Tap tap tap!
The royals waltzed with ease, an ease that made every step feel rehearsed.
There they were...
Murmurs rippled through the gathered nobles.
Some bowed their heads ceremoniously....whilst others attempted to hide the envy in their eyes.
This was the real main attraction.
Clad in deep sapphire and ivory, garments stitched with threads of silver, that caught the lights above like diamonds.
Their cloaks trailed in silence, each embroidered with the Elyndor sigil; one that had remained stead first for decades, outlasting betrayals, usurps and time itself.
A pair of golden phoenixes glowing with a dormant pulse, its crimson accents stealing the view.
A bloodline of the finest.
That identical flowing golden hair and crimson eyes a clear example; one of pedigree and value.
"Is that the princess?"
"Truly remarkable...."
She was.
It was then, under all the murmurs a proud voice spread.
The owner, being King Azarel:
"Raise your heads," he declared, his tone carrying the warmth of pride, but also the weight of command. "Tonight is not merely a night of celebration, but of promise." His gaze swept across the gathered families and nobles, the first years below, and the silent figures standing at attention.
"Before you stand the future of Eldris, the heirs of the finest bloodlines, the brightest talents our kingdom has nurtured." he voiced, seemingly speaking to foreign observers, "Among you walk those who will one day carry our banner beyond this hall....beyond this kingdom...and into the stars themselves."
The words spread, dignified and stirring.
Nobles stood tall; the younger half flushing with pride and whispering in awe.
The Elite Class had contrasting expressions....but the feeling to prove themselves burned brighter.
Noble or commoner...that emotion rose.
His legacy stood to sides of him: Prince Samuel with a haughty expression, a tilted chin ever so slightly, one that dared to be ignored. Opposite to him stood his contemporary, Princess Saphira. A composed poise that mirrored still water, her motions were deliberate as her hands graced the railing in-front, the air around her exuded quiet grace.
The music seemed to still, as even the instruments bowed to the King's words.
It was then, with a single motion of his hand, the silence broke.
Strings and horns emerged in harmony, fresh and vibrant.
The hall bloomed with life.
The ball had begun.
----------
Conversations coincided with the music wafting in the air.
All around the room chatter flowed: nobles traded glances heavy with pride, envy and ambition.
Whispers of the princess's glow floated around, other's whispered of the Elite Class and the future of Eldris.
The phrase 'Blessing' sifted through more than once in the pauses of sound.
It was a calm exterior behind the masks of shallowness.
All the first years were scattered across the hall; the commoners discussing amongst themselves as they dealt with the...looks, given to them.
The more fortunate individuals huddled mostly to the side; body language suggesting this atmosphere was a natural occurrence.
The same dynamics could be represented through the Elite Class; members like Caelun, Torin, Enyx, Izan and Rowen were in their own worlds, postured to the side.
This wasn't their climate.
On the other-hand: Seris, Veyna, Aelana, Naeva and Lyria were in their own section; most of the conversation was steered by Veyna.
Tap tap tap
A flow of movement stepped towards Jacob.
A minor lord's son?
His face was still soft with youth, but eager to rise.
He stepped close with a simple bow.
"An honour to see you tonight, Lacura." he began, eyes softly brightening. "Your performance in the trials was....unforgettable. My father speaks of you often." the last sentiment flowed with pride, it seemed he'd become household.
"Perhaps, one day--"
'...Annoying.'
Jacob's lips curved, an easy warm smile. The kind that disarmed with ease.