love?” Phoenix suggested with a smirk.

“If that is so, then what about you and the viscount?” Maya quipped, “Your friendship is closer day by day, I think. That portrait really is spectacular, Phoenix, and the viscount certainly seems to think so.”

Phoenix barked a nervous laugh, “Yes, he gave me such thorough praise of all my artwork, I thought I would faint.” He swallowed with a flutter in his stomach, “But the colonel is busy crooning to him at the present.” Maya followed his gaze over to the colonel, who was sitting very close to the viscount and talking endlessly despite the brilliant playing of the pianoforte. 

“In truth, I do not know what the viscount thinks of me.” Phoenix murmured, as he held his gaze on the viscount, “One minute he sings my praises, and the next, he is entirely engaged in conversation with another man who would shower him with compliments and conversation. In that comparison, I am the poorer choice, I think.”

“Are you so uncertain of your friendship with the viscount?” Maya inquired seriously.

“He… He confided his hope that we would become greater friends now that he is to remain in Aldercombe, and I thought…” Phoenix sighed quietly, as Susannah’s playing concluded and applause spread through the room, “I thought that perhaps we… no, I think I am a fool for believing that could be more.”

“I do not-”

“The viscount is not interested in matrimony, remember? We are to be friends, and that is all.” Phoenix reminded her. 

“...Opinions can change.” Maya countered. 

“Hmph,” Phoenix grunted, dismayed. He could not help but wish that it was him, sitting beside the viscount as they talked the afternoon away. His left hand tingled with the brief touch of the viscount’s own hand, his mind swirled with the words of his praises and adoration. But his heart sank at the sight of the colonel inching closer in his seat to the viscount and how the viscount remained composed despite it all, making no effort to move away. 

Chapter Text

It was nearing the end of the militia’s stay in Aldercombe and Somersetshire altogether, and while Phoenix was anticipating their departure, a sense of dread filled him simultaneously for he did not know how the absence of the colonel would impact the viscount or what the colonel would do in his inevitable farewell to the viscount. Phoenix did not like to dwell on such thoughts, and in fact, Phoenix was determined not to think about the viscount at length, if he could help it. Maya now spent the occasional day at Highcroft with the countess; it had been a week since Phoenix had spoken to the viscount at the gathering at Elmridge House. 

A small orchestra was set to perform at the next assembly in Aldercombe Hall, with most of the town planning to attend – the militia included. Phoenix could not recall the last orchestral performance he had attended, but one needed to dress nicely for any event in the assembly hall. Phoenix donned his navy blue tailcoat, with Maya in an amethyst gown with a simple necklace of small diamonds. 

As the crowd made their way into the main assembly room to take their seats, Phoenix and Maya made their way to the front. Since Maya was one of the highest ranking families in town, she was often afforded the privilege of sitting near or at the front with the other titled families. The seats were divided into two sections with an aisle down the centre, and the front row of the left section of seats were mostly empty. They sat closer to the aisle, with an empty seat on Maya’s left, and two empty seats on Phoenix’s right – until the colonel strolled up to the front row and, glancing at Phoenix and Maya, sat on the end seat, leaving one spare seat between him and Phoenix. As Phoenix turned to Maya to suggest that they move down, he heard-

“My dear Lord Edgeworth!” The colonel exclaimed at the arrival of the viscount and countess at the front row. The viscount wore a black coat this time, with the countess in a stunning turquoise gown that complemented her hair. 

The viscount and countess greeted the colonel, before the colonel gestured to the seat beside Phoenix, “Please, my lord, I saved this seat for you.” 

Lord Edgeworth looked at the colonel, then looked at Phoenix who gave a small smile. Lady Franziska wordlessly moved to sit on Maya’s left, as the viscount slowly sat between the two men. Phoenix was painfully aware of how close the viscount’s shoulder was to his own.

“Are you well, Wright?” Lord Edgeworth inquired softly, “I… have not seen you since the gathering at Elmridge House.”

“...I am quite well, thank you,” Phoenix breathed, his heart pounding in his chest, “I was… I found I had to recover from such generous praise from everyone about my art, if I am truthful.” It was not a lie, but Phoenix wished he could have said more if it wasn’t for the man sitting to the right of the viscount. 

“My dear viscount, I am very glad you sit by my side tonight,” The colonel spoke sweetly, the honey-like tone filling Phoenix with dread, “There is nothing so enjoyable as spending an evening beside someone so handsome as yourself.”

The viscount gave no reply. The orchestra started to play, an operatic singer joining them for two songs, performing a variety of familiar concertos and arias. Phoenix only wished he could have appreciated the music more, for the viscount’s silence did not seem to deter the colonel from speaking into his ear, and by extension towards Phoenix, at any opportunity – often at the end of a song, during applause.

“Truly marvellous playing! But I hear that you play the pianoforte, my lord.” The colonel murmured at the end of the first piece, “I should like to have the privilege one day of hearing you play for me.”

The viscount merely cleared his throat in response.

“I rather think you would sound brilliant singing with this orchestra, my lord. You know, I rather think one would faint at hearing your exquisite voice, but I think it would be worth it.” The colonel smiled at the end of the singer’s first piece. 

“I have always thought any future partner of mine would need to be accomplished, and if he was to be skilled in music, then I would want hear him play all the day long, to sing to me at every opportunity – a private concert between me and my beloved.” He crooned at the conclusion of the singer’s second aria.

It was unbearable. Though the viscount said nothing, Phoenix himself felt flustered, his cheeks flushed, at such private words. He dared not look at the colonel, primarily so he did not give the man the satisfaction that he was bothering Phoenix so drastically, but also so that he would not see the viscount’s face which would likely serve to only confirm Phoenix’s strong suspicion that, really, the viscount must be enjoying such attentions. 

Phoenix resigned himself to sit through the rest of the performance, ignoring the colonel’s whispers as much as he could. The applause sounded at the end of the first half of the night before Phoenix heard-

“You know, my dear viscount, I confess… you may be the first man to tempt me into matrimony.” It was barely a whisper but it caught Phoenix’s ear all the same, “Naturally, I would only be inclined to marry the handsomest man in England, but no one has been quite as charming as you.”

Phoenix could not stand it any longer, standing abruptly, while the rest of the audience were clapping, and rushing down the aisle, leaving the main assembly hall as fast as he could. He could not escape out the front to the main square, he needed somewhere to hide. Looking to his left, he saw an open door that led out to a small garden area that extended from the side of the hall to the back of the hall – a perfect piece of nature in the middle of town.

Someone called his name but he ignored them – the rest of the crowd were likely filing out of the hall for intermission, and he could not tolerate being near anyone at the minute. He hastened outside, passing topiary bushes that lined the sides of the hall to find a series of hedges and small trees with small flower beds behind the hall. A marble bench sat in the middle of the arrangement and Phoenix sat to catch his breath. 

He regretted attending the performance tonight, regretted not moving down the row sooner, regretted not thinking to swap seats with the countess. Swearing at himself for his misfortune, he felt his face flushing. It would be impossible to look the viscount in the eye from this night onwards – how could the man sit there, so composed, so calm, while such private statements were uttered so plainly? Clearly, it was a ploy, a trick, to tease Phoenix and make him the laughing stock of the night.

“Wright!”

Phoenix turned around on the bench to see the very recipient of such words, the viscount, approaching him. The man looked both annoyed and concerned, his cheeks darker in the shadow of the moonlight.

“Wright, what is the matter? Are you well?” Lord Edgeworth came to a halt as Phoenix stood to acknowledge his presence. 

“Am I well?” Phoenix repeated, “Is this some kind of twisted joke?” He stormed.

“I-I beg your pardon?” The viscount stammered, confusedly.

“That!” Phoenix pointed in the direction of the hall, “The colonel whispering all those… incredibly private sentiments to you during the performance, plain for me to hear!”

“Yes, I found it incredibly-”

“Enjoyable? Thrilling? Flattering?” Phoenix retorted hotly.

“-vexing.” The viscount answered, “The man seems to delight in saying such things to try and make me uncomfortable.”

“You?” Phoenix barked a sardonic laugh, “It is clear the colonel has feelings for you, or at least enjoys flirting with you – going so far as to tell you how he would consider marrying you! And all the while, you have said and done nothing to persuade him otherwise, and so he continues to prattle on with his vulgarities for the world to hear.” Phoenix’s heart was racing, pounding in his head as all the uncertain emotion of the past few weeks roared in his ears, swirling and mixing together in a culmination of sudden fury.

“His words mean nothing, I assure you!” The viscount protested, “If I responded, it would only give the viscount satisfaction that his words had an impact.”

“Do they?” Phoenix spat, “Do they have an impact?”

“I-” The viscount stammered and, in his hesitation, Phoenix feared he would declare himself in love with the colonel. “Of course, not, Wright, but you cannot deny that if someone sits by you crooning such words that you too would be taken aback, lost for words.”

“Such words are intolerable to hear when you are not the intended recipient,” Phoenix fumed, “And your sitting in silence only leads one to believe that you may have feelings for the colonel, for otherwise you would not encourage such behaviour.”

“Wright, I-”

“I thought we were perhaps becoming closer, as you said last week at Highcroft, but I see now that you are merely toying with me, and you have done this whole time,” Phoenix argued, his head swimming with disgust and anger at himself. He had done this – he had let himself become infatuated with the man.

“I know you are not interested in matrimony, but I believed myself to foolishly have feelings for you all the same.” It did not matter now if the viscount knew of his dwindling affection, there was little that could be done to salvage it now.

“Y-You do?” The viscount whispered.

“Clearly they were misplaced.” Phoenix scoffed, “I knew you did not reciprocate – that your praise of my art, your supposed longing memories for me, could not be meaningful. It could not be clearer that I was just another form of amusement for you; firstly for the colonel, and now you. Are the fates so cruel as to torment me?”

“I have not-” The viscount stammered, shock plain on his face, “You could never be-”

“Never be what?” Phoenix demanded, breathing heavily, as the viscount ran his hands through his hair, “Never be the object of your affections? Never be anything but a friend? Well, you need not worry any-”

With three long strides, suddenly the viscount’s lips were on his, with his warm hands cupping Phoenix’s face with the same gentility as when he’d held him during the waltz. Heat seemed to spread from Phoenix’s lips, across his face, down his spine to the tips of his toes. 

Phoenix should not have wanted to kiss the viscount back, but every fibre of his being refused to do anything else, and he found himself kissing back voraciously, gripping onto the viscount’s jacket as if it was the only thing holding him upright. He could not help but moan against the viscount as he did. The cautious, dwindling flicker of affection he had felt for the viscount mere seconds ago had been willingly suppressed, but now with Lord Edgeworth’s lips on his, it had hungrily grown to a bonfire in his chest that would not be quenched. 

A hand moved from his face to his waist, as Phoenix’s hand moved to the viscount’s broad back. Every touch, every kiss, was searing hot and Phoenix feared he would combust but would gladly do it endlessly for a chance to touch the viscount like this. 

“Ah, there you-” A loud voice exclaimed with a gasp, “Well, well, well, what is this?” 

Phoenix separated from the viscount as quickly as he could, the cold air rushing over his face as soon as they did, relinquishing his hold on the viscount’s jacket only slightly, but the damage had been done. 

“My dear viscount,” The colonel snickered, looking as if he had enjoyed catching them in the act, “I had no idea you were the scandalous sort. Who knows what might have happened if I had been only a moment longer?”

“Colonel,” Lord Edgeworth cautioned as Phoenix hastily removed his hands from the viscount, “There is no need to jump to hasty conclusions.”

“I do not think the conclusions are so far-fetched, when I find the two of you, alone, in a dark garden, and quite… passionate as that.” The colonel smirked, “I am sure the town would love to hear of the newest scandal.”

“There is no scandal here, Colonel Lang,” Lord Edgeworth said quickly, “For had you been a moment earlier… you would have overheard my proposal to Wright.”

Though Phoenix had to applaud the viscount on his quick thinking, he could not deny the intense thrill that ran through his body at such a phrase, as he looked at Lord Edgeworth with what he hoped appeared as nervous excitement.

“So, you see, I do not think it scandalous for two lovers to celebrate their affections on such a happy occasion, do you?” Lord Edgeworth postulated to the silent colonel.

“Is this true, Wright?” The colonel looked accusingly at Phoenix, who nodded wordlessly. 

Their story seemed to have convinced Colonel Lang, who looked nearly riotous, “Well you may not be in the midst of an affair, but you are liars all the same – or have you forgotten that you both declared to me that there was nothing between you?” He looked pointedly at Phoenix.

“It seems our affections have changed,” Phoenix answered casually, “I hope we have not offended you, Colonel Lang. I had heard that you may have hoped to marry the viscount yourself.” He found himself smiling triumphantly.

“Bah, it was a jest,” the colonel scowled, “I suppose I should leave you lovers to compose yourself. If you’ll excuse me.” 

He stalked back inside the hall, leaving Phoenix and Lord Edgeworth standing barely apart to ponder the impact of their actions. 

“So...” Phoenix hesitated.

“I am sorry, I could think of nothing else to… explain the situation.” The viscount looked at Phoenix, apologetically. 

“No, it was clever.” Phoenix agreed, “And now we are…”

“Betrothed.” The viscount paused with a sharp inhale, razor-sharp focus in his voice as he spoke, “Time is of the essence, if we are to prevent the colonel from spreading any further gossip. Let us return home, under the pretence of illness. If we leave now, the carriages will return in time to pick up the ladies.”

