The grand hall of the Celestial Sanctum was alive with the sound of music and laughter. Nobles dressed in lavish attire moved gracefully across the floor, their conversations blending into a sea of indistinct murmurs. The sheer opulence of the place was overwhelming to most—but not to me. I observed it all with a detached calm, eyes sharp as I assessed the gathering.
Prince Diluc stood near the center of the hall, his crimson-red hair gleaming under the golden chandeliers. His sharp features mirrored his sister Princess Caelia, who stood beside him. Both siblings bore the same regal air, though Diluc was tinged with a bolder charisma.
As I watched, Prince Diluc leaned toward Caelia, speaking softly. I couldn't hear their words over the music, but the dynamic between them was unmistakable.
I pieced it together swiftly—her bearing, her confidence, and now her proximity to the prince.
So, she's the princess.
It wasn't surprising, but knowing this added another layer of complexity to the evening.
I turned my gaze away, uninterested in dwelling on royal matters. Just as I began moving through the crowd, a familiar voice cut through the ambiance.
"Excuse me," called a man with an air of entitlement.
I turned to see Darius Valtor, son of the Marquise, standing with a smug expression. "Would you do me the honor of this dance?" he asked, his tone carrying a weight of expectation.
Sylvie, standing near the edge of the hall, kept her posture composed. She met Darius's gaze, her expression cool. "I cannot, my lord. I am here on duty."
Darius's eyes narrowed. "Surely, for one dance, you can spare some time. It would be quite rude to refuse a Marquise’s son."
Her response was polite but firm. "I am unable to, my lord. I apologize."
Darius’s smile faltered, irritation creeping into his features. The surrounding nobles began to murmur, clearly entertained by his frustration. Darius wasn't used to rejection, let alone from someone of Sylvie's standing.
This could turn unpleasant.
I stepped forward, interjecting before the situation escalated further. "Is there a problem here?"
Darius looked at me, momentarily taken aback by my presence. His eyes narrowed with irritation. "This does not concern you."
"It does now," I said coolly, my gaze unwavering. "She’s already declined. There's no need to drag this out."
Darius gritted his teeth but said nothing, his gaze flicking between me and Sylvie.
I turned to Sylvie, extending my hand. "Shall we?"
Sylvie hesitated for a brief moment, her eyes scanning the situation before she placed her hand in mine. "Of course."
We stepped onto the dance floor, and the eyes of the entire room were drawn to us. The soft sound of music swelled around us as we danced.
I led with precise movements, my body fluid, though inwardly I found little joy in this. I’d learned to dance long ago, not out of choice but necessity. In my previous life, appearances often demanded it.
Sylvie followed seamlessly, her movements graceful, her composure unwavering.
"You never mentioned you could dance," she whispered, her voice soft but curious.
"I never thought it was necessary," I replied, my tone casual. "I don't enjoy it."
"Then why?" she asked, a faint smile tugging at her lips.
"Sometimes it’s best to handle certain things personally," I said, my eyes briefly flickering toward Darius, who was watching us from the side with a tight, displeased expression.
The music played on, and the dance concluded with a final flourish, the surrounding nobles applauding politely. We released each other’s hands, and I gave a slight nod of acknowledgment to the crowd.
Darius, meanwhile, seemed to be brooding off in the corner, likely too humiliated to remain.
Sylvie’s voice broke through my thoughts. "Thank you, my lord."
I nodded slightly. "It was necessary."
The evening was far from over, but the atmosphere had already shifted. I knew the real game was just beginning. The nobles would hide their true motives behind pleasantries and smiles, but I’d seen enough to know that not all was as it seemed.
I stayed vigilant. A storm was brewing, and I would be ready for it when it came.
Just as I turned to scan the crowd once more, the sound of a loud gong echoed through the hall, silencing the whispers and murmurs.
The announcer’s voice rang out, strong and commanding.
"Attention, ladies and gentlemen! The ceremony is about to begin! However, His Majesty, Emperor Regulas, has sent his regards. Due to urgent matters, he will not be attending this evening’s event. Instead, the honorable Duke Alaric Wolfhart will take the stage instead."
A murmur ran through the room, a mixture of surprise and curiosity. The Emperor’s absence was unexpected, but the presence of Duke Alaric seemed to bring a sense of anticipation.
I stood still, my attention caught between the nobles’ reactions and the man they spoke of—the one who would be taking the emperor’s place.
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