Never Forget The Importance of Style

7. If you have it, why not flaunt it?

Walking around the resplendent ballroom in his well-cut suit and forest-green bow tie, a high-stemmed crystal glass in his left hand and a scented king size cigarette in his right, Leone knew that once again he managed to be in exactly the right place at the right time. Of course the mere name of the event had been enough to promise a lot, and he sure wasn't disappointed: the Season Opening Ball of the Livena Opera House, Revenues of Entry Tickets going to support Young Talented Singers, was a grand affair that had attracted everybody who was anybody to gather in the spacious premises of the small but pompous opera.

As a consequence, all the people around him were either young, beautiful, rich, or varying combinations of the three. There stood the youngish wife of the city's richest banker in her triple pearl necklace and heavy earrings that screamed 'wealth' to everyone within five miles - taste, now, that was a whole another story. Over there was one of the most successful businessmen of the entire region, no more young but impressively tall, gray and solid. A man in his prime, especially if you happened to ask the man himself. And from that side one could hear the piercing laughter of a famous doctor's celebrated daughter, a stunning beauty and a pride of any society, and a legendary airhead if there ever was one.

With a smile Leone nodded and winked at young Merdos, the famed lawyer's son with whom he had quickly become the greatest of friends. The black-haired young man already seemed pleasantly dizzy and sweetly surrendered to his three greatest passions: pink Timaschel, roses - as evidenced by the enormous, dazzlingly yellow, and very fragrant specimen that was his buttonhole - and pretty boys.

At the moment Merdos's entire attention was focused on a 16-year-old golden-haired angel, youngest son of a retired editor. Said beauty was currently devoting his entire energy resources to solving a major problem: how to pick up a glass of Timaschel from the serving table or from one of the trays that kept passing by, without either of his very stern parents noticing. Leone watched the boy, his bright dark weasel-like eyes, his slightly nervous posture inside the impeccably cut tuxedo, and noticed that under the drooping eyelids his friend's eyes had started to glow. He smiled to himself and walked leisurely on.

Some couples were dancing, and an amused grin appeared on Leone’s lips as he stopped for a while to observe them. Some things never failed to tickle him. Young ladies with curves to show did indeed show them, wearing close-fitting dresses of thin, preferably slightly transparent cloth draped numerous times over itself to banish any thoughts of impropriety, heaven forbid. And those whose figures lacked something or were in places maybe somewhat abundant, relied on clever cuts: tiny sleeves, generously deep backs, revealing necklines that allowed a good view of carefully nurtured skin. The elderly ladies tiptoed on a tightrope somewhere between the extremes, at times succeeding, sometimes failing gloriously. Leone looked around, glanced at the horde of fashionably tailored gentlemen, and smiled. What a treat to the eye. No rainbow, however brilliant, could ever compete with the scenery around him.

Leone didn't hesitate to enjoy fully the whole spectacle. For him, it was made even more entertaining by the knowledge that he saw many things no one else did. Like the emerald ring of the Judge's wife, or actually its absence. It had been a terrible tragedy - an expensive, almost invaluable thing, a wedding-present, a marvelous piece of jewelry of which she had been so very very proud. And not without reason; not many ladies had rings like that, with a large edged emerald surrounded by a glittering array of tiny diamonds.

Leone himself had paid a visit to the shocked lady whose favorite he was and had, against his better knowledge, assured the inconsolable ex-owner of that green miracle that the ring would no doubt be soon discovered again. Though of course it could not and would not be got back - such an easily recognizable thing, it'd naturally have been taken into pieces immediately, if it had fallen into hands that were the least reluctant to return it to its owner.

Leone pulled his cigarette case from his pocket, opened it, and pulled out another cigarette. The little box was a beauty, of carved silver with twelve tiny emeralds on it. He smiled fondly to it; he loved green, and the emeralds went so well together with his green suit and bow tie.

He lit the cigarette and almost, but only almost, burned his fingers upon hearing the voice.

"Leone?"

He turned around and swallowed as he saw the woman in pink dress smiling broadly to him. Mixed feelings were stumbling over each other inside him, but he allowed none of them to rise on his face, his eyes, his mouth, as he went to kiss her on both cheeks. Her skin was very warm and the perfume familiar. Lily of the valley - always the same. He wondered if it ever had occurred to her to wear something else for a change. Probably not. Her eyes were careful, even reproachful?

"Ah, my dear Alia! How delighted I am to see you!"

"Leone, you magician... I should've guessed that this is the place to look for you, you cat of luxury! Of course you'd be in the currently most fashionable holiday resort!"

Leone nearly frowned at her tone but held his expressions in check so that his smile didn't falter.

"Why, and how are you in Livena - surely not looking for me?" He very much hoped not, and a dizzying relief washed over him as he, taking her both hands in his, felt something through his suede gloves: rings. Two of them. No need to glance down to see them, he felt them well enough.