“We should leave word for Maya and Lady Franziska that we are unwell, so as not to alarm them greatly.” Phoenix added as they walked to the front, glancing to ensure they were not seen by anyone else. 

They need not have worried, for the intermission had concluded and the audience had filed back into the hall for the second half of the performance. Leaving a small card with the servants for Maya and Lady Franziska, the carriages were awaiting them at the front of the hall. 

“I will see you tomorrow?” Lord Edgeworth asked as Phoenix helped him inside, blocking the view of the horses.

“Of course,” Phoenix answered, “Now that we are to be married, it would look odd if we did not spend time together. Call on me in the morning at Elmridge House, I will be alone.”

The viscount nodded as the carriage started to pull away. Running his hands through his hair, Phoenix sighed.

Chapter Text

It was entirely unlike Phoenix to suddenly be so ill, and from the look on Lady Franziska’s face, the same was said for the viscount. Nonetheless, Maya could not deny that she enjoyed the evening sitting beside Lady Franziska. She had wanted to hear what Phoenix thought of sitting beside the viscount, even if the colonel was on the other side of him, but alas she would have to wait until Phoenix called on her in the morning. 

She would not get the chance to wait for Phoenix to call on her, for Lady Franziska called on her first asking if she would promenade with her along the river. Maya could only accept such an offer, and they rode in the countess’ phaeton down to the river promenade, downstream from Laurel Row. On a clear blue day, the river sparkled brilliantly against the open grassy banks. There was not the canopy of Laurel Row here, so bonnets were a must to protect from the sun, but the cool breeze of the waterfront was pleasant mostly any time of year.

Lady Franziska had welcomed Maya’s attempts at friendship, as it seemed there was no one else who had offered their companionship to her after Lady Andrews’ elopement – in part, Maya thought, due to Lady Franziska’s determined nature to find love and not merely friendship. Maya found herself in conversation or correspondence with Lady Franziska at least daily, and the privilege of her companionship was not lost on her. The countess had even confided that she had not intended to leave her rooms for weeks, save for Maya’s correspondence and friendship. Still, it was barely two weeks since the elopement and after such a public scandal of love, Maya had no doubt that the countess would be hesitant to even enter into another courtship during this season. 

As for Maya, her affection for the countess was only growing day by day. In all their conversation and correspondence, Maya found that they shared the same values and beliefs for life and their futures. She knew the countess wanted a family, and Maya was the same – only a woman could inherit Fey Manor, and Maya would be horrified if she let the estate fall to a distant relative. They had already discovered their mutual love of music – the memory of Lady Franziska’s voice singing in her mind late at night, soothing her to sleep and yielding her pleasant dreams. She could not, and dared not, speak for the countess’ affections, but Maya was willing to hold her tongue and her heart until the countess confided her thoughts on love again. Until then, she would be her close confidant.

The women were halfway down the promenade, chatting about anything and everything. Conversation had not felt so easy with the countess when she had first arrived, but now Maya found it incredibly easy to speak with her. 

“Seems to be quiet on the promenade today,” Maya observed. 

“Perhaps there is an illness in town – especially for my brother and Mr. Wright to both have fallen unusually ill.” Lady Franziska supposed. 

“Perhaps, but I-” Maya gasped, “I have not seen any of the militia about. They can’t have left town yet, I thought they were due to stay for another week before their departure to Plymouth.”

“I cannot say I would be sad to see them depart sooner,” Lady Franziska mused, “That colonel continued to whisper to my brother last night. I did not catch his words, but the sheer audacity of continuing to talk during a performance was absurd.” She sniffed.

“You share your great dislike of the colonel with Phoenix,” Maya agreed, “He believes the colonel’s flirtations to be entirely insincere, and avoids engaging with him where possible. It is a wonder he tolerated sitting so near the colonel for as long as he did, but perhaps the viscount was the tolerable buffer.” 

“Well, I had hoped to share my criticism of the colonel’s manners with him over breakfast, but I have not seen or heard my little brother this morning, so I cannot comment. He is usually forthcoming with news if he hears it, and I would be interested to hear his thoughts on the matter.”

“As do I with Phoenix.” Maya replied. They continued walking along the river until they reached the end where the river bent sharply to the left. Turning around, they saw a handful of people up ahead gathered in a group. 

“I wonder what’s gone on there?” Maya inquired as the ladies hastened over to see the commotion of the small group, where a number of the younger ladies were chattering excitedly, with some looking teary-eyed.

“Say, Miss Susannah, what’s happened?” Maya asked, looking around at the group as they curtsied to herself and Lady Franziska. 

“Oh, Lady Maya! Of course you’ll know half the news already, but the militia have left!” Susannah said, slightly dejected, “Last night, they packed up and left at early dawn for Plymouth. It is rather a shame, since they were supposed to be here for another week and I so wished to dance again with some of the soldiers.” Some of the girls nodded their similar sentiment.

“Ah, a shame that they left so soon,” Maya replied politely, “but I wonder what made them leave so soon.”

“No one knows, my lady, and it is so very quiet in town now that they have left.” Miss Augusta Hollingsworth declared sadly.

“I would think less chaos in town is needed.” Lady Franziska murmured to the stunned silence of the group, none of the young girls dared reply to the countess.

“But, Susannah, what’s this other news you were talking about?” Maya asked with a frown, “Why should I know it already? I have heard nothing this morning.”

“Indeed?” Susannah was shocked, “But the servants were talking about it all morning – it was discovered that… that Lord Edgeworth and Mr. Wright as engaged to be married, and have been, in secret, for some time!”

“Engaged?!” Lady Franziska exclaimed, “When did you find out?”

“I only heard it this morning,” Susannah replied, slightly fearful of the countess’ demanding tone. The other girls in the group nodded in agreement. 

“Thank you girls, we will leave you to promenade,” Maya said before taking Lady Franziska arm-in-arm and strolling as fast as they could, while still looking dignified, back to the phaeton.

“Engaged, in secret? Those two?” Maya exclaimed in hushed tones, her head spinning with the news, “Surely not.”

“Let me will take you back to Fey Manor – perhaps Wright is waiting to talk to you there.” Lady Franziska theorised, “I anticipate my brother has remained at Highcroft and he will give me answers as to the truth of the matter, how this came about, and why we had to hear it from mere gossip.” She said scathingly. 

It was a tense phaeton ride to Fey Manor, as Maya considered how Phoenix had managed to announce an engagement to the viscount within the past day. Surely they had not been engaged long – and word must have been misheard, for neither of them would have been able to sustain a secret engagement for long. She doubted the colonel would have sat beside the viscount at the concert – or spent so much time around both Phoenix and the viscount – if he had known that they were attached. She shook her head, it would not do well to speculate until she heard the news from Phoenix himself. Lady Franziska looked positively angry at the news, and Maya worried for Phoenix’s future with her as his sister-in-law. 

Phoenix was not waiting for her when she rushed into the drawing room, but her housekeeper, Mrs. Carter, presented a note that had been left for her:

M, 

No doubt the news has spread that Lord Miles and I are engaged. I promise I will explain when I return, but we are going to Bishop Selwick to ask for a common licence. 

Please reassure the countess that everything is alright.

-P

Maya sighed. Usually upon an engagement, the nuptials were announced at church for three weeks as to give opportunity for others to object. The purchasing of a common licence meant that the couple could be married sooner, though still in a church. It wasn’t uncommon for higher stationed families to purchase common licences, but Maya couldn’t help but shake the feeling that something had caused Phoenix to rush into this, that time was of the essence. 

Writing a quick note relaying Phoenix’s note to Lady Franziska, Maya collapsed onto her sofa as she anxiously waited for his return. 

***

To say Franziska was furious was an understatement. The nerve of Miles to get engaged to that man, and not tell her was inexcusable. She had fully believed him to be unwell and had not even approached his door that morning when he had not come down at breakfast, reasoning that he needed to rest. Only now to find that he had been foolishly falling in love with Phoenix Wright, a man who was below his station, and was planning to marry him. The colonel had not been a better candidate for Miles, but at least he had a title and clearly enjoyed lavishing Miles with attention. 

Lady Maya’s note reached her within minutes of her returning to Highcroft. The fools might be off to apply to the bishop for a common licence, but Franziska was not so foolish to think it was because they were so desperately in love, or because it made sense for a viscount to marry under a common license with the fee of ten shillings being a pittance for someone with such a title. She paced in the drawing room, pausing only to snack on light refreshments so that her strength, and fury, would be in full when her foolish brother finally arrived home. She had just finished her tea when the fool strode into the drawing room. 

“There you are!” Franziska pounced before Miles could leave the room with haste, freezing at her greeting, “Leave us.” She addressed the servants who did not need to hear details of their argument. 

“Miles Edgeworth, what on earth have you done?” She demanded in a low murmur.

“I-” He crossed his arms, his face dark with emotion.

“I’ll tell you what has happened,” Franziska interrupted, “You left in the middle of the performance last night, leaving me to believe you were ill. I scarcely see or hear from you all day before I find out from gossip that, not only have you apparently been secretly engaged but, you are engaged to that man?” She stormed loudly.

There was no reply, Miles would not meet her eye. 

“Miles Edgeworth, you threaten to involve our name in yet more scandal with the sudden nature of such an engagement. It is not to be borne! Least of all for him to marry a viscount such as you?” She chastised, “How did this happen? Explain yourself.” 

Demanding, she folded her arms, gripping the sleeve of her striped green dress and Miles sighed, in what sounded like frustration.

“I… proposed to Wright, and he accepted.”

“Yes, but how.” Franziska pressed, “When?”

“...during the intermission of the performance last night.” Miles admitted.

“After Wright left so abruptly?”

“Yes, I found him in the back garden.” Miles continued, “And-”

“Dear lord, please do not tell me he compromised you.” The last thing they needed was gossip like this. When Miles did not immediately answer, she covered her mouth in angry shock as she turned away to process the unfathomable answer, “The uncouth nerve of him-”

“Actually… it was me.”

The soft words struck through her like lightning, and Franziska whipped around to glare at Miles again, “What did you do?”

“I only kissed him-”

“Only?” Franziska screeched. It was a good thing the servants were not hearing Miles’ quiet declarations, but he made it sound like he had merely held Wright’s hand. To have kissed him was… beyond belief.

“And the colonel found us-” Franziska groaned in shame as Miles continued, “-so I did the best I could to save both of us.” He finished declaratively, and Franziska could not comprehend how her little brother could have done such actions with such little remorse.

“And by doing so, will bring scandal into the Edgeworth and Von Karma name, no doubt.” she sniffed, “I never thought you so foolish as to ruin yourself for such a man.”

Miles’ eyes snapped up to meet hers, “Such a man?” He whispered hoarsely, “You say that as if he is a common street urchin, Franziska.”

“His family are merchants.” She stressed. Clearly Miles had not considered all the aspects of this entanglement, unless she presented them to him.

“So were mine, until your father pushed for the title of viscount!” Miles roared back, “We grew up as the children of gentlemen, and he is still every bit as kind and brilliant as I remember him to be. I see it no different if he were to marry me, as if he were to marry any of the ladies in town. He has not ruined me! It was my actions that threatened to ruin him!”

The stubbornness of her little brother really was childish.

“The fact remains that he is stationed beneath you!” Franziska cried, “And if married to you, he would then also be raised to viscount! I cannot even fathom why you decided that engaging yourself to the man was the only solution.”

“Because I love him!” Miles snapped, as Franziska’s eyes widened. The sudden declaration of his feelings seem to have shocked even Miles, for he seemed to curl into himself, turning away from Franziska.

Miles Edgeworth had never declared his love for anyone as long as Franziska had known him. Even she had declared herself in love as a foolish teenager, to the fury of her papa, but never had Miles mentioned, nor declared, any sort of affections in her memory. Yet, whether he knew it or not, Phoenix Wright seemed to hold Miles’ heart in his hands.

“You do?” She whispered after a beat, as Miles merely nodded.

“Yes, and… now I have ruined his hope at happiness.” Miles answered miserably, “I let the colonel toy with me, and Wright by extension. Any feelings he had are gone – he said so himself last night – and yet I have trapped him by forcing him to marry me, by spinning this story of a secret engagement.”

Franziska rolled her eyes at her brother’s dramatic turn. There was a very simple answer, if Miles believed that he would be responsible for Wright’s eternal unhappiness. 

“If you feel he is so unhappy, you could always call the engagement off,” Franziska suggested coolly.

Miles narrowed his eyes on her.

“And cause even greater scandal in the process?” Miles retaliated, “Being scorned in love has made you cruel, Franziska, to think that I would hurt the man in such a way.”

It did not seem so cruel to do so on her end, but Miles seemed completely taken aback at the very suggestion. Franziska huffed. She would have called off her engagement with Adrian if she had known the lady’s true affections lay elsewhere. It was a great shame that she did not get the satisfaction of doing so. Adrian deserved every bit of hurt, for the way that she had scorned Franziska. She only hoped that wherever her affections lay next, that she would not be scorned again. Looking at Miles, he was determined only to make himself unhappy in the middle of this mess.

She sighed, tersely, “So, you are proceeding with this ridiculous farce knowing that Wright may not reciprocate your feelings, and that you are determined to be unhappy together?”

“I must, for both of us.” Miles said with a melancholic air, “I would rather die than let him be so publicly shamed because of my actions. It is my fault alone, and I deserve to feel ashamed of the pain I cause him. I can only hope he will learn to tolerate me.”

