Charles de Richelieu

The crystal chandelier in the Dumont Hall reflected hundreds of candles, casting glimmers of light on the faces of the noble guests. Charles de Richelieu, the young Count, stood confidently by a marble column, surveying the dancers. The ball was in full swing, and he found none of the ladies-in-waiting appealing. He found them all equally boring and predictable.
Adeline de Valois, daughter of the Count de Valois, gracefully waltzed with an elderly gentleman. Charles grinned, waiting for the music to die down.
When Adeline was free, he immediately approached. "Mademoiselle," Charles said with a slight bow. "Will you allow me to honor you with my company in the next dance?"
Adeline smiled back. "Monsieur de Richelieu, I would be delighted to join you."
The first chords of the music – and they whirled into a waltz. Charles held Adeline in his arms, enjoying her light touch. He looked into her eyes, trying to see something more than mere politeness in them.
"You dance like an angel, Adeline," Charles said, breaking the silence. "Every movement you make is the embodiment of grace."
"You flatter me, Charles," Adeline replied with a smile. "But I admit that I love to dance."
The waltz ended, Charles squeezed Adeline's hand tighter and looked into her eyes. "Adeline, in the light of these stars and candles, you are not just a girl, you are the echo of my soul, which I have heard all my life, but only now realized."