But Wait! There's More!: Took Me Long Enough

Christabel didn't see Oliver the next day, or the day after that, or the week after that, or for a good two months after that. In fact the more she became a Lady of her father's society, the less she thought about Oliver until all thoughts of him had evaporated. She even had a betrothal, waiting for her official admission into Ladyhood.
Then, on the night of such admission, she was reminded of Oliver.
As was traditional, the week before she had been given several sets of painfully detailed tattoos on her feet, arms, shoulders, torso, and legs. She had bathed in rose baths, another tradition that was suppose to sooth the pain. It didn't.
In honor of the Night, she had dressed in a nearly non-existant white dress that showed all her tattoos wonderfully. After being escorted to the moonlit pond, Christabel was left to perform the final Ladyhood rituals on her own.
Which was when the thoughts came.
It started with a prickling on the neck. The sense that someone was watching her. Finally, she turned around...and there he was. A familiar face; Oliver.
"Oliver!" she hissed. He jumped, as if not expecting her to seem him.
"Oh, um, sorry...what are you doing?"
"A ritual! And I'm supposed to be alone so...go away!"
"I haven't seen you around lately."
Christabel flushed, "I have been...busy."
"I can tell." Oliver took a step towards her.
Christabel backed farther into the pond. "Go away!" she hissed, "You should not be here...don't you take a step closer."
"Why not? No one can hear us."
"Is that a threat?"
"If you want it to be."
"You are sick."
"You're the one thinking of it."
The both of them glowered at each other through the darkness for several minutes. Then, Christabel sniffed.
"Why are you so interested in me, anyways? It was only one irrational night; it does not mean anything."
"I have a message to deliver to you."
"What? And you have been holding it for two months?"
"More or less...yes."
"You are crazy."
"You're the one in a pond, not me."
Christabel sighed, "I told you, it is tradition."
"Doesn't make you more or less of a Lady, now, does it." Oliver bent down, and whispered. "You could run away tonight. No one would know until they were supposed to fetch you." Then, he left.
Christabel stared after him, dumbfounded. She blinked several times, processing his statement slowly.