As he uttered those statements, the pain in his voice struck a chord with Franziska. Her little brother was suffering, and she did not know how to help.

“You know you could be much happier if you did not go through with this.” She murmured, almost consolingly, “I… do not like to see you suffer like this. We could fix-”

“Franziska, what’s done is done. Let me suffer the consequences of my actions. I only ask you to keep your opinions on Wright silent, as you asked me of Lady Andrews.”

Franziska scowled at this. Miles had done as she asked, of course he had, but it would be hard to bury her feelings about Phoenix Wright. The man was far too open and carefree for her liking, and he did not seem like a good match for Miles, regardless of Miles’ feelings for him.

But this was Miles. Even if he made the most foolish decisions, he was still her little brother, and she would hate to lose his companionship.

“Fine,” She agreed reluctantly, “So, did the bishop approve the common licence?”

Miles nodded, “We told him that we had been secretly engaged since the Fey Ball – love at first sight, apparently, and he approved,” Franziska nodded, of course the bishop would approve such a romantic story, even if it was all a lie.

“And the wedding?”

“Two Sunday’s time. We did not want to rush so quickly into the wedding for that would appear more suspicious – gives more time for our story to be spread and the ‘secret’ engagement to become known. But the wedding itself will be private – can... can I count on your being there?”

He asked so tentatively as if she would not be the one walking him down the aisle.

“Of course,” She snapped, “Let me be clear, I think you are making a mistake. But nonetheless, I will not cause further gossip by being absent at my brother’s wedding.”

Miles bowed deeply with a smile, “Thank you Franziska.”

She harrumphed at his gratitude. Little brothers could be the most vexing creatures known to women-kind.

***

At least when he and Lord Edgeworth – Miles – went to beseech Bishop Selwick to let them purchase a common licence, the bishop believed them enough in love and their story of a secret engagement. Miles had already planned the story, and Phoenix was all to happy to agree to help prove their case as young lovers. Phoenix knew it was a great relief for both of them to prevent too much speculation spreading, but it didn’t stop the shame that flooded him as he returned to Fey Manor afterwards to invite Maya’s reaction to his engagement. 

The baroness greeted him by calmly gesturing to the spot beside her on the sofa and looking at him expectantly. That was all he needed to blurt out the detailed events of the night.

“That was quick thinking on the viscount’s part,” Maya agreed, “But, Phoenix, are you sure about this?”

“What else can I do?” Phoenix moaned, “The colonel had found us, Maya. I should be grateful that he did not demand a duel for the viscount, or did not immediately turn around and gather the attention of everyone else in the hall.”

“Even so, can you go through with marrying the viscount?” Maya probed cautiously, “I know you are old friends, and we have all seen you dance together…”

“Of course, I am willing to marry him,” Phoenix declared, “I would have been even if we hadn’t been found in that garden, or if I had had the nerve to declare my feelings sooner. But we know the viscount did not want to be married, and now I have trapped him into doing so!” 

Phoenix could not help but despair at the situation he had created. He and Miles were only supposed to grow in their friendship, not be thrust into a spontaneous engagement and a subsequently quick marriage. How the man must despise him for this turn of events. 

“What makes you so sure the viscount does not truly reciprocate your feelings?” Maya challenged.

“I… I just am,” Phoenix answered simply, “I cannot explain it, but I know him.”

Maya hummed with slight disbelief. 

“Please, Maya,” Phoenix murmured, “Do not worry on my account. I will find ways to spend my time and be happy enough. I will already be disappointing the viscount, I do not want to disappoint you in the same manner.”

“Phoenix, you could never disappoint me,” Maya said soothingly, “I only wish to see you happily married.”

“Me too.” Phoenix sighed.

Chapter Text

The town had been positively thrilled at the news of their ‘secret’ engagement, and Phoenix had received so many well-wishes as never before. He wished he could tell them it was all a lie, that they should despise him for he was taking the viscount to the altar against his wishes.

Nonetheless, under the guise of love, they endured each day in each other’s company and sometimes in the company of Maya and Lady Franziska. Their time together was mostly in silence, for conversation certainly had not come so easily to Phoenix, nor Miles, with the viscount reading whatever was at hand and Phoenix found himself drawing aimlessly – some sketches looked like Highcroft, others looked like a familiar garden, while others dared to envision two happy groomsmen.

All sketches were discarded quickly after their creation.

Phoenix wished he could tell him how much he knew he was hurting Miles, but the words could never formulate on his tongue. Any brief conversation they shared over those days related only to preparations for the rapidly approaching wedding. On more than one occasion, however, Phoenix thought Miles had gone to say something else before he closed his mouth in silence before resuming reading.

Before he knew it, the day had arrived.

Sunday morning was bright, clear, and crisp. Phoenix awoke to the sunlight streaming into his bedchamber – bedchambers that would no longer be just his after this morning, for the adjacent room would be occupied by his husband, separated only by a door. He swallowed hard, it was strange to imagine Miles in these rooms, in this house. 

For the first time that morning, and at least the twentieth time since they had become engaged, painful recollection made Phoenix’s stomach turn with shame and guilt. He had berated Miles for taunting him, had told him that he had had feelings for Miles, he had kissed him back, and now they were getting married because they had been easily caught. If the colonel hadn’t found them, then Phoenix would not be sitting on his bed in incredible disbelief that he was about to marry his childhood friend. Instead, Phoenix would be…

Well, he likely would be feeling guilty that he had kissed Miles in the first place, so that would not have changed. It made his mind wonder what would have happened if the colonel had not found them?

Perhaps Miles would have ceased kissing him, and stormed off, promising never to talk to him again – the kiss just a way to cease Phoenix’s talking, meaningless as he suspected it had been. Perhaps Miles would have instead professed his preference for the colonel, with the kiss as a consolation prize for Phoenix.

Or, perhaps Miles would have proposed all the same, their nuptials to be announced in church for the second time this morning as they waited the customary three weeks.

Regardless, it did not help for Phoenix to dwell on what could have been. He had to get ready for his wedding.

***

Miles rose with the dawn. The day looked to be cool and clear – a simple day that would end with him married. He knew Phoenix must be dreading the day, resenting that Miles ever kissed him, resenting that they were now to walk down the aisle together, soon to be forever united in the guise of love. 

A bath had been drawn for him, the warm water easing some of the apprehension of the day. As Miles washed his face, he could not help but appreciate the great change that was about to happen. He and Phoenix were to be married – their families and estates united. A couple deeply in love would be thrilled at that prospect, but Miles only felt uneasy. They had agreed to spend their wedding night at Elmridge House, since Franziska still resided at Highcroft, and newlyweds were generally allowed a period of seclusion for their honeymoon. 

Apart from the gallery viewing at Elmridge House, their forced time together in the past week in the drawing room, and a few cherished childhood memories, Miles was unfamiliar with the house. He hoped Phoenix would not expect them to have separate bedchambers, but realised it was likely – if the man had nothing to say to him over the past week, he very likely could not stand to share the same bed as him. As for Highcroft, the master suite was still untouched, out of memory of his father, and there were no other conjoined bedrooms in the house, so Phoenix would have to make do with sharing a room with Miles – that is, if he ever agreed to stay at Highcroft at all. 

Miles sighed – there was no use pondering such things until they were married at least. He stepped gingerly out of the bath, servants helping him towel off before he donned a fine black coat. 

***

The church was quiet and still – the morning service having ended an hour prior. The vicar, Mr. Sculthorpe, stood at the end of the aisle expectantly. Phoenix entered the main hall with Maya escorting him on her arm, a vision of lilac against his black coat. He saw Pearl standing at the front pew on the left, dressed in light blue, a big smile on her face. Halfway down the aisle, Miles strode down the aisle escorted by his only family – Lady Franziska, who wore a simple, light, gold-coloured, gown. The sight of his betrothed nearly took Phoenix’s breath away as realisation crashed upon him that in a matter of minutes, they would be wed and Miles would be his husband. 

Phoenix’s heart threatened to burst, or at least leap out of his chest. Putting her hand on the one that held her other arm, Maya smiled at Phoenix reassuringly. It eased the nerves ever so slightly as they started to move down the aisle. Miles was now waiting for him at the other end, Lady Franziska having taken her place at the front right pew. The sunlight streamed through the windows above, casting the aisle in a brilliant light that shone off the white marble floor. It danced across Miles’ face, bathing him in warmth, making those grey eyes sparkle. 

Phoenix found himself unable to look anywhere but at his future husband, anxious as he was. The corners of Miles’ mouth turned upwards ever so slightly, the small smile sending flutters through Phoenix’s body as he blushed. There was no time to ponder or contemplate the guilt that had wracked his body that morning, for with each step down the aisle, he became ever closer to being married. 

The flowers pinned to the viscount’s jacket caught Phoenix’s attention as he neared the end of the aisle – a small cluster of baby’s breath, blue forget-me-nots, and a single, small pink peony. 

A small gasp escaped his lips as he understood their meaning: everlasting love, true love, and shame. It could not have been clearer – the viscount’s affection for him would always be laced with embarrassment, guilt, and shame for being in such a position in the first place, and everlasting in its nature.

They had reached the end of the aisle, where Miles waited to step in front of the vicar with Phoenix in hand. Maya untangled her arm from Phoenix’s and, with a small kiss of friendship on his cheek, took her place beside Pearl. Phoenix turned to Miles, taking his outstretched hand, as they stepped forward to face the vicar, side by side, and hand in hand. 

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here this morning, to join these men together in matrimony,” The vicar proclaimed, as Phoenix looked to his right to look at his future husband who seemed collected as always, if not a little flushed. Phoenix supposed he should be happy, if not apprehensive, but the guilt that had disappeared as he had walked down the aisle flooded him now. 

“I require and charge you both, that if any persons present here have any reason why this couple may not be lawfully joined together, you do now confess it.” Mr Sculthorpe declared to the small party. 

Phoenix could not help but close his eyes, waiting with bated breath, convinced that Miles would suddenly cry out that he could not possibly continue with this – that this marriage was a mistake and he would leave. 

***

Miles looked to his left at Phoenix, in near paralytic fear that he would declare this marriage a farce and leave with all haste. Phoenix himself appeared to be bracing for some impact, his eyes closed with the slightest frown on his face. Yet, the vicar’s words echoed within the stone walls of the church with no reply, and Miles breathed a quiet sigh of relief, a similar sigh he was sure came from Phoenix simultaneously.

“Then, Miles Edgeworth,” Miles turned as the vicar addressed him, “will you have this man to be your wedded husband, to live together, to love, comfort, and honour him, and keep him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others and keeping yourself only unto him, so long as you both shall live?”

“I will.” Miles declared with a sudden confidence. He would do all that and more for Phoenix, who deserved every part of his love and affection, as long as he would allow him. 

Mr. Sculthorpe nodded with a smile, before turning to Phoenix.

“And, Phoenix Wright, will you…” The vicar asked the same question as Phoenix turned to face Miles before murmuring, 

“I-I will,” with a small smile that shone as bright as the sun. 

“Then turn to take each other’s hands,” The vicar instructed, as Miles turned to face Phoenix, seeing the small bundle of flowers pinned to his lapel in greater detail as they stood out against the black jacket: a red tulip, a white peony, and a sprig of heliotrope. Miles could not help but blush at their meaning – a declaration of love, bashfulness, and devotion or eternal love. 

Had Phoenix decided to love him? Perhaps only out of obligation – that must have been what the peony symbolised – Phoenix’s shyness or shame feeling the obligation to love Miles only because of their actions, the bashful nature of such love to be eternal as symbolised by the heliotrope. 

“Miles,” The vicar addressed, “Repeat after me. I, Miles Edgeworth-”

“I, Miles Edgeworth-” Miles repeated dutifully.

“-take thee, Phoenix Wright, to be my lawfully wedded husband-”

“-take thee… Phoenix Wright, to be my lawfully wedded husband-” Miles’ heart fluttered instinctively at the word ‘husband’.

“-to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish, till death us do part.”

Miles repeated with solemn promise, unable to help the small smile that broke out as he finished the statement. 

***

Truly, Phoenix did not believe there could be anyone else present at this ceremony, for he could not look anywhere else but the dark grey eyes that fixated on his own. The small smile that spread across Miles’ face was contagious, and Phoenix could not help but smile in return. It seemed like it was them, and the vicar, alone in this church.

“Phoenix, repeat after me.” The vicar instructed, “I, Phoenix Wright-”

“I, Phoenix Wright-”

“-take thee, Miles Edgeworth, to be my lawfully wedded husband-”

These words did not seem real, could not possibly be real, and yet the hands that held him so gently were Miles’, the eyes that sparkled in the light were Miles’, and the man he loved was Miles.

“...take thee, Miles Edgeworth, to be my lawfully wedded husband-”

“-to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish, till death us do part.”

Phoenix could not help the blush that burned on his face as he repeated the vow, finding that it was near impossible not to smile at the end of the promise as Miles had done first. 

“Now, for the rings.” The vicar proclaimed, as both Phoenix and Miles dropped their hands and pulled a ring from each of their pockets, laying them on the book in front of the vicar – Phoenix’s on the right page, and Miles’ on the left. 

“Miles, take Phoenix’s left hand,” The vicar encouraged gently, and, picking up the ring on the left side of the book, he handed the ring to Miles, “Repeat after me.”

“With this ring,” The vicar started as Miles repeated dutifully in turn, “I thee wed, with my body I thee worship.”

