Nyx soon comes to realize that this is... maddening. Sure, Laurent is safe from his would-be suitors for the time being while he's seated next to Earl Clarus with the twinkling eyes and the kindly smile, but he had never before been so keenly aware of how many people had their eyes on the young prince at any given moment, desire writ in the way they incline their heads as if to listen to in on the sound of his voice, in lingering glances and charming smiles angled to catch his attention. Not for the first or last time, Nyx wonders if Auguste has gone utterly stark raving mad. How is he supposed to stand between Laurent and this... onslaught?

Not that he won't try his damndest all the same.

So he's prepared when Marquis Pellio attempts to approach, shooting Laurent an apologetic glance as he lays a light hand on his arm and cutting in once more.

"My lord, I must apologize. I have claimed His Highness's first dance of the night." And perhaps all the ones after, if it comes to that.