It has always been fashionable among the ton to complain of ennui, but surely this year's crop of partygoers has raised boredom to an art form. One cannot take two steps at a society function these days without hearing the phrase "dreadfully dull," or "hopelessly banal."

 

If there is to be an antidote for the disease of tedium, surely it will be Sunday's fete at Park House. The entire family will gather, along with a hundred or so of their closest friends, to celebrate the dowager viscountess's birthday . It is considered crass to mention a lady's age, and so This Author will not reveal which birthday Lady Park is celebrating . But have no fear! This Author knows!

 

Mrs. Jeon's Society Papers, 9 April 2017 Spinsterhood was a word that tended to invoke either panic or pity, but Hyul was coming to realize that there were decided advantages to the unmarried state. First of all, no one really expected the spinsters to dance at balls, which meant that Hyul was no longer forced to hover at the edge of the dance floor, looking this way and that, pretending that she didn't really want to dance.

 

Now she could sit off to the side with the other spinsters and chaperones. She still wanted to dance, of course—she rather liked dancing, and she was actually quite good at it, not that anyone ever noticed— but it was much easier to feign disinterest the farther one got from the waltzing couples. Second, the number of hours spent in dull conversation had been drastically reduced.

 

Her mom had officially given up hope that Hyul might ever snag a husband, and so she'd stopped ing her in the path of every third-tier eligible bachelor. Hyul’s mom had never really thought Hyul had a prayer of attracting the attention of a first- or second-tier bachelor, which was probably true, but most of the third-tier bachelors were classified as such for a reason, and sadly, that reason was often personality, or lack thereof.

 

Which, when combined with Hyul's shyness with strangers, didn't tend to promote sparkling conversation. And finally, she could eat again. It was maddening, considering the amount of food generally on display at ton parties, but women on the hunt for husbands weren't supposed to exhibit anything more robust than a bird's appetite. This, Hyul thought gleefully (as she bit into what had to be the most heavenly eclair outside of Japan), had to be the best spinster perk of all.

 

"Good heavens," she moaned. If sin could take a solid form, surely it would be a pastry. Preferably one with chocolate.

 

"That good, eh?"

Hyul choked on the eclair, then coughed, sending a fine spray of pastry cream through the air.

 

"Chanyeol," she gasped, fervently praying the largest of the globs had missed his ear.

 

"Hyul." He smiled warmly.

 

"It's good to see you."

 

"And you." He rocked on his heels—once, twice, thrice—then said, "You look well."

 

"And you," she said, too preoccupied with trying to figure out where to set down her eclair to offer much variety to her conversation.

 

"That's a nice dress," he said, motioning to her green silk gown.

 

She smiled ruefully, explaining, "It's not yellow."

 

"So it's not." He grinned, and the ice was broken. It was strange, because one would think her tongue would be tied the tightest around the man she loved, but there was something about Chanyeol that set everyone at ease. Maybe, Hyul had thought on more than one occasion, part of the reason she loved him was that he made her feel comfortable with herself.

 

"Jiyeon tells me you had a splendid time in Jeju," she said.

 

He grinned. "