“-with my body… I thee worship.” Miles finished in a near whisper with wide eyes as he slid the ring onto Phoenix’s fourth finger. It fit with ease, a simple band of gold, that sat on his finger as if it had always been there. 

“And now, Phoenix, take Miles’ hand,” Mr. Sculthorpe continued, giving the ring on the right page back to Phoenix, “With this ring…”

“With this ring, I thee wed,” Phoenix repeated as he held his gaze on the dark grey eyes that watched his every move – the vicar’s voice all but echoing distantly in his mind, “...with my body, I thee worship.” He finished the phrase simply, the power of their meaning seemed to echo within the stone walls of the church, almost electrifying the very air between them. 

He slid the ring onto Miles’ finger, it moved just as easily as his own ring had, and Phoenix found himself staying his hold on Miles’ hand as he ran his thumb over the ring and the finger it sat upon. He could not help but look back at his partner, a thrill coursing through his body, Phoenix unable to do anything but smile. The return of Miles’ genuine smile only amplified the emotion in his body.

“As these two have consented together in holy wedlock, witnessed by those present here,” Mr. Sculthorpe declared, “having given and pledged their promise to another and declared the same by giving and receiving of the rings, and by joining of hands; I pronounce that they be united as men and husbands together.”

***

Miles could hardly believe that the man signing the register beside him was now his husband. His mind hardly knew whether it should be proud, bashful, happy, in awe, or simply calm – instead fluttering between each emotion with every passing second. 

The register signed, they were officially declared married – to the excited applause from their three witnesses. The ceremony and legalities complete, Miles stood with Phoenix and offered his arm to hold. Phoenix wordlessly accepted, a blush seemed to be perpetually blooming in on his face, as they strode down the aisle with Franziska, Lady Maya, and Miss Pearl throwing grains of celebratory rice as they did.

A carriage awaited them outside to take them back to the wedding breakfast, Miles helping Phoenix into the carriage with the door promptly closing behind him as they slowly made for Highcroft. 

The familiar sound of hooves on cobblestone nearly always threatened to spark panic in Miles, especially if he dwelt on it during particularly quiet carriage rides, but he found himself lost in the flickering gaze of his husband. Phoenix made no effort for conversation, his eyes darting between the view out the window and resting on Miles with caution. He could not remain silent any longer.

“So…” Miles started as Phoenix raised his eyebrows, “We are… married.”

Phoenix nodded, “And the town is none the wiser to the truth.” He mumbled as Miles nodded, the familiar feeling of despair creeping into his stomach. 

“I-” Miles faltered, “I must apologise for that night in the garden. I drew us into scandal, and I regret forcing you into this marriage against your wishes.” He apologised, “I only hope that… one day I may be worthy of your forgiveness.” Miles whispered hoarsely, as Phoenix looked at him incredulously.

“...we have scarcely been married an hour,” Phoenix muttered, “and you already tell me you regret the situation?” 

“Only because I know you had other plans for marriage, plans that did not involve marrying me!” Miles defended.

“And what about you?” Phoenix objected mournfully, “You declared yourself you did not want matrimony, and yet we are now married, forever attached. Do not tell me you are not ignorant of that fact!” 

“What I want does not matter,” Miles countered dismissively, “but I could not live with myself if this relationship, or our circumstances, or if I alone, made you unhappy, Phoenix.”

It seemed his husband did not have a reply to that, as the carriage ride continued, Highcroft starting to come into view in the distance. Had the ride been more pleasant, Miles would have been able to appreciate the scenic journey they took along the edge of town with the wilderness of the Cotswolds around them, planning to eventually pass by Elmridge House and Fey Manor to reach Highcroft.

“Do you think… in time, we can be happy together?” Phoenix wondered softly as they passed Fey Manor.

Miles had not anticipated this question from Phoenix – the very same words were the ones that Miles himself had been preparing to ask Phoenix.

“I want to think we will,” Miles confessed, “I want to believe we will find contentment.”

The answer seemed to satisfy Phoenix, or placate him at least. 

Having taken a more direct route to Highcroft, Franziska, Lady Maya and Miss Pearl had arrived ahead of them, as hosts for their wedding breakfast. Despite Franziska’s vocal dislike of the whole wedding arrangement, she never did anything by half. A large table with copious amounts of food had been laid out for them. Sliced ham, bacon, a dish of baked eggs, breads and rolls with marmalade and jams, a tray of salmon, and a dish of lamb sat in a line, with a bowl of peaches, strawberries, and apples in the centre. It seemed far too much food for five people, but Miles’ stomach roared at the sight – his nervous anticipation of the ceremony, and the entire day, had made him ravenous.

***

Maya sat in the drawing room, having chosen a plateful of food from the ample offerings on the table. Lady Franziska certainly knew how to cater for guests. She watched as Phoenix and Lord Edgeworth – or should she call him Miles now that he was practically a brother-in-law – sat together at one end of the table, with Maya, Lady Franziska, and Pearl spread out down the table. A small ceremony and wedding breakfast suited the pair of them – but she could tell Phoenix was nervous. The viscount seemed collected as ever; Maya found it difficult to know his feelings. 

“Are… are wedding breakfasts usually this quiet? I thought they were quite loud and joyous.” Pearl murmured across the table to Maya and Lady Franziska.

Maya nodded, “Yes, Pearly, depending on how many attend the wedding, usually the wedding breakfast is just as big as the ceremony. But I think Phoenix and Lord Edgeworth preferred an equally intimate wedding breakfast with just the five of us,” She looked at the newlyweds at the head of the table, “And I think it is quieter as those two are simply nervous. Getting married is exciting, but can be a big change. Deep down, they are probably happy.”

“Indeed,” Lady Franziska agreed, “As for me, when I marry, I intend to have an intimate ceremony but a large wedding breakfast.” 

She looked at Maya, who gulped her food before smiling, “As do I.” 

“Oh, d-do you plan on being married before the end of the season, Lady Franziska?” Pearl inquired politely.

“I… had not planned on finding myself in love so soon after Lady Andrews…” Lady Franziska answered Pearl, though she kept her gaze on Maya, “But, I think sometimes love makes itself known when you are not searching for it – wouldn’t you agree, Lady Maya?”

Maya found her heart in her throat, “I-I do.” A faint blush spread over Lady Franziska’s cheeks, mirrored on Maya’s as they resumed eating in silence while Pearl watched Phoenix and Lord Edgeworth with a sigh of admiration. 

“They look so in love,” She said dreamily, “I wish I could find a handsome husband one day. Though, I think a secret engagement seems unnecessary – I should like to announce to everyone when I am engaged.”

“I am sure you will, Pearly,” Maya chuckled, “But you will have to wait until you are out in society yet.”

The wedding breakfast was spent with quiet chatter, with Pearl even venturing to ask the viscount when he decided to propose to Phoenix at the Fey Ball.

“Oh,” Lord Edgeworth had stammered, “Well, I had always thought of Phoenix even when I was in Carlisle. When I saw him again at the first ball of the season, I knew… I knew I had to dance with him, and after we danced together again and again at the Fey Ball, I- I can’t explain it, but I knew I could only love him.” His cheeks had turned quite pink and Maya noted that Phoenix seemed surprised by his response. 

Fearing Pearl would ask more questions of the two of them, Maya quickly suggested that she and Lady Franziska play for them. They performed a series of songs – mostly with Maya playing pianoforte to the countess’ excellent voice, but Lady Franziska also serenaded the group with her own playing. Maya had wondered whether the viscount would offer to sing as well, but he made no move of the sort. 

With the afternoon sun starting to set, it was time for the newlyweds to depart for Elmridge House. The ladies bid them a fond farewell – Maya gave Phoenix the strongest hug she could manage, with a similar hug to the viscount before kissing him on the cheek in a friendly manner, 

“Look after Phoenix, won’t you?” She asked as the viscount nodded his promise.

Lady Franziska even hugged her brother, quiet words murmured as they parted. To Phoenix, she curtsied as he bowed respectfully in turn.

“Phoenix Wright, you must promise me that you will make my little brother happy.” She commanded, “If I hear of the slightest disagreement or aggravation, you will have me to answer to.”

“Of course, my lady,” Phoenix bowed again, without a hint of fear in his voice, “Miles is lucky to have you as his sister.” He said earnestly, before he and the viscount stepped into the carriage, sitting opposite each other. Phoenix waved out the window to the women as they took off, continuing to wave back to Maya until they rounded the corner and the light became too poor to see them. 

Maya sighed, not without some tears in her eyes at the happy occasion – even if Phoenix’s love for the viscount was unrequited, she knew he would do everything in his power to make the viscount happy. She only hoped he could be equally as happy. 

“My lady,” Lady Franziska murmured at her side, “It is getting late, nearly dinner time, and I find myself in need of company, being alone tonight. Would it trouble you and Miss Pearl to stay for dinner? My men can escort you home in the carriage afterwards.” Hope lingered in the air as the countess posed the question.

“I – that is we – would be incredibly happy to.” Maya smiled, taking Lady Franziska’s arm as they walked back into the house.

***

The short carriage ride from Highcroft to Elmridge House felt like an eternity in the silence between Phoenix and his husband. He had been grateful for the food that Lady Franziska had supplied. He was able to eat his fill, suppressing the new anticipation of the fact that once he arrived at his estate with his new husband, they would have to consummate the  marriage. 

Every couple was expected to consummate, it was in part the reason for the wedding night, yet Phoenix found himself incredibly nervous that Miles would refuse to even be in the same room or look at him, let alone touch him. Miles had also brought with him a small suitcase with clothes, for they had planned to reside together at Elmridge House, in relative seclusion, for at least a week. If they had been man and wife, there would have been a longer seclusion period with the expectation that, once the marriage had been consummated, they would be attempting to conceive the first of many children. For a same-sex couple, that was not the case but society liked to allow the newlyweds some privacy in their first few weeks of married life nonetheless. 

The privacy almost made Phoenix more nervous but he could not dwell on it for nearly as soon as they had left Highcroft, it seemed they had arrived at Elmridge House just as quickly. The housekeeper, Mrs. Stone, and the servants were already on the steps of the house, awaiting the newlywed’s arrival to greet Lord Edgeworth as Phoenix’s new husband. 

“My Lord Viscount Edgeworth,” Mrs. Stone curtsied deeply, the servants following suit, “It is a pleasure to welcome you to Elmridge House. I have prepared the bedchambers as per Mr. Wright’s request, and I hope everything is to your liking.” Miles bowed as Phoenix led him through the entrance hall and up the stairs towards his – their – bedchambers. 

Pushing open the door, Phoenix stepped into the counterpart to his bedroom. A large four-poster bed sat against the left wall, the sheets atop were a plain cream-colour. The room was largely untouched, clearly no one had slept here for many years. Phoenix anxiously watched Miles cast an eye over the room, and when he did not seem entirely displeased with the arrangements, he continued, 

“My room is the next over, we are separated only by that door.” Phoenix pointed to a door in the left corner of the room.

“Oh,” Miles uttered, a tone of sadness as he did so.

“You- you are displeased?” Phoenix inquired, as his stomach sank. He had barely been married a day, and he had already disappointed his husband. 

“I- I confess I had hoped we would be sharing a bedchamber,” Miles admitted quietly. 

“R-Really?” Phoenix repeated, astonished – he had been quite convinced that Miles would not want to linger in the same room as him for any period of time, “I apologise, I thought you would not want to share a room.” He finished meekly.

“You are my husband, now, Phoenix,” Miles stated firmly, “I think it a shame when married couples not to share a bedchamber or bed, while they share a house and a life together.” He asserted, appearing to have given this matter great thought. Phoenix was only too happy to oblige, though apprehension bloomed in his chest at the thought of sharing a room, let alone a bed, with Miles.

“In that case, ourroom is this way,” Phoenix moved quickly, opening the door to his bedchamber. It was a neat room, but more obviously inhabited. There were belongings on the dresser, nightclothes laid out on top of the clothes chest, an armchair with a mirror in the corner. Phoenix berated himself internally for leaving the bottle of olive oil on the bedside table.

“Perhaps we use the next room as a dressing room?” Phoenix suggested quickly as Miles nodded before looking at him with a small smile. 

“It is perfect.” His husband uttered softly as Phoenix chuckled weakly, “Shall we… get ready for bed?”

Phoenix nodded, refusing to acknowledge the spark that lit in the pit of his belly. He unpinned the boutonniere at his lapel, the flowers having wilted slightly as they sat on the dresser, as he moved to take off his coat, laying it on the armchair. Miles followed suit, laying his own boutonniere beside Phoenix’s on the dresser, before removing his own jacket and placing it atop his suitcase which a servant had hastily placed in the room moments before their entry. 

“I am sure the chambers in Highcroft are much more elegant,” Phoenix chattered as he began to unbutton his waistcoat, “Speaking of, what will we do about our estates?”

Miles, in the middle of removing his cravat, paused thoughtfully, “They are ours, we can decide how we wish to split our time, now that they will merge. We may spend some months at Elmridge, and some months at Highcroft. Both are an easy walking distance, and I do enjoy my library at Highcroft now.”

“And both estates would easily be inherited by any children we had, so they will always be ours together.” Phoenix thought aloud.

“C-Children?” Miles spluttered, the cravat removed from his neck, his pale throat visible between the open collar of his white shirt. The sight made Phoenix’s breath catch for a moment, if he had not been focused on the viscount’s apparent objection. 

“O-of course,” Phoenix replied, with an air of concern, “D-do you not wish for children?” Phoenix was already regretting blurting out his plans for the future – he had not even considered that Miles would have different plans that perhaps would not align with his own.

