DMC AU
The night before had been a complete disaster. And though the fact that the puck had gotten into the inner chambers of the massive cathedral should have caused the 19-year-old to call her faith into question, it did little more than royally infuriate her.
She chased and battled the grinning devil from secret chamber to secret chamber, fighting it from destroying everything. Cathedrals were much larger than the common person realized, as Catholic priests took great care in hiding away power-threatening items and information (this was especially true as the Protestant religion began to drown out their power in Great Britian). Only priests, nuns and their favored demon hunters knew of even a slim few of these chambers, and Eva Spencer felt the fewer she know of, the better, as the Arch Bishop loved to hold such things over her head, to control her. But, unfortunately, due to that chase, Eva had entered more chambers than she would have liked.
The chase had finally ended in the Lower Sanctum's meeting hall, when she decapitated the bugger.
Accidentally.
When she had tripped over a chair and fell right into the puck, her sword plowed right through its neck, broad. And that was a bad thing, spilling wicked blood on the grounds deemed holy by the Church. Really, she hadn't meant to, but she knew they wouldn't listen. Did they ever?
And thus, Eva booked.
Limping all the way. That puck kicked her ars, she'd later insist to her step-father. Oh, he was amused, recalling days like that of his own, but regardless of her injury, he informed her that her act in society had to continue.
Which was why, as painful as it was, she sat beside him at a dining table in a great gala hall. Dinner had long passed, and the majority of the gala attendees had moved on to other locations for dancing and idle, huddled socializing. Normally, Lord Spencer would have had his step=daughter joining in on such activities, but he spared her this time. Though Eva tended not to complain over aches and pains, her hands were trembling and she remained hunched over (at least as much as her ivory corset allowed) whenever they were alone. So, Lord Spencer did spare her the normal abuse. She wouldn't complain any, for as much as Eva enjoyed talking, she enjoyed intelligent conversation... something simply not found at the galas the debutante and Lord had to attend.
Eva was taking a sip of champagne when she felt her step-father elbow her lightly. She glanced at him, to tell him to not do that as it hurt, but with his pointing around her to her other side, she swung her head that way. A blonde curl flopped in her face at the motion, but it went ignored; Eva never particularly minded her hair falling all over, as long as it still looked good as it happened.
Lord Spencer had been pointing to Caleb Sambol, a young London doctor, who had been attempting to swoon the debutante at every turn with flowers and stupid little poems he'd written himself, and midnight visits to her bedroom window, even. But Eva, tricksy and flighty, kept him at bay. There was no doubt that the young doctor was charming and chivalrous, but at the same time he was awfully condescending, and Eva wasn't about to play that game when considering (albeit not seriously) being courted.
The charming, dark haired man sat down beside her and gave her a kind smile. "Eva-darling, will you do me the honor of granting me a dance?" he asked, as he slid his hand across the table and over her own, well-jeweled hand.
Eva shook the random curl to the side of her face and gave a sweetly sardonic smile. "No, Caleb, I am afraid I am unable to do so."
Caleb almost responded, before his hand grasped around hers firmly. "You're quaking, darling--"
"I am not a quaker," she snapped. She tugged her hand away, and ignored the snickers coming from her step-father. "I am shuddering like an autumn leaf, about to fall from its branch!"
It was said so serious, and the serious look on Caleb's face caused Lord Spencer to choke on champagne as more snickers forced their way out of his body.
Caleb scooched closer to Eva, looking so serious and concerned. "Are you frightened or cold?" he asked.
"No, no," Eva replied. "I am simply injured."
"Injured?! What happened?"
"I tripped."
"Tripped?!"
He was a repeater, and something about that amused Eva greatly. But still, she kept completely serious as she spoke. "Over... yarn. And sprained my ankle, you see."
"Yarn...?"
"Yarn."
"What in the Heavens were you doing?"
Eva chewwed on her lip thoughtfull as she observed his stunned, almost horrified look now. "Speed crocheting. 'tis a lethal sport, when in competition with my mother-dearest."
Caleb blinked and tilted his head to the side. "Your ill mother?" he asked. He knew very well her mother was ill, as he'd responded to several housecalls on behalf of their normal doctor for her.
"It makes her feel pretty," Eva replied numbly. She tried desperating to completely ignore the whimpered chuckles of Lord Spencer rolling over her shoulder.
Caleb just... decided to nod, before he scooched to the edge of his chair and leant over to grab at her feet. "Which one is injured, darling?"
Eva gasped at that and jerked her knee up into his face while she slapped the table with both hands and yelped, "Thomas!" which promptly got a cane whack delivered to the back of Caleb's head.
Caleb, his nose and back of his skull both throbbing in pain, sat straight in a stunned hurry. "I only wish to help!" he exclaimed.
"I must say, sir," Lord Spencer said as he wagged his cane at the young doctor, "you are awfully quick to get into my step-daughter's personal space. Has no one told you a lady's ankles are off-limits?"
"Lord Spencer, sir!" Caleb objected.
But Lord Spencer was undeterred. "This is not a medical practitioner's office, lad, nor is it a brothel, despite what you may wish in regards to Lady Eva. We will have none of that ankle grabbing here."
"But--"
"If you are wise, you will take your leave."
"I--"
"Now."
After that, there was no hesitation as Caleb leapt from his chair and hurried away, hoping he'd managed to take some of his potentially lost dignity with.
Eva took up her champagne glass once more as she cast her eyes around the dining hall, acting cocky. "Mmhmm," she hummed over the rim of the glass as it was brought to her lips. "Everywhere I go, there is always someone seeking to get into my knickers."
Lord Spencer stared at her before snorting out a laugh. "You are one insufferably egotistical young woman, Eva."
"Insufferably adorable."
"You keep thinking that."
"Oh, I will, thank you."