At Irene's alarmed expression, the Commander quickly let go of her waist, but his hand remained clasped with hers. Even though it was subtle, the faint widening of his eyes was enough for Irene to realize that he was just as alarmed at himself as she was.

Perhaps it was the alcohol talking, but she thought it wouldn't be so bad if he continued holding her tightly as if she was something precious to him. She shook that thought off quickly.

"Shall we cool off?" he asked her under his breath.

She could only nod, worried that she had offended him even though it was the person behind her at fault.

Soon, Irene found herself pulled in the opposite direction from where she started at the table with her family and she couldn't help casting a nervous glance over her shoulder. She was unsure if the burning gaze was her father or mother, but she found them leaning towards each other as they talked and they were shooting her nods of approval. She felt a bit horrified.

Seeing as she wasn't in trouble, all she could do was allow him to keep taking her wherever they were going, surprised that he was holding her hand for such a long time.

They took the side entrance her family had come through in the first place only to find one of the rooms with cool refreshments for the warm party-goers. The main hall was getting quite hot with all the movement while the areas outside the sealed doors remained cool.

It also gave them a bit of peace from the noise to where they could actually hear one another talking without having to be too close or project themselves.

As they made it to a table they could stand beside, frosty mugs of ale were placed between them by a servant. It matched the window to Irene's left that was frosted over from the freezing weather outside. The window itself had been papered during winterization but what she could see of the glass revealed as much.

The Commander finally let go of her hand and she felt a faint sense of loss. She should have savored it more when she had the chance, but things were happening so quickly she felt a bit out of her mind. It was the first time she had so easily allowed someone to drag her around choicelessly who wasn't her father.

"Sorry for dragging you away," the Commander apologized with a light laugh. "I don't like crowds anyway. Much less ones full of people interested in what I'm doing or talking about."

"I don't mind at all, Commander," Irene responded, making sure to keep her tone light. "I don't like these sort of gatherings in the first place, but I'm not unusual enough to be impolite when someone's invited me to someplace because of my father."

Irene decided all that was left to do was keep drinking. That was why the Commander brought her there in the first place, after all. They were knights who hated crowds and soothed themselves with alcohol.

And, my, did she have a lot to soothe after allowing the Commander to guide her around in such a way. Her heart hadn't rested for even a moment.

Pulling herself out of her thoughts and placing her mug back onto the table, her head felt hot when she realized the Commander was gazing at her like when they were dancing.

Her attention caused him to say, "You know, when we're in a situation like this, you should just call me Henry. I'm not that much older than you and I would prefer you see me as an equal when we're not acting as knights."

That set off an alarm in her head and she immediately objected. Familiarity like that would not be good for her.

"When we're not knights, you're still a duke," she reminded him.

At that, his gaze fell to his mug. She didn't understand why his expression seemed hurt. They could still be friends as he wanted while she used honorifics.

"If I ever push boundaries, you always know how to set me straight," he responded quietly, in a tone that spoke volumes of his displeasure.

Immediately, she felt like she had made a mistake, but she wasn't sure what else she was supposed to do. He desired friendship from her, but her heart wanted so much more. She couldn't bring him closer than he already was because that path would only hurt her in the end.

"Isn't that what I'm supposed to do?" she finally asked, her voice becoming quiet.

His eyes hadn't returned to her yet. He seemed contemplative.

She took the pause to drink more of her ale.

"Can I be honest with you for a moment?" he wondered.

Her eyes lifted despite how hard she found him to look at simply because she didn't know what sort of expression she must wear whenever he was close by.

"About what?" she hesitantly asked even though she was dying to hear what he had to say.

Unfortunately, it was clear the doors to the banquet hall had opened once more because the voices and music could be heard louder than when the door was shut.

"Your Grace, are you out here?" a voice unrecognizable to Irene called to the hallway.

However, it seemed that he recognized it because the Commander responded, "Yes, give me a moment."

Irene tried to hide that she was unbelievably disappointed. She wanted to hear what he was going to say.

"I'm getting ahead of myself," the Commander realized. "I should take you back to your father."

The more casual posture he had begun to wear corrected itself as he stopped leaning against the table between them and he straightened out. If Irene wasn't mistaken, he seemed disappointed as she felt, but perhaps she was delusional because of the combination of the alcohol and the burdensome feelings that plagued her.

In desperation, she requested, "Will you dance with me one last time before the banquet is over?"

Her insistence that she didn't like to dance from before was forgotten. Now she was finding excuses to be close to him again.

"I would love to," he admitted before taking her hand and kissing the back of it, a silent promise that he would be back for her later.

After that he placed her hand on his arm so he could appropriately guide her back to the table she shared with her parents, but neither one of them seemed to be walking very quickly as they went a longer path around the dancing pairs and towards the table.

All the while, Irene decided to lean into him a bit more. Everything happening was so fleeting. She ought to enjoy it while she can.

Despite their slow pace, it still felt too quickly that they made it to her table where her parents no longer sat. They had likely gone to dance, the alcohol they had consumed making them more energetic.

"Will you be alright?" Henry wondered, feeling bad he was leaving her at a table alone.

Irene gave him a look of disbelief that he found quite charming. He smiled in response, knowing his worries were unwarranted because she could take care of herself.

"Don't drink too much," he reminded her with a smirk that made her realize he was teasing her from the time she did overdo it.

"Bossing me around won't make it easier to use your first name at any point," she retorted with a teasing smirk, but then she glanced over his shoulder, seeing someone walking quickly towards her table. "You're being summoned."

"It seems that I am," he relented with a sigh.

He had to drag himself away from her table before he had to up his charm and become the regal Duke he was meant to be.

Irene witnessed his demeanor change entirely and she hoped it was because what he was presenting to her was his most authentic self.

Despite how much she had been dreading watching him dance with other women, she felt bad for him more than anything, because she could tell that he was not enjoying himself no matter how much he offered these women a polite smile and put up with it until he was forced into the arms of yet another.