“You wish to have children… with me?” Miles restated.

Phoenix frowned. He had assumed that Miles would demand children – children could divert their time from each other, less time to spend in each other’s company. Yet, the man seemed completely surprised that Phoenix wanted children just the same and even more so that he would still want them with Miles. 

“Of course,” Phoenix stated, his tone indicating the obvious nature of the answer.

“But-” Miles blustered, “But why?”

“Why?” Phoenix repeated, perplexed, “Am I so repulsive to you, that it is so unbelievable to start a family with me?”

“Not in the slightest!” Miles assured, with a pleading tone in his voice, “It is only that I forced you into this! It is my fault enough you had to marry me – I do not wish to force you to build a family you do not want to have.”

“I would say the same to you!” Phoenix snapped, “You told me you were not interested in matrimony, and it is my fault that we had to be married so quickly, despite your feelings about marriage. Do not think me ignorant of how you must despise me for that reason.”

“I-” The anger in Miles’ face vanished, replaced by sorrow, “Is… is that what you think?”

“Is it not true?” Phoenix quipped as he turned away to try and remove his shirt, which was hard to do in the middle of this conversation, “I was so angered by the colonel’s words, and when you found me in the garden, I – stupidly – confessed my feelings for you, and then… then we kissed and-”

“Have you forgotten that it was I who kissed you first?” Miles reminded.

“I’m sure only out of pity – had I not been so incensed by the colonel, he probably would have made you an offer of marriage and you would have preferred to accept his hand, rather than be forced into asking for mine.” Phoenix found himself rambling as he loosened the buttons of his own white shirt. “I was jealous, and if I had not acted a fool, we would not be here arguing like this. Please, I know I have shamefully ruined your life by making you enter this marriage against your wishes. Leave me to feel the guilt of my own actions.”

The last of the buttons finally loosened, Phoenix turned around to see Miles standing aghast in only his collared white shirt and black breeches. He had rolled the sleeves of his shirt up his forearms, and Phoenix could not describe the ways that the very sight caused his brain to scramble. 

“You- You believe yourself to be guilty?” Miles breathed, “Phoenix, it was my doing that led us to this turn of events. I was the one who kissed you, I pursued you into the garden, I let the colonel whisper those vulgar sentiments into my- our- ears and did nothing, when I knew it irked you immensely.” Miles scowled, turning away, “The fault, the shame, is mine alone. I know your feelings for me – you have played along with the facade, you have done your duty, perhaps you have even felt obliged to love me because of this situation. But, I beg you need not pretend any longer, for I know you do not love me.” He finished bitterly. 

“On the contrary, it is because I love you so much that I was willing to marry you,” Phoenix rejoined, without a shred of shame in his confession, “I could never love you merely from obligation. I- Oh, Miles, I loved you from our first dance, and I will continue to love you now that we are married, even if you do not, and can not, return my affections.”

Miles turned to face him at this, a faint glimmer of hope on his face.

“Oh, can’t you see, Phoenix?” Miles whispered, “It is because I hold such strong affection for you that I married you in the first place. I would do anything to protect you because I… I love you.” The confession was barely a whisper but declarative in its nature all the same. All feelings of guilt and despair vanished with the realisation that if Phoenix loved him even a fraction, Miles reciprocated his love in equal, if not greater, measure. 

Phoenix could not find the words to reply, instead stepping forward towards his husband, holding his face with the same softness that Miles had held him in the garden nights ago, kissing him deeply. 

Chapter Text

The feeling of soft skin under his hands, soft lips that nibbled at his own, as he found himself kissing with such hunger as if he had been starving. Phoenix knew that since Miles had kissed him the first time he had been haunted by the touch of him, the desire that had been sparked within the pit of his stomach, stoking a greedy heat further down between his hips. He had been starving – starving to feel his husband’s hands as they roamed across his back, as they held his shoulders with a sense of never letting go; starving to feel Miles press himself against Phoenix so wantonly, a silent plea for more. 

A silent plea that Phoenix would easily oblige. 

“Can I-” Miles said, breathless as he looked at Phoenix, adoration and lust in his eyes.

“Yes.” Phoenix agreed without hesitation, basking in the touch of Miles’ hand on his lower back.

“You do not know what I have asked,” Miles chuckled.

“It does not matter,” Phoenix replied, “I want you, Miles.” Miles’ eyes widened, the lust in the grey eyes dilating his pupils.

“And I, you,” He answered hoarsely.

“Then take me.” Phoenix offered, as his fingers moved to Miles’ waist, untucking his white shirt and pulling it off him without a second thought as Miles did the same. Phoenix could not help but bathe in the sight of his shirtless, bare-chested husband, toned muscles rippling down his sides. The flex of muscles in his shoulder as he tossed Phoenix’s shirt away only added to the roaring fire in his groin that made his breeches incredibly tight. Phoenix did not have time to think before Miles’ lips found themselves on his cheek, planting soft kisses in a trail to his ear and down his neck. 

“Miles,” Phoenix moaned. Such thrilling sensations that coursed from his neck down to his hip and extended to his toes, had to be only a fantasy – but the surge of blood to his groin told him otherwise. A hand reached down to caress the very spot, and Phoenix thought he would nearly faint at the touch.

“Let me help you,” Miles murmured with a smile on his face, his deft hands quickly undoing the buttons as Phoenix’s breeches dropped to the floor with a soft thud, his erect member springing free, twitching slightly with the sudden cool air. Phoenix couldn’t help but blush at his obvious state of arousal, and the sudden attention on him. Miles seemed to take a step back, and Phoenix worried for a second that his husband would find him repulsive.

“Phoenix,” Miles breathed, “You are… Gods, you are so beautiful.” Miles’ eyes wandered all over Phoenix, resting with a look of hunger on his manhood, “Will you lie down for me?”

Phoenix nodded numbly, moving to shuffle onto the bed, as he watched Miles peel his own breeches off him as fast as he could. The glow of the candlelight only made him seem to shimmer, a veritable golden glow from his flushed face down to the incredibly stiff erection between his legs. A sigh escaped Phoenix’s lips before he could silence himself. 

“You are-” Phoenix faltered, the diversion of blood to his cock making it hard for his head to think – he was so incredibly tense.

“Kiss me.” He mumbled in the absence of any other words to say.

With a smirk, Miles crawled onto the bed, resting atop Phoenix as he kissed him with unbridled passion. The searing heat of his member pressed against Phoenix’s, delicious tension and friction building as they shifted together, eager to taste each other. 

“God, you’re just as incredible as I imagine you late at night,” Phoenix found himself admitting before Miles paused his kisses.

“You… imagined yourself with me?” Miles wondered, the smirk remaining on his face, “Even when you thought my feelings were not genuine?”

“And plenty of times before that,” Phoenix confided bashfully, “Whenever I found myself in bed at night, in need of release, I often pictured… you.”

It was not a sin to masturbate, but incredibly private even so, and he had assumed that Miles would never discover his late night activities – at least if they were not sharing a room together. He saw Miles’ eyes cast over to the bedside table, before lingering on a bottle of olive oil, with a small smile.

“I must confess the same,” Miles looked back at him, near adoration in his eyes, “All the more so this past week, as I imagined touching you like this-”

Miles’ large hand traced down Phoenix’s chest before a feather-light touch stroked itself from the base to the tip of Phoenix’s cock. Intense sensation rippled throughout Phoenix at the touch as he bucked against his husband.

“And, I imagined-” Miles groaned, heavy with lust, “Making you…” His breathing was ragged already.

“Phoenix… I-I need you.”

“Take me, show me what you do in your dreams,” Phoenix whined as Miles continued to stroke him ever so gently. He thought he should burst if Miles continued, “I want you to make me yours. Please.”

Wordlessly, Miles grabbed the small bottle of olive oil, as Phoenix watched him coat two fingers before he gently probed at his ass.

“Are you ready?” He cautioned, as Phoenix nodded with a slight wince, as Miles eased a finger inside him, brief discomfort as he pushed past the tight ring of muscle, only a knuckle at first, in delicious, tight, ecstasy. Immediately, Phoenix hungered for more. The gasp that he made had been involuntary, but he found it difficult to remain silent when his husband was slowly fingering him. 

“More, please.” Phoenix moaned, his wide eyes staring at Miles, who silently obliged as he slowly buried his whole finger deep inside Phoenix, who moaned loudly in response to the fuller sensation.

“You are so perfect, and so warm around me, Phoenix,” Miles crooned. Phoenix could do nothing else but moan and clench around him as he pumped gently before adding a second finger, stretching him out amidst Phoenix’s cries of ecstasy. Phoenix thought he could feel no other perfect sensation for as long as he lived, at least until Miles kissed a sweet spot on his hip while his fingers coaxed every pleasurable sound and feeling from within his body. 

Phoenix was far too pleasantly occupied to worry whether the servants could hear their lovemaking, though he suspected it was hard not to. It was difficult not to moan loudly when Miles made him feel so good. Just when Phoenix thought he was on the precipice of a climax, Miles slipped out of him, a reflexive moan of disappointment uttered from Phoenix’s lips. 

“Only a moment, my love,” Miles soothed as he gently spread Phoenix’s legs before fisting himself briefly. The sight of Miles leaning over him, naked and cock in hand, with Phoenix spread in front of him like a common whore sent shivers through his body – the sight forever permeated into his memory. The world seemed to still as Miles leaned forward, a sudden heat pressing at Phoenix’s entrance. 

“Are… Are you sure you want this?” Miles questioned quietly, as Phoenix nodded enthusiastically. With a gentle thrust, Phoenix felt the tip of Miles’ cock penetrate him with careful force, as Phoenix could not help but clench around him as he did so, “You must tell me if it is unbearable, and I will stop. But try and relax.” Phoenix did as he asked, the warmth of Miles between his legs easing the temporary discomfort as he entered him. The heavy sensation of Miles inside him, and only the tip at that, was entirely unlike anything Phoenix had ever felt, different again from the feeling of his fingers from moments ago.

“Holy-” Phoenix exclaimed, “Fuck, Miles.” He could not help but swear – there seemed no other words appropriate for the incredible heat and pressure of his husband barely inside him. Even fewer words seemed appropriate when Miles gently sheathed himself entirely into Phoenix, halting for a moment as Phoenix cried out – overwhelmed, happy, full. 

Miles paused, taking the time for Phoenix to adjust to taking all of him inside at once, as Phoenix looked up at his husband in awe. Dark strands of hair fell around his face, framing those beautiful eyes. The vision was stunning and, if there wasn’t a greater feeling of pleasure overwhelming him, Phoenix would have seized the opportunity to paint his husband exactly as he appeared.

“Move, please.” Phoenix begged, as Miles began thrusting in a slow rhythm. Phoenix was painfully aware of the friction of his cock against Miles’ stomach, building tension in tandem with his husband’s movements. Any awareness of how his limbs moved or where they were, what sounds he made, or any other sights in the room dimmed sharply, save for the sight, sound, and feel of the man atop him. 

His beautiful, perfect husband. 

“Phoenix,” Miles moaned slowly, “Fuck, you are…” He thrusted with the same, achingly slow rhythm, “-so perfect.” 

Phoenix nodded without hesitation, “As are you,” He whined, “Gods, Miles, I- You make me feel so intensely, I think I will faint.”

“We can’t have that,” Miles looked at him in a serious manner, as he sped up the pace, Phoenix’s appreciation made clear with each loud vocalisations that accompanied every thrust. Laying more atop him, Miles wrapped his arms underneath Phoenix, holding him close – each thrust picking up pace, the careful rhythm now a coarse tune, a sloppy cacophony of skin against skin and Phoenix’s cries of pleasure. Phoenix could only grip Miles’ back as he did so, holding so tightly as if this were a dream that could slip away so easily. With Miles holding him so close, Phoenix buried his face against his husband’s shoulder, slightly muffling his moans, as Miles’ cock thrust into him with great friction, the heat of his own member between their stomachs. The early signs of a climax smearing itself onto the two of them, as Phoenix cried out, 

“It’s too much, Miles,” Phoenix yelped, his voice rough, the words ragged with his breath, “it’s too-, I’m close-”

“As am I, my love,” Miles grunted in his ear, the heat only adding to the likely reality that Phoenix would combust, “Go on...”

Phoenix had not needed the encouragement, his hot seed spurting onto them with a loud moan; Miles’s quick grunts increased rapidly before he released himself inside Phoenix with a loud moan of his own. Wet heat pooled inside Phoenix, the sensation of being filled far surpassing any imagination Phoenix had ever climaxed to by his own hand. 

They lay still for a moment, still conjoined but catching their breaths, Phoenix running his hands through Miles’ grey hair mesmerised as Miles nibbled at Phoenix’s ear.

“I love you, Miles,” Phoenix whispered, “I think… I think I have always loved you.”

Miles propped himself up to look at Phoenix, the lust that had been in his eyes dimmed to be replaced by sheer adoration. He stroked Phoenix’s cheek lovingly, before murmuring,

“I have always loved you too.”

Chapter Text

Dinner with Lady Maya, and Miss Pearl, had been one of the most pleasant evenings Franziska could remember in a while. Perhaps it was the absence of her brother, now that he was married and she had the house to herself for a time. No, there was no point in fooling herself – she knew it was the company of Lady Maya. 