"My goodness, little Alia, now don't tell me you are here -"

"On honeymoon; yes I am." She sounded very jubilant, a feeling that Leone willingly shared although for quite an opposing reason.

"Congratulations - and who's the lucky chap?"

"Oh, you don't know him, my dear Leone. He's from Reál."

Leone's insides took a tentative lurch and for the briefest moment he wondered whether or not his miraculous luck might've suddenly desided to desert him right then - but when he saw the man who appeared at the door and received an affectionate smile from the woman whose hands he still was holding, he heaved a silent sigh. That was a face he'd never seen before.

He wondered what she had told to the man, and if nothing, what she would say, right about - now...

"My love, this is Leone whom I once mentioned, remember?"

Leone bowed to the fresh husband, they exchanged compliments, and he congratulated the man most warmly on a happy choice - so warmly that a cloud of irritation passed over Alia's face and she bit her lip. Leone, however, had no intention whatsoever to cause friction. It was only too delicious to know that he had no reason to think about her any more. Not that he would have been pondering too much about their little affair back in Merane, as unexpectedly pleasant as it had been. But he'd managed to avoid more complicated entanglements and now she was comfortably out of the way, for good. An obstinate smile flickered on his lips. 'Once mentioned'; why, naturally she wouldn't be exactly eager to inform her future husband about a passionate affaire de coeur where she hadn't been the more passive party involved.

Leone was rather sure that she'd spotted him first, and that the surprise appearance had been designed to give him a little kick for his disappearance. Oh well, if that was what she'd wanted, she'd been disappointed. And indeed, she seemed subtly irate as she hurriedly ushered her husband to meet another surprising acquaintance.

Leone shrugged and retired to the table. The cold dishes were excellent, and after consuming several glasses of Timaschel he really needed something more solid. The Judge's wife approached and kindly granted him one of her sweetest smiles.

"And how is my darling friend today?" she inquired, and he stopped himself just in time before mouthing the very question before she had time to utter it.

"Very well, thank you."

"And always as stylish, chic, eh? How can you always and in every situation retain that glamour of yours, tell me! You know, we were just saying how absolutely devastating you look -"

"Oh, madam, you flatter me," Leone muttered bowing politely, just in time to hide a yawn.

"It must be innate, I tell you..."

Her nervous hand dove into the tiny bag but Leone was quicker. He produced his cigarette case and flicked it open for her. She took one, and as he closed it again she gave a faint squeak.

"What is it, madam - please, tell me," Leone inquired with deep worry in his voice, but the lady waved pushed the question aside with a theatrical sweep of a dimpled arm.

"Oh, nothing... it is just that... but oh, you know the matter, my dearest, surely you remember my wonderful ring - and those on your..."

"But naturally - how very inconsiderate I am! Please allow me -"

Leone, the very picture of concerned chivalry, escorted her back to her husband with whom he then discussed general matters for a good while before finally escaping. When he was safely behind the palm trees and thick bushes that had been brought in to form nice hidden corners within the ballroom, he lit a cigarette and grinned. Yes, the emerald was a rarity. Its color was extremely bright, the whole stone absolutely clear and taintless, and even when cut into such small pieces, it still retained its characteristic shimmer.

Merdos materialized beside Leone and put a gloved hand on his shoulder. His eyes were narrow and lustrous, cheeks red and lips burning. "Well, how're things?"

"Excessively boring," Leone replied.

"My words. Who's the pink abomination?" His eyes weren't turned anywhere in the general direction of Alia; instead, they stared vacantly into thin air. The fingers of his left hand were restlessly playing with the delicate stem of his glass. Leone took it gently from him, emptied it and put it back. Merdos didn't notice.

"Someone I met somewhere, I keep forgetting where."

"He's making me crazy, I tell you," Merdos said suddenly, after a short pause during which he apparently was somewhere completely elsewhere.

"Come on - easy boy now." Leone gave his friend a narrow look.

"Sure as hell. He's noticed that I'm watching him." Merdos nearly growled. "He's teasing me, that little devil, bloody kid how he teases me!"

"You oughtn't drink too much, sweetheart," Leone whispered into the dark man's ear and wrapped an arm around absent-minded shoulders. "Hey, I tell you what - let's go and get something to eat."

"Bloody kid," Merdos muttered stubbornly.

"Let's not make any scenes now, hmm?" Leone's arm tightened slightly. "Have you tried any of that chicken salad? Makes you swallow your tongue."

"I'll swallow his," Merdos stated definitively and turned to look Leone solemnly in the eyes, swaying a little. "You don't believe me, hmm? I'm going to swallow that sweet little cock of his!"

Leone closed his eyes for a second. When he opened them again, his lips were parted and the ravishing charmer of a moment ago had turned into something far more predatory. The gleam in his gray eyes did not promise anything very decent.

