I sigh contentedly, my eyes tenderly tracing the nuances of his form, my thoughts lost in the soaring notes of the song, which tangles among the stars, pulling them out from their day's rest. I take slow sips of the wine, which warms my thin blood, flushing my pale cheeks. Ah, what an evening! I would have this boy sing for centuries, I do not think I would ever tire of it...
        A shrill voice pierces the air high above the murmurs of the crowd, and the voices surrounding grow louder in answer. One of the ladies has fainted, at the sight of some horrifying thing out in the garden, and the woman she had been walking with is making a ridiculous fuss.
        I smile wryly into my wine. One should know the chance one takes, walking through these gardens at night - especially in the gardens of Luce, for he is always plotting the most interesting chains of reaction.
        The music stills in the uncertain atmosphere, and my mood sours. "Do continue!" I call out, while waving over the servant for a refill of my glass. "Drama is hardly worth viewing, dears, if there is no musical accompaniment."
        A few of the musicians smile at this, others are too busy scanning the crowd to see what the fuss is about. I am disappointed in their lack of professionalism, I had thought them better than this. But they play well, so I will forgive them - if only they will play!
        Ah, there, the first violinist is cueing the rest to begin a new piece. The singer clears his throat and resumes his straightened poise, relaxing into the music as it swells behind him, seeming almost to lie back against it, as a bed of gentle down. I can feel the warmth and softness against my own back, watching him, the caresses seeping into my skin, embracing my blood and even my heart... I close my eyes and sip my wine, and feel, almost, at peace...

        I awake from my blind reveries to find the music gone, the air empty. My heart sinks, I nearly cry aloud at the sudden vacuum of that most glorious of sound. I find myself quite cold. Looking about, I see few candles lit, the lanterns glowing dimly in the false light of pre-dawn. Have I slept, I wonder? I suppose I must have, for I can recall nothing of the party quieting or the sky brightening.
        My eyes catch sight of a warmer light in the distance - ah, from the house! The party must have merely moved indoors, to avoid the chill of morning dew and the even colder morning light.
        I slowly rise to my feet, very aware of the stiffness that has grown in my limbs. I sigh, casting my eyes about me. The servants have worked well - there is scarcely any residue of the soirée, only a few tables and chairs remaining, and of course the lanterns strung in the trees and bushes. Just enough left out that any few who might wish to return for a bit of air shall find the place comfortable. But there is no-one here now, and so I make my way toward the house, following the paths darkened by the passage of many footsteps.

        Indoors, I find the number of the party diminished. Some have left altogether, but in large part the gathering is merely divided. Some are in the drawing room, smoking and drinking and talking in voices both boisterous and secretive. Some have gone into the harem room, to indulge in the pleasures of beautiful men and women, senses heightened by exotic spices and incense. Some are lingering over a meal in the dining room, some have retired to private rooms, for rest or for more exclusive tête-à-têtes.
        I find a seat in the drawing room, a softly cushioned chair not far from the fireplace. A servant offers to get me a drink, and I have some terribly indulgent cocktail brought to me. And so I linger there for a time, soaking in the various confidences and loud gossip being thrown about the room.

        "Had you heard anything of Adir's latest encounters?"
        "I had not! Oh do tell, he is always the most delicious subject to discuss."
        "Well, it seems that - you know how that girl Martha has been clinging to him for weeks now."
        "Oh of course, who doesn't?"
        "I know, she's terribly possessive - as if any of us could be so restrained! But as I was saying, her lavish attentions and petty demands are nearly sickening, or they would be if Adir showed any pretense of indulging her for long. Not that she seems to have the slightest idea."
        "So I have heard! Has he not left her alone for days at a time, while he attends all sorts of parties and even, if rumor is anything near the truth, gone to that gathering at Azal's, which turned in the end into a veritable orgy?"
        "Oh rumor is always near the truth - but never too near, for that would take the mysterious thrill of it away, would it not?"
        "Ah, how true! But do go on, I did not mean to so distract you."
        "Well, it seems he truly has got another girl on the side. One for each night of the week, nearly."
        "Mmm... I had supposed as much, really."
        "Oh but the deliciousness is in the details, darling. Do you remember how he convinced her to leave the evening at Meres' early last week?"
        "I do - but was he not ill? He certainly seemed it, he was terribly unsteady on his feet, I was rather concerned."
        "Ah, darling, you should know he is a better actor than that! He was quite well, you know. But he allowed her to walk him home, and put him to bed, and fuss over him dreadfully for an hour or two before feigning sleep. When he was certain she had returned to her own chambers, he returned - but not to the party at large. You remember the powder room, how it had been transformed into an Oriental-styled den for the evening?"
        "I do, it was quite lovely. But Meres is always a wonder in his artistry."
        "It was to that room that he returned, and in that room he remained... this was in the later part of the evening, when--- Oh but you know what transpired there."
        "Mmm, indeed I do. I was... occupied, elsewhere, for quite some time, but I have heard."
        "And what you heard was only the vague remembrances of an opium-induced haze of pleasure. Ah, darling, it was a lovely evening..."
        "I presume this Martha hasn't the faintest idea?"
        "Not at all. He somehow made his way back to his room before she arrived in the morning to make him breakfast. And when she commented on how pale and tired he looked---"
        "She assumed it was the illness! Such a clever trick, but so well played!"
        "He has done all manner of sneaking around on her, and I really wonder if the girl is not half dumb, that she knows so little of it. Although I suppose it is possible that she does know, and merely chooses to disregard it."
        "Ha! She thinks he loves her, then?"
        "She talks as though he does! It is quite entertaining, really, to listen to her, though it becomes nauseating rather too soon. Which is just as well, since even I am not certain how long I could let her go on before I laughed or did something else to give things away. But she has a great amount of apparent faith in him, letting him go on trips with his friends, always keeping track of his whereabouts as best she can of course, but really, how difficult is it to write an incorrect return address on a letter?"
        "And she does, I suppose, still let him into her bed whenever he pleases?"
        "Ahh, of course! It is Adir, and for all else he might be, he is an excellent lover, and an exceedingly persuasive one..."