The announcement of Miles’ wedding had been declared in the newspaper that morning and with it, relief on Franziska’s part for there was no further concern for scandal. Even if every person in town had attended the wedding, a marriage was not considered official in society until the wedding announcement was published in the morning paper. 

With the paper, had come a note from Miles during breakfast:

Dearest Franziska, 

Thank you for the brilliant wedding breakfast yesterday. I fear I was too nervous to truly appreciate it, but your efforts were not unnoticed. 

Be assured that it is well between Phoenix and myself. After a long discussion, it seems that he returns my affections as earnestly as I feel for him. We shall be very happy together after all. 

I only hope to see you as happy in the near future. Do not make the same mistake as I – declare your affection as soon as you know it, so that the other person may declare theirs in turn. 

All my love, 

-M

Franziska sighed sharply – of course Phoenix Wright was as foolishly in love with her brother as he was with him. What irked her more was her brother’s annoyingly perceptive instructions. Franziska could not fault them – in seeing the scandal be hastily avoided with a quick wedding, she knew from the start that she did not want this for herself. She wanted the opportunity – again – to declare her love to the person of her affection, to enjoy some time being engaged to another before a simple wedding with a wedding breakfast large enough for the town to see her triumphant love. 

There was only one lady in her heart who was the object of such strong affection, and Franziska had come so close to divulging her feelings at dinner last night that she feared it would not be long before she herself would be tempted to corner Lady Maya in a garden late at night and kiss her. Her foolish brother could be fool enough to give into his feelings, but Franziska would be damned if she was going to be at the heart of another scandal. 

Fear temporarily struck her heart. What if Lady Maya should rebuke her? Reject her? Proclaim her love for another? Franziska would not be able to tolerate any of those options, but she knew if she said nothing otherwise, if she was quiet, then perhaps she would suffer the consequences of her silence worst of all.

Her mind was made up. Putting a black velvet jacket over her simple white dress, and grabbing her white bonnet, she called for the carriage.

***

Lady Franziska came to call not long after breakfast, as Maya had just finished reading Phoenix’s unexpected note:

Maya, 

You will laugh, or perhaps simply nod wisely, when I tell you that you were right. All is well, for Miles loves me as much as I love him. Words cannot express the depth of my feelings for him, but we will be happy so long as we are together and will be happily married.

I shan’t see you for a week, so you must promise to keep me apprised of any news!

Your wedded neighbour and friend ,

Phoenix

Maya smiled proudly – not just because she had been correct in her estimation of the viscount’s feeling for Phoenix, but that they were both to be happy together. She could not help but wish to be at least half as happy as them. 

Dinner last night with the countess had been quietly pleasant. Every conversation with the countess only helped to grow Maya’s affection for her. With every passing day, she found herself more and more willing to confess her feelings for Lady Franziska while she waited for the countess to open herself up for courtship again. Maya had though she would not do so until next season, but the countess’ conversation with Pearl during the wedding breakfast yesterday had suggested otherwise. 

A quill poised at the ready, Maya was about to reply to the note, when Mrs. Carter informed her that the countess had come to call. Lady Franziska did not generally call so soon after breakfast, and Maya hoped there had not been any emergencies. 

“My lady,” Lady Franziska curtsied quickly, “It is such a lovely morning, I thought we could walk the grounds together. I find… it is lonely at Highcroft at the present.” She admitted. 

Maya heartily agreed, putting on a mauve jacket with her matching bonnet – she had planned to call on the countess later that day for a promenade herself, so it was a good thing that Lady Franziska was of the same mind. The fresh air would do them good, and Maya was always fond of a good walk. She found it hard to enjoy the grounds today, however, for her chest fluttered so rapidly that she nearly thought she had come down with an illness. Arm in arm with Lady Franziska, they ambled about the grounds, the cool breeze attempting to soothe her burning cheeks. 

“I-” They both started at the same time, before Maya laughed, 

“Please, you first.” She offered as Lady Franziska cleared her throat.

“I heard from my brother this morning,” She remarked, “It seems that despite his belief that Wright would resent him for eternity, that actually they both feel strongly for each other.”

“Phoenix sent a note regarding the same,” Maya nodded enthusiastically, “I knew the viscount would not have thought of a proposal if he did not have feelings for Phoenix, scandal or not. Those two were determined to be fools about it until they realised the truth together.”

“Yes, for an otherwise intelligent person, my brother really can be dim-witted at times,” Lady Franziska mused.

“So can Phoenix,” Maya reassured the countess, “But if they are happy together, then I am thrilled for them. I think we should all be so lucky if we are as happy as them.” She nodded with Franziska as they continued down a path.

“In his note, my brother gave me some advice.”

“Oh?” Maya hummed, “What advice was that?”

“To… declare my affections as soon as I feel them,” The countess hesitated, “I think my brother feels their hasty engagement and marriage could have been avoided if he had done that, and I must say I agree with him.” 

“I think that is sound advice for anyone in a romantic entanglement,” Maya acknowledged for, though the viscount’s words sounded too specific to merely be a cautionary tale for his sister, they struck a chord with her. Indeed, Lady Franziska seemed to be similarly contemplative this morning.

“I myself have realised that I do not want to be hastily married to avoid scandal. Not that I believe anyone does, but I find myself close to far too many scandals since being here…”

The countess gulped, looking away from Maya in silence, as they continued walking under the canopy of a number of large trees in a small grove. Maya found she did not know what to say, and Lady Franziska seemed entirely lost in her thoughts that Maya could not help but dwell on her own thoughts as they ruminated in her mind.

This could be her chance to express her own feelings, as the viscount had urged Lady Franziska. Maya knew her own feelings, in fact her heart had not stopped fluttering since her arm had linked with the countess’, and though the countess seemed to imply her openness towards courtship again, Maya feared that it would go awry. She tried to swallow her feelings as best she could, but as they reached the oldest tree in the grove, she stopped. Her feelings, the words, would no be suppressed any longer, now threatening to burst out of her if she said nothing. 

“M-my lady?” Lady Franziska turned sharply, “Are you well?”

“I-” Maya heaved, “I am well. I fear-”

“Do you need to sit a moment?” Lady Franziska’s voice pitched with concern as she looked around them for a bench.

‘No, I am well, I am simply… nervous,” Maya murmured, her dark eyes meeting the countess.

The countess narrowed her eyes in confusion, “Nervous? Whatever for?”

“I must confess that I had a specific reason for agreeing to walk with you today. Perhaps it is sudden, but I cannot put it off any longer.” Maya spoke carefully, never looking away from the countess.

Lady Franziska seemed to hesitate, before finally asking, “And, pray tell, what would that be?”

“To-” Maya swallowed, a stubborn lump suddenly in her throat as she forced the words out, “To tell you of my own feelings.” 

“Your feelings?” Lady Franziska echoed.

“For you, Franziska, and you alone,” Maya declared with determination, though she thought she would faint, “I think I loved you from our first conversation, and truthfully, I was heartbroken and in despair when you decided to court Lady Andrews. But now, you have become my closest friend, and you inhabit my dreams nightly, and I find I cannot conceal my affection any longer.” Maya found herself rambling, the fluttering in her chest easing as she confessed her feelings. 

“I know you may not want to enter into an engagement so soon after… but I could not stand another minute without telling you.” She added.

The words hung in the open air, as the countess’ hand moved to cover her mouth in slight shock. Maya feared that she had been misled, as the countess turned her face away from Maya – shadow covering her face. 

“You need not give an answer now,” Maya trembled suddenly, “and… if your affections are not returned, I promise to never speak of this again.” Franziska turned back to face Maya, her hand wiping her eyes as she sniffed softly.

“Have I upset you so greatly?” Maya gasped crestfallen, as Franziska shook her head quickly.

“Not at all – I confess I ventured here with the same sole purpose to declare my own feelings,” She sniffled, “but I did not imagine you would declare your own.” 

Warmth began to spread through Maya’s chest as the words were uttered.

“Your own-” Maya whispered, hot tears prickling at her own eyes.

“Of course, Maya, for I dared not declare them for fear that you would reject me or rebuke me,” Franziska admitted, “But I could not bear the thought of leaving Aldercombe in only a few weeks at the end of the season without making my affections known.”

She took Maya’s hands in her own, gentle tears of joy streaming down both their faces.

“I love you Maya, so strongly as I have never felt before, that I did not know how to tell you of my affections. You have been my constant companion these past weeks, and while I have not always felt deserving of our friendship, I have never been in doubt of how much you mean to me.”

“R-Really?”

“Really,” Franziska asserted, “Will you allow me to tell you all the ways I love you?” 

The warmth in Maya’s chest spread throughout her whole body at the unabashed confession.

“Always,” Maya giggled, “As long as you want to spend every day with me.”

“Every day, and more,” Franziska squeezed Maya’s hands, “Maya, my love, will… will you marry me?”

“Truly?” Maya breathed, pulling Franziska into a tight hug before kissing her deeply, “Yes, yes, I will marry you, Franziska!” Maya professed, as she rested her forehead on Franziska’s, as fresh tears streamed down the countess’ face.

“I did not know I would be so emotional today,” She chuckled with a hiccup, “Forgive me, it is quite unbecoming of a countess.”

“Nonsense,” Maya kissed her salty cheek, stopping a tear in its tracks, “They are happy tears, and I would do anything to see you be happy forever.” She took Franziska by the hand and they walked for a few minutes until they found a marble bench, where they sat hand in hand, smiling at each other with giddy joy. 

“I do not want a hasty engagement,” Franziska declared, “I would be happy to marry at the end of the season, and invite most of the town to the wedding breakfast so that they may see our happiness.”

“I would like that,” Maya hummed, as she squeezed Franziska’s hands, “But first, I would like to sit here with my fiancee, and admire her smile. Though we should return to Fey Manor, in a moment, for Phoenix has asked me to keep him apprised of events within town, and I should think they would like to hear this news. “

Chapter Text

The last ball of the season was to be held by Lady Charlotte and Ellen Windham, at Windham House. Phoenix felt a little sad that he had missed so many balls in the latter half of the season, what with him avoiding the colonel and then his marriage and subsequent honeymoon. It had been only a week since he had married Miles, and while they had not been strictly invited to the Windham’s ball, they were determined to go. It would be their first social event as a married couple, and Phoenix could not wait to talk at length about his husband in conversation, even if the rest of society wished to give them privacy.

The most important reason to attend the ball was to physically congratulate Maya and Franziska on their engagement. The note had arrived the same afternoon as his own note to Maya, and he had not expected her to announce their engagement so soon. Phoenix, at least, had thought that Franziska would have delayed any confession, but Miles’ advice had worked exactly as he thought it would. Naturally they had sent their written congratulations, but this would be their first opportunity to see the pair in person since their wedding. 

Everyone had turned out to the ball in their finest clothes. Lady Ellen was a splendid vision in silver, Lady Charlotte equally as beautiful in an amber gown, with Miss Susannah in a gentle periwinkle gown that complemented her eyes. Phoenix himself wore his usual navy coat, with Miles in his usual burgundy coat – they had no one to impress but each other. 

“Ah, my lords,” Lady Charlotte and Lady Ellen greeted warmly as they both curtsied.

“Congratulations on your wedding! I hope the first week of married life has been enjoyable?” Lady Ellen congratulated, as the pair nodded with a faint blush. 

Phoenix would not admit aloud that he had found it difficult to keep his hands off his new husband, now that it was just the two of them around Elmridge House. He did not know how he had ever planned on keeping Miles in a separate bedchamber, for waking up beside his husband every morning filled his heart with such indescribable joy that he did not know how he had managed without it. 

Phoenix and Miles moved into the ballroom, a dazzling display of shimmering gowns, a rainbow of colours, with feathers and pearls adorning nearly every lady’s hair. Amongst the crowd, Phoenix spotted Maya and Franziska. Maya in her classic purple Japanese silk dress, with a new string of pearls at her neck that Phoenix suspected were a gift from her betrothed; Franziska in a silky cerulean gown, a gold locket at her neck. The ladies spotted the men, both couples bustling over to greet each other.

“Phoenix! Miles! Oh, it is good to see you both,” Maya greeted excitedly, giving them both a hug, manners be damned.

“It is even better to lay eyes on you both,” Phoenix declared, “and to congratulate you in person on your engagement.” 

Maya was positively beaming with happiness, and while Franziska was quieter in her happiness, her smile was just as radiant. 

“I am sure you will make each other very happy,” Miles praised, “Though we will miss you both when you go to live in Ashwick Hall.”

“Ah, but the beauty of two estates is that we get to spend our time equally between the two,” Maya grinned, “We plan to spend half the year at Ashwick Hall, and the other half, here at Fey Manor. That way we shall always live close together for at least part of every year! How else am I going to see my nephews or nieces so often?”

“M-Maya!” Phoenix spluttered, “We have been married only a week! I beg you wait at least 6 months before there is any discussion of children. I should like to enjoy running our estates with my husband, before there are any other family members to interrupt us.” He smiled at Miles, who smiled back without restraint.

“I must say, you both look remarkably happier than you did on your wedding day,” Franziska smirked as she watched the pair of them. 

“Wedding days are large events, Franziska,” Miles advised, “It is easy to get overwhelmed with nerves throughout the day.”

“Perhaps if your wedding is somewhat rushed,” Franziska quipped, “But ours shall be planned to perfection.”

“And as for nephews or nieces?” Phoenix suggested casually to Maya.

“You’ll just have to wait until we return to Aldercombe next. Perhaps we too would like to spend some time together with just the two of us,” Maya answered innocently as she looked at Franziska, “Or, maybe I will already be with child when we visit. Who is to say.”