"You shouldn't have said that," he drawled under his breath and flashed a lecherous grin. "Merdos, baby, whether you've had salad or not, I don't give a damn any more!"

"Come on now," Merdos said, suddenly alarmed enough not to slur his words together. "We're at a party!"

"Not for long," Leone replied in a low voice and stepped closer. Merdos eyed him speculatively. "Besides, where were you then going to do it to him, if you were in such a hurry? Babe, you can't be this cruel to me!"

Very fortunately there happened to be a small table right next to Merdos, so that his empty glass only made a quiet click as it landed on top of it; a crash might have aroused unwanted attention. The dark man swallowed with some effort.

"Coming, baby," he sighed.

The garden of the opera house, once the palace of a local potentate before being lovingly converted to serve its current purpose, was enormous and very well kept. Huge trees cast even huger shadows on carefully clipped lawn, and the place was liberally littered with cozy little huts and picturesque masses of bushes that staunchly protected anyone within the magic circle from everybody and everything outside it. Some of the arbors had boarded or tiled floors, some even had benches, and the benches were broad and comfortable - if not exactly soft.

"Stop it, bloody fool, I'm slipping down!"

"Sorry," Leone panted and grabbed a good hold of the bench. "It's just that I believe this time you've definitely broken a few of my ribs."

Merdos giggled, out of breath. Oddly enough, he seemed very much more sober.

"You're a devil," he breathed.

"And you're a vampire," Leone replied rubbing his bearded cheek. "A fucking vampire, that's what you are! I'm lucky to have at least some protection. You nearly bit off a piece of my cheek."

"Cheeky, ha? Then how about talking what you tried to do to me? Bite me into pieces?"

"What would that’ve made you - a cockerel?"

They laughed immoderately, nearly rolling down on the tiles.

"You know what... you look funny like that, with a tuxedo coat and no slacks on."

"And whose fault's that supposed to be?"

"Who started in the first place..." Merdos looked at Leone and grinned. "Bastard. You did it just to stop me from attacking that kid right in the middle of the crowd, didn't you?"

"I had no other option, you uncontrollable infant. I was in a hurry already. And I don't mind."

"Sure - would you?"

Leone opened his mouth to say something. However, he immediately forgot whatever it was, when Merdos smirked to him under mussed black bangs and slid deftly down to kneel on the floor. Deliciously sharp front teeth clamped gently but firmly around his semi-hard manhood, a tongue swirled roughly around the head, and for the next few minutes Leone couldn't form a single coherent thought. The incoherent ones, though, were pleasant enough. You are a brainless thing, Merdos, he stated to himself, but hell, you are a great - just great - oh god oh YES...

Somehow they both managed to fall from the bench, toppling over each other on the cold floor, and Leone chuckled. Yes, they were brainless, stupid, complete dummies, all the lot of them. There was no doubt about it - he was by far the most intelligent person in or around the ballroom tonight. Not that that would've been saying much, that he willingly admitted. He was just the only one who seriously bothered to use his head for thinking. Yet, as stupid as they were, he still was immensely fond of them all.

Leone smiled broadly to himself as he took two cigarettes from the case, fondled the cool metal and chuckled breathlessly. The diamond brooch of the Mayor's young daughter suddenly appeared before his eyes, and he laughed aloud.

"Damn you," Merdos mumbled and bit his ear.

Leone grasped the man's shoulders and puffed smoke to his face. "Give me a lucky kiss."

"For what?" Merdos tilted his head.

"For luck, honey. We’re gonna need it."

The music grew louder inside.

"Yeah. I with the kid, but what about you?"

"I'm lucky to get through the rest of the ball alive," Leone muttered distantly. "I don't feel the least like going back into that whirlpool right now."

Nevertheless, he let Merdos persuade himself back. And by the time the two young men again set a foot inside the ballroom, nobody could possibly have guessed what had happened only a few moments earlier, so cool and stylish, so inscrutably elegant both of them looked. Such wonders one could do with a few stolen napkins and some water from a basin designed as a birds' swimming pool.

Young ladies immediately fluttered around them like butterflies, bouncing with pleasure at their arrival.

"You must not miss the next game!" they cried.

Leone would have given almost anything to miss it, and he opened his mouth for a suave explanation when the youngest daughter of the Mayor clung to his arm.

"Dearest Leone," she twittered, "you must say yes! It's going to be excessively exciting, and we already picked up our partners, eyes closed - and I was so lucky to draw you!"

Leone granted her a blinding smile.

"How could I possibly be so cruel as to resist such an amazing stroke of luck?" he said.

Merdos sighed inaudibly, invisibly, and rolled his yearning eyes towards the gold-capped sweetie who granted him a sly smile from behind a holly bush.

Author's note: "Timaschel" is a sparkling wine produced in Tima, the northernmost region of Dorelion.