Liadán had been looking forward to the evening. Vedir had invited her to the opera, and it had been a while since she had been- especially in the company of a handsome man. The last time Liadán had gone was with one of her cousins in France, and it had only been moderately enjoyable- due to her the company of her relatives, and not because of the opera itself.

The witch had spent a very long time getting ready. She had chosen a gown that she knew Vedir had never seen before- a new one she was saving for a fancy party or gala, but it was important to her that she impress him. Liadán was also wearing the necklace which he sent her in return for the pocket watch which she had owled him a few weeks before. Her hair was down, and carefully arranged. Liadán had stood in front of the mirror for a while, marveling at how she looked. She was certain that Vedir had never seen her in such perfect form, and was looking forward to the look on his face when he arrived at her estate.

Liadán had been not been let down by his reaction when he arrived at her estate, and after small chit chat they had apparated to London and gone to dinner prior to arriving at the opera house. Vedir was most certainly as charming as she had ever seen him, and Liadán was thoroughly enjoying his company- glad to be the absolute center of his attentions. Always vain, when any good looking man who made her the object of his affections, Liadán was usually satisfied with how things were going.

At the moment, Liadán was carefully perched on the seat next to him. They were in one of the few opera boxes, which afforded them a bit of privacy. "Vedir, darling, you've really out done yourself," she commented, peering through her opera glasses down to the lower seats, where people were currently being seated. "Do you come to the opera often?" Liadán could not imagine such seats were easy to come by- and wondered idly if he owned the box- but was unsure if asking would be rude or inappropriate. He certainly had the money to own any box he liked- or even the whole opera house, if he saw fit. Lothario had been considering purchasing the opera house before he found himself incarcerated. Poor man!

"Naturally, my dear," Vedir said, setting his wine glass aside. The words you deserve the best were not said, but his tone, his smile, the rich clothes he wore and the money he spent all said them with a firmness words could not. "I make it a point to do so, when appropriate."

Below, the crowd's polite chatter was a wall of noise; not loud, persay, but ever present, like a soft and slightly annoying buzz. The box muffled it, and the other amenities the box afforded them - wine in an ice bucket, a corner table with small, delicate and unmessy snacks, and comfortable couches - made it definitely preferable to sitting in the crowded seats below.

Besides, poor people had to be saddled with those seats, and the last thing Vedir would do was not use his money effectively. Why have wealth if one did not display it, after all?

"I come when the opera in question interests me," he said, sipping his wine again and looking at the program. "Or when I have other entertainment," he added, with a hint of playfulness. "I am lucky to have both tonight, Merlin be praised. Have you see this opera before? It's quite good, though the plot is a bit hard to follow in the second act..."

Liadan was flattered that he thought her company was an appropriate reason to be flashy. She rather enjoyed the idea of being able to take advantage of Vedir's wealth. Though her Gringotts vaults was far from small, it still paled in comparison of the wealth of Mr. Prideaux- which she was fully aware of.

She took a dainty sip of her own wine, and plucked one of the snacks from the tray, carefully nibbling as he talked about the opera, teasing her about being his other entertainment, and further explaining that the second half of the opera could be hard to follow.

"I hope I won't be too distracting if I need you to explain to me what is going on, I should hate to ruin the experience for you," she said with minimal concern. Liadan had a feeling even if the opera was supposedly hard to follow that she could keep up- but Liadan also knew that if she feigned confusion, it could make Vedir feel useful, and he might enjoy explaining what was happening. Her mother had taught her that men liked to feel useful, and more than being useful they enjoyed feeling more intelligent and competent.

"I doubt you will, my dear," he said, smiling slightly as the house lights dimmed to rush people to their seats. The music was warming up, which was dulling the wall of noise from below.

"Besides," he added, picking up his own wine glass and sipping, "While thankfully this particular opera doesn't have this issue, in many cases attempting to puzzle out the logic of the story is far more entertaining than the story itself..."

But, ah, wasn't that true of real life, too...? Perhaps opera was more realistic than he gave it credit for. At least they usually followed narrative logic, which was something people rarely did, unless you got them to do so when they weren't conscious of it...

"Not that you wouldn't be able to follow that," he added, tone lightly teasing. "Even if the logic is often in a world of its own..."

The opera was such a refined art that it managed to touch even the most cold hearted hearts, many of which belonged to those named Whitman. It explained partially explained why the family had its own reserved box for every performance, even if they were not able to attend. But usually, there was always someone in the family who wanted to go and sometimes, like on this particular evening, they made an event of it.

This same box was the very onethat had belonged to the Kerry family before the marriage into the Whitmans. Legend had it that Marie Kerry and James Whitman met and fell in love at an opera performance. It humanized the Whitmans to have that delicacy breathed into their porcelain, doll-like figures. It gave them new life, even as the Kerry name was soon to die.

Even the present day generation still held opera in high esteem, both in honor to that legend and also for their own sentimental reasonings. On this particular night, the Whitman box would be filled with Oz, his parents, his aunt and his younger cousin, Julie.

As the group entered the opera hall, with a fashionably late entrance as usual, Oz wryly thought about how the Whitman family could have its own opera for all of the drama. His father would use the night to escape from his mother and aunt's bickering. And his cousin Julie would likely sit beside him in passive aggressive silence, hoping to punish him for forever ruining her happiness from years ago.

As the ushers began to escort parties to their seats, Oz spotted a familiar face in the crowd but his expression turned grim as he saw who's arm she was on.

Leaning over to Julie, he muttered, "Care for a drink, Julez?"

The blonde Obliviator's brows shot up suspiciously. "Why?"

Without saying anything more, Oz grasped hold of her arm and pulled her down the hallway leading to the balcony seating just as the lights were dimmed. Reaching the door to one in particular, he cleared his throat and breezily chirped, "My if it isn't Mister Prideaux. And guest." He bowed his head in greeting. "Miss O'Morain....what a lovely surprise to see you here." A lie. "How are the flowers I've sent you?"

Liadan gave Vedir a coy smile, and a gentle smack to his knee. "Come now, Vedir! You certainly are not insinuating that I haven't any logic because I am a woman, are you?" she asked, sipping her wine again. "I can assure even ladies can use their brains from time to time- and far more effectively than most men surmise." Her tinkling laugh was distracted when a voice broke into their opera box.

She twisted in her seat, spotting Oscar with... a lady she did not recognize, but she could not have been a suitor by the way mentioned the flowers he had been sending. "Good evening, Mr. Whitman," she greeted- careful to keep her tone mostly neutral. She wasn't sure the appropriate behavior or response given the possibly awkward situation. Liadan had made no promises to either man, and had been greatly enjoying the attention she was receiving from both- but had not expected there to be a situation where all three would cross paths (apart from some sort of party or event, of course).

"They are very lovely," she answered his question. "My sitting room has never been quite so decorated." Liadan refrained from mentioning the fact that just last week Mr. Wiedman had come by and brought a bouquet to sit alongside them- she did not need Vedir and Oscar thinking she had three suitors. (Though as nice as  Dominik could be, he could hardly compare to the prestige of Whitman and Prideaux.)

She looked to Vedir then, hoping to take his lead as for what to say or do next. She was not sure how the two would react to one another, but if the girl on Oz's arm was in fact a date then he would have enough to worry about after he left the opera than the fact Liadan had been in attendance with Vedir.