Franziska chuckled with a blush, “Let us focus on our wedding first, my love.”

Lady Ellen called for the first dance, as Phoenix and Miles, and Franziska and Maya made their way to the dance floor. 

Even though they were married, the touch of Miles’ hands sent thrills through Phoenix’s body. He was sure that even when they were old and gray, Phoenix would still feel this way and he would not exchange it for anything in the world. At least when they danced now, Miles himself seemed less restrained in his emotion. He smiled at Phoenix any time their eyes met, and Phoenix found him even willing to engage in the occasional gossip as they danced together. 

Phoenix was content to only ever dance with his husband at every ball, even more content to have Miles by his side – even if that was against a wall, for being married to Phoenix would not alter the shy characteristics of the viscount. They danced nearly every dance together, smiling as they did so, entirely out of breath by the end of the night.

***

Before she knew it, the final weeks of the season had passed entirely too quickly, and it was the morning of her wedding. Franziska arose as the sunlight streamed into her bedroom, laying eyes on the simple powder-blue gown that was hung on the door in anticipation of the day.

Today she would marry Maya Fey, and her life would start to be complete. Her very purpose for visiting Aldercombe would be complete, though she had grown to love this town where she had spent the past social season. Most of the town had been invited to the wedding breakfast, which was to be held at Highcroft. This morning would be her last morning in Highcroft as an unmarried woman and as Miles had done, she would spend the next week away from Highcroft, in Fey Manor with her new wife.

The thrill that spread through her body when she thought of Maya as her wife was… addictive. It was hard to know if she would have felt as thrilled if she had ended up marrying Adrian, for her feelings for Maya far surpassed the feelings from the start of the season.

She wondered, with some guilt at even thinking about her, if she had ever felt for Adrian with the same intensity – realising that her determination to achieve her goal of finding a wife may have compromised any intensity of feeling for a strong sense of duty. While she would never forgive Adrian for scorning her as she did, she could not be more grateful to love Maya, and have her return her affections in full. Lady Andrews would never cross her mind again.

The church was as bright and airy as it had been for Miles’ wedding day, the sunlight bouncing off the white marble tiles. Pearl stepped down the aisle in a pretty pink dress, a bundle of pink roses in her hands – the perfect flower girl – and Franziska watched her from behind, holding onto Miles’ elbow perhaps firmer than he would have liked.

A veil of thin white lace draped down her back as she held a small handpicked bouquet comprised of pink and red roses with a few orange carnations amongst them – symbolising her happiness, love, and devotion to her future wife. She stepped down the aisle, with Pearl beaming at her at the end. Her hands felt unsteady, and she did not think she had ever trembled like this in her life. Tears pricked at her eyes and she sniffed, surprised at the sudden emotion that overwhelmed her with every step. A deep inhale helped to compose herself. She could not let Maya see her be so emotional and unsteady when the ceremony had barely begun – it would be incredible unbecoming of her. Miles squeezed her hand once they reached the vicar, moving to sit on the left pew, leaving Franziska to helplessly watch her fianceé walk down the aisle to her.

Her hand resting in the crook of Phoenix’s elbow, Maya was a vision in a muslin lilac dress, a wreath of white jasmine contrasting her dark hair. Indescribable happiness bubbled up within Franziska, and she swallowed, for she would not allow any tears to fall – no matter how beautiful Maya looked, and how perfect she was. The aisle was not that long, yet it felt an age as she stepped towards her, a bundle of orange blossoms, white daisies, and a lily of the valley in her bouquet. Their symbolism was clear – eternal, loyal, love and marriage, and happiness.

Franziska breathed, as Maya took her hand and they stepped in front of Mr. Sculthorpe – Miles, Phoenix, and Pearl standing behind to witness the ceremony. Tears already formed in Maya’s eyes, as she beamed at Franziska, their fingers interlaced together.

It was only the start of a very happy marriage.

***

Miles had made sure that the same generous spread of food and refreshments was available at this wedding breakfast, as had been at his own. At least there would be enough food to feed everyone. There was such a crowd in attendance at the wedding breakfast, that Miles almost wished he could redo his own wedding breakfast with Phoenix – to share in his happiness with others. Perhaps they could do something on the anniversary of their marriage – still eleven months away, but Miles reasoned he could devote time to planning some kind of event for himself and Phoenix. Franziska and Maya were busy talking to their guests and receiving endless compliments on their wedding outfits, as Phoenix brought over a small plate of food to the two of them so that they could at least have the chance to eat.

They were to the be “Von Karma-Feys” Franziska had told him, practically singing the name with pride. It was entirely up the couple when they married, and not uncommon for female-presenting couples to combine their last names. Miles had considered combining his and Phoenix’s names, but they both agreed that it was easier to keep their names as is.

While the words uttered in the ceremony did not change, Miles could not deny that Franziska and Maya had been two beautiful brides. He was sure he had never seen his sister so full of joy, even now as she spoke with guests, her eyes always flickered to wherever her wife was. Maya was equally as radiant, as Miles watched her find her wife after every conversation to whisper something to her before inevitably finding other people who wished to talk to her.

After everyone had their fill, Miles called for entertainment, offering his own skills on the pianoforte, much to Maya and Franziska’s enjoyment. Maya even went so far as to offer her accompanying skills so that Miles may sing for them all. Picking a famous aria by Mozart, her steady accompaniment allowed him to focus on the difficult passages. He did not fail to notice Phoenix’s eyes fixated on him, a smile on his face at the sight of his husband singing for the crowd – and him. The crowd applauded with great enthusiasm, but Miles only watched his husband, Phoenix’s clapping the loudest of all.

When the first tinges of sunset crept into the drawing room, the crowd moved to the entrance hall to bid farewell to the happy pair. Maya hugged Miles with the same strength she had hugged him on his own wedding day, and while Franziska’s hug was softer, it lingered longer.

“Miles… I-” She whispered, breathlessly over his shoulder as she trembled ever so slightly in his arms.

“You need not say anything,” Miles comforted, “Go and be happy, Franziska. Enjoy your wedding night with your wife.”

She pulled back, studying his dark eyes with her own bright eyes, “I will.” She hugged Phoenix, who seemed pleasantly surprised that she would hug him in the end, as Franziska and Maya strode hand-in-hand to their carriage.

With his arm around Phoenix, they stood on the top step at the front of Highcroft, waving with everyone in the orange glow of sunset, as the carriage pulled off towards Fey Manor.

Chapter Text

It felt as if they could not get to Fey Manor fast enough, the ten minutes in the carriage ride were far too much time to be expected to keep apart. In fact, as soon as they were out of sight of Highcroft, Maya found herself pouncing on Franziska, kissing her with all the intensity of feeling from the day – a clash of soft lips and tongues. There was far too much fabric between them, but on such a short carriage ride Maya dared not remove anything for she knew it would be a matter of seconds before the doors opened.

Nonetheless, she found her hands roaming down Franziska’s shoulders, clutching at puffed sleeves, pulling at soft fabric that gathered at her waist – anything that would bring her closer to Franziska. She wanted, she needed Franziska to know how much she wanted her. Her tongue gently parted the soft lips that kissed her greedily, and Maya wished time could stop so she could savour every moment of Franziska’s tongue against hers.

An abrupt knock against the carriage door flung them apart, as the door opened and Maya took Franziska by the hand. Leading her up the steps and hastily greeting Mrs. Carter, Maya pulled her wife as fast as she could up the marble stairs and to her bedchamber, the door slamming behind them.

No sooner had the door shut, than Franziska’s lips were on hers again. It was just them. No more interruptions now that they were alone. Maya’s hands were free to roam, to tug at the fabric that separated them, unpinning the grey-blue hair as it fell around her shoulders messily. Grabbing her shoulders, she turned her wife around, pausing only to kiss her ear ever so gently. She was rewarded with a moan, that filled Maya’s ears with sweet music and awakened a heat between her legs.

“M-Maya,” Her wife moaned softly, as Maya shushed her gently, nibbling her way down the back of her neck with petite kisses. Taking note of where Franziska’s moans increased in volume – at the spot where her neck met her shoulder – she lazily suckled her way down her back until she reached the top of the gown. Her fingers acted alone, undoing each pearlescent button one by one, their actions leaving a new spot of flesh for Maya to kiss as she worked a fraction of the length down Franziska’s spine in peppered kisses. The deft fingers quickly untied the concealed drawstring around the bodice of the dress, as Maya peeled off a puffed sleeve, kissing the shoulder it concealed, and repeating the process on the other side.

The wedding gown lay in a puddle of muslin at her wife’s feet, as Maya focused on untying the short corset, her lips kissing the base of Franziska’s neck all the while. The corset was tossed behind Maya, she would find it in the morning. Her wife stood in her plain white linen shift, the silhouette of her waist, hips, and long legs underneath. The heat between Maya’s legs only tightened at the sight. Wrapping her arms around her waist, Maya rested her chin on Franziska’s shoulder,

“You know you are the most perfect woman I have ever seen,” Maya confessed, “And you’re mine.” She breathed, as she suckled gently at the junction between neck and shoulder, rewarded with a loud, wanton, moan from Franziska’s lips. Her hands wandered up from waist, to the perfect breasts that heaved with every breath drawn. Delicate fingers dragged themselves over every curve, circling the small nipple that protruded beneath the thin fabric.

“Maya,” Franziska moaned, “Wait.”

Resting her chin atop her shoulder again, “Are you alright?” She murmured.

“Perfectly so,” Her wife heaved slightly, “It is only that I cannot be the only one in my shift, enjoying such touches, while you are still dressed.” And with that, she took hand that had been circling her breast and Maya felt those perfect lips linger as they kissed her knuckles with the faintest of touches.

Spinning around, quick fingers unpinned her own hair, black strands falling like strokes of ink on a page. The ties on her gown were undone in a matter of seconds, her corset shortly after, both thudding softly on the wooden floor, before the gentle hands slowly traced the shape of her, from her thighs up to her breasts, before resting on her waist with a small squeeze.

“My love, you are…” Franziska paused, Maya relishing in the heat of her breath, her lips, against the base of her neck, “beyond description.” She murmured reverently before the last few strings of Maya’s shift were undone, the linen dropping to the floor, Maya’s skin pebbling as it was suddenly exposed to the cool air.

Maya turned to see Franziska with her back to her, her long hair held out of the way as she wordlessly asked for the removal of her own shift. Every bit of fabric lay on the floor, as they stepped carefully over the small mountain and landed on the soft bed. Maya found her legs become entangled with Franziska’s, as she rolled on top of her, dragging her lips over the soft ones beneath in slow, languid movements. Her hand drifted from caressing her cheek, down to gently flick a hardening pink nipple. Franziska moaned into Maya, her teeth nibbling her lip in want, as Maya could not help but smile.

She moved down to take a breast in her mouth, swirling her tongue around the stiff nipple, as Franziska gasped before mewling with every swipe of her tongue across the bud. Kissing a trail across to the other breast, Franziska’s mewling morphed into open moaning – the dark, guttural timbre of her moan sending waves of need through Maya. A hand drifted down to her thigh, Franziska parting her legs instinctually. Maya pulled away from her breast with a sharp tug of the nipple still in her mouth, before releasing it with a small pop of her lips, her wife whimpering in pleasure.

“Fran,” Maya crooned, as her fingers played amongst the grey-blue curls at the apex of her legs, a hint of moisture as they slowly inched down, “Are you ready?”

Her consent moaned enthusiastically, the fingers worked their way further down, gently parting the warm lips and becoming coated in Fran’s heat. Maya could not help but watch her wife, as her fingers slowed their movement over the small bud, Fran shutting her eyes as she nodded with every motion of the fingertips against her clit. The fingers slowly increased their pace, moving in circular strokes around the bud itself, drawing out longer and louder moans from Fran which only added to the dampness and heat between Maya’s legs. A sudden increase in pace caused the sharp, sweet cry of release, a small gush of fluids coating themselves on Maya’s fingers.

Fran heaved, mesmerising Maya with the gentle bounce of her breasts as they moved up and down with every attempt to catch her breath.

“Fuck, Fran,” Maya breathed in awe, “Can I keep going?” A wordless nod was all she needed to reposition herself between Franziska’s legs, spreading them as she leant down to nestle her lips against her.

No sooner had her tongue lapped at the sensitive bundle of nerves than Fran moaned so wantonly, and Maya thought she could not become any more aroused. That was until she pressed a finger at Fran’s slick entrance, a consenting whimper escaping her lips. It was all Maya needed to slip inside her, as Franziska clenched around her in pleasure with instant warmth and wetness encompassing her. Her tongue continued to circle around the clit, her finger moving with in synchrony with her tongue, urging Fran closer and closer to climax.

Her wife bucked against her, back arching, fingers weaving their way into Maya’s hair and pulling her deeper into her soaking core, as Maya moaned against her. Maya could not help but flick her eyes upwards to see her wife’s flushed face. She watched Maya so carefully despite her eyes glazing over with lust and pleasure, as the flush on her face deepened with the meeting of their gaze. With a few more strokes of her tongue, the walls around her finger tightened suddenly, the grip on her hair tightened, and Maya welcomed the shrill cry of ecstasy as nectar dripped down her chin.

She slowly slid out of Fran, who trembled and spasmed with waves of pleasure. Cleaning herself with a handkerchief, Maya rested back on the bed, taking Fran in her arms and letting the aftershocks of her thorough climax slowly subside.

“You- You know,” Fran whispered weakly, heaving slightly, “If I had known to expect this, I would have declared my love for you sooner.”

Maya couldn’t help but giggle, nestling into her wife, holding her closer as her breaths became more steady. With her arms wrapped around her, an immense sense of contentment and happiness washed over her, as Fran rested her cheek on Maya’s shoulder. She would be happy to spend every waking moment holding her wife.

A hand slowly drifted up her stomach, following the curvature of her body, before cupping her own breast tenderly. Fran’s thumb swiped over the tip of her nipple, setting every nerve in her body ablaze, as her skin prickled in sudden cold and heat combined. Suddenly there was a mouth on her other nipple, all other thoughts quickly exiting Maya’s brain as every suckle and every touch fought for her mind’s attention. Pleasure seemed to build in the centre of her chest before rippling down to the increasingly wet centre between her legs, heat coiling like a tightly wound rope.

All Maya could do was moan involuntarily, as she brushed Fran’s hair out of her face gently. There was a sparkle in her eyes, quickly followed by a slip of her hand down between Maya’s legs, brushing past dark curls and reaching the exact spot where her body was aching to be touched. A delicate finger traced a circle around her clit, with a soft gasp of appreciation from Fran, before the finger glided down her lips to tease her entrance for what seemed like far too long to be humane.

“Please,” Maya found herself whimpering.

Fran obliged without hesitation, as Maya felt her slip inside – a guttural cry escaping her as her wife continued to finger her gently. Every thrust seemed to penetrate deeper, her hips seemed to be ablaze with feeling – especially with the not-quite-enough pressure of her palm pressing on top of her clit. Maya was only vaguely aware of half the sounds that escaped her lips, the only thought on her mind was the skilled work of Franziska’s hands. Every sense amplified when Fran rested her thumb lightly on her clit, her finger continuing its movements in and out, and Maya was suddenly aware of how wet she was around her wife – a veritable fountain waiting to burst at the seams.

Oh, how she was so very close to just letting go.

The pressure on her sensitive bud increased, the thumb seeming to grind against it as the crackling, burning heat between her hips intensified, rapidly approaching breaking point.

“Yes, yes, please, Fran, don’t stop,” Maya chanted absentmindedly, her mind completely clouded with pleasure, the blood pounding in her ears, her very veins seeming to vibrate. Suddenly one hand was gripping Fran’s shoulder, the other the bed linen, with every muscle in her body tensing, bucking, screaming for release, as the grinding against her clit continued with rapid pace.

“Don’t st- Ah!” She screamed, as the tension burst – shattering like a dropped mirror – her toes curled, her legs straightened, her back arched, her knuckles whitened, and her eyes snapped shut as she clamped hard around Fran in her climax. Riding out the waves of her orgasm, Franziska only nibbled gently at her nipple to coax energy back into her as she slid her drenched finger out of her.

“That was…” Fran murmured in awe as she tasted the fruit of her labours, “I cannot wait to give you such pleasure for the rest of our lives.”

Maya nodded, breathlessly, “I would be happy to never leave this bedroom or do anything again, if I could.”

“Alas, we cannot.” Franziska acknowledged with a mock tone of disappointment, “We shall have to compromise by doing so at every opportunity, instead.”

“I would be very happy with that,” Maya smiled, pulling Franziska up to kiss her wife deeply.

Chapter Text

~Aldercombe, 1817~

Phoenix could hardly believe that he had been married to Miles for only a year, yet he felt as if they had just been married yesterday. Maya and Fran, as she was now affectionately known to them, had bid them a long farewell before they left for Carlisle after their week-long “honeymoon” at Fey Manor, taking Pearl with them for she was far too young to stay in Fey Manor by herself. Fran promised that Pearl would be cared for all the same while travelling with them, experiencing all the opportunities that she deserved. With his neighbours gone, life in Aldercombe seemed to slow down. All the better to spend most of every waking day with his husband – he had missed so much of Miles’ younger years that Phoenix was determined to savour everything with him now.

True to their plan, they split their time in equal measure between Highcroft and Elmridge House – their estates having merged upon their marriage. In truth, Phoenix found that he preferred the space and new environment of Highcroft. The library far surpassed his own study, and there was ample space to paint – the view of Aldercombe from the top floor was so picturesque that Phoenix had sketched the sight within his first week of living there, four months after the Von Karma-Feys’ departure. The painted view was proudly hung a few months later in the drawing room, and Phoenix noticed the smile that crept onto Miles’s face ever time he beheld the artwork. 

Married life suited them both, they spent most days in quiet togetherness, enjoying the company of each other even though they went about their days separately. Letters from Maya and Fran arrived nearly every other day and were eagerly read together with instant replies following. Though he missed the physical company of his closest friend and neighbour, Phoenix knew that Maya was incredibly happily married to the countess. Life in Ashwick Hall and Carlisle sounded like it agreed with them greatly. Maya’s ease of hosting and general affability had made her many quick friends in Carlisle, though her friends in Aldercombe would still be nearest and dearest to her heart, and Pearl was slowing coming into her own with new friends and under the watchful, caring, eye of Fran. They returned to Aldercombe later in the year than planned, almost nine months into the year, coinciding with the social season there. Phoenix had to admit that social seasons as a married man were much more relaxed, and though he still preferred to dance mostly every dance, he enjoyed joining in gossip from the edges of various ballrooms – often with Maya, who was now content to spend her balls talking with the other married women present, her wife included.

All in all, it was a quick first year of marriage that passed and Miles had been determined to hold some form of celebration to commemorate their wedding, since they had not really celebrated their wedding day – or, in his opinion, could celebrate it better. It was excellent timing for a celebration, as Maya and Fran planned to leave Aldercombe within the fortnight – sooner than their anticipated six-monthly stay – and while Phoenix hated to see them go, he knew they would return soon enough. So, on the eve of their first wedding anniversary, a modest dinner party was hosted at Highcroft, with the Windhams, Hollingsworths, and Repingtons, in addition to the presence of Pearl, Fran, and Maya. A modest dinner party it might have been, but it was incredibly lively with good food and ale aplenty, and hearty entertainment shared by all. When the Repington’s carriage had pulled away, the last of the families present, Pearl, Phoenix, Miles, Maya and Fran returned to the drawing room to bask in each other’s company and for a nightcap.

“Well, I think that was a very successful dinner party, my love,” Phoenix praised his husband, as Miles went to pour them all a glass of port wine for the adults, the others collapsing on the sofa.

“Indeed,” Franziska concurred, “Such a lively night, that I hope you repeat the occasion annually.”

“Perhaps, a ball next year?” Maya suggested with a beam, “Then we can all dance together again.”

“We probably could have danced tonight, if you had suggested it, Maya,” Phoenix said, apologetically.

“Oh, no, ‘tis all right, for… I would not have been able to dance anyway, not-” She blushed, grabbing Franziska’s hand gently, “not in my condition at least.” They looked at each other with giddy happiness, as Maya drifted a hand over her stomach.

Phoenix gasped, as Miles froze his pouring, and Pearl gave a small squeal.

“You mean-” Phoenix uttered, excitement blossoming in his chest.

“I am with child,” Maya nodded, barely containing her brilliant smile as she said the sentence, Pearl immediately hugging her arm with excitement.

“I will hold off on your wine until next year, then.” Miles smiled, as Phoenix leant over to hug Maya with every fibre of his being.

“I look forward to it,” She giggled, “But we are to stay in Ashwick Hall until the end my confinement, so we shan’t be back to Aldercombe for another six months at least.”

“It will be all the more worthwhile, so that we may meet our nephew – or niece.” Phoenix beamed.

***

~Aldercombe, 1818~

Maya wrote to him steadfastly as the next year progressed, determined not to let the pregnancy stop her from maintaining her correspondence – even though it made her easily tiresome.

Life in Aldercombe continued apace. Phoenix took it upon himself to redecorate Elmridge House. It had never been a particularly large or lavish estate, compared to Highcroft – having always been smaller and fitted out with comparatively limited funds. It couldn’t have been a better time to redecorate the house, and Phoenix planned to make it more fitting for the family of a viscount. Not that they had even thought of expanding their own family, or discussed it at least, but with Maya’s steady correspondence of her impending birth, and preparations for their first child, the thought of raising a family danced around Phoenix’s mind more and more each day.

If he had been of smaller means, with no title or estate to inherit, he may have been more content to spend his life together with Miles as just the two of them. Instead, by being married to Miles, he had inherited the title of viscount and with the title came fortune, with the expectation that there would be heirs in the family to inherit. Stranger yet, Phoenix found himself envisioning a family regardless of the expectation. He dared not utter his thoughts aloud, for he did not know Miles’ specific thoughts on the topic. Nearly half the year had passed when one balmy morning, as they lay in each other’s arms, Miles whispered into his neck,

“Ph-Phoenix, what do you think about adopting a child one day?”

Phoenix answered him with a deep kiss.

With the topic ventured, they started seriously planning for a child and wrote to Mr. Sculthorpe, the vicar, about the children in the local orphanage which was attached to the church. The renovations at Elmridge House were now coming to an end – it had been a large undertaking over many months, for each room had been given new wallpaper, the servants’ quarters given new coats of paint, and nearly every item of furniture had been either re-upholstered or replaced with new items. The redecoration brightened it immensely, and it almost seemed an entirely new house upon its completion.

Everything fell into place almost immediately afterwards. Not even three days later, word had come from Fran that Maya had given birth to twin girls – all were happy and healthy – and they were desperate to stay at length at Aldercombe as soon as Maya was well enough to travel at distance.

Within a week of their inquiry for adoption, Mr. Sculthorpe advised Miles and Phoenix that there were five children in the parish orphanage who could be adopted: two infants, a toddler, a six-year-old boy, and a girl who was nearly ten. The vicar said provided a brief summary of information about all the children, but noted his own sadness for the eldest girl – having been orphaned less than a fortnight ago due to a tragedy with both her parents – going on to exclaim how brilliant, bright and cheerful she was. She was incredibly good-natured, and there was something almost… magical about her.

Without hesitation, Phoenix and Miles wrote back to agree to adopt the girl. And so, three months before their second anniversary, Trucy Edgeworth-Wright was officially brought into their lives, and their family. The vicar had been entirely correct and Phoenix had never thought Highcroft was so quiet, but Trucy brought laughter and a sense of mischief into each corner of the house like a beam of sunlight on a dark day. She adjusted so fast to their little family that within a month, both Phoenix and Miles thought it a wonder that she had not always been a part of their lives.

The addition of a third family member, however, made it difficult to continue splitting their time between the two houses. With Phoenix’s help, Miles had tentatively re-opened the north wing of Highcroft – where his father’s rooms had been, to allow space for them and Trucy. Though his father’s study would always be preserved and relatively untouched in memory of him, the master suite now belonged to Miles and Phoenix – for Miles was determined to make as many happy memories within Highcroft with his family as he could for as long as he lived. So the white cloths were lain over the new furniture to preserve it from dust, as the rooms of Elmridge House closed with the house vacated, to be inhabited again in the future. Phoenix could not deny the small pang of sadness at his house being vacant, but he could not wait for the day when Trucy, or any future children, could inherit it – though he knew that could be at least a decade away.

Their second anniversary rapidly approaching, Miles was hesitant to plan a ball to celebrate their family when Trucy was both new to the town, and nowhere near being out in society – yet he wished to be able to introduce her to some form of society with ease. So the same lively dinner party was arranged, the same guests were called. The Repingtons, Windhams, and Hollingsworths were eagerly in attendance – not just to meet Trucy and introduce her to their children, but to see the Countess’ Von Karma-Fey and their infant daughters: Amelia and Madalene.

Maya and Fran had certainly been in love, but their growing family had only seemed to deepen their affection for each other. The twins were passed around to be held and admired by everyone. Phoenix thought his heart would burst from pride; Miles seemed to be at a loss for words as he held his nieces. Pearl, now fourteen, was taller and more confident in herself – her time in Carlisle had clearly had a positive impact on her with the diversity of opportunities. Trucy made fast friends with Pearl, looking up to her almost as an older sister and they spent most of the night talking, whispering and giggling together with the other younger girls in attendance.

It was another brilliant night of celebration, lively conversation and treasured time. When Miles had first returned to Aldercombe nearly three years ago, Phoenix could never have predicted that they would end up here on this night in Highcroft, surrounded by his beloved family and friends. It warmed him immensely to feel so loved, and be so loved. He would not change it for the world.

Barely a month after their second anniversary, news spread like fire throughout Aldercombe that the owner of Ravenhurst Manor was returning – a Mr. Simon Blackquill. The estate lay a good distance out of Aldercombe; barely anyone in town could recall the family. Sir Thomas Hollingsworth seemed to remember Simon’s elder sister, Aura, but other than that the man was a mystery. All that was reported was that Mr. Blackquill was not more than two-and-twenty years old, lived alone, and had a stunning aviary in his estate – which had not been inhabited for nearly twenty years. Phoenix was sure the mystery surrounding him would be uncovered in time.

***

And so, home to many happy families and a quaint little community that thrived in the English countryside, life in Aldercombe continued on in comfort, despite all the ups and downs that came with it. Over the course of nearly seven years, the quiet town of Aldercombe was highly spoken of as a brilliant, picturesque, little country town and, by the end of the social season, had started to attract a number of individuals – those looking to escape scandal, those wandering the Earth, and those in search of once-close friends.

How their threads of fate would intertwine would remain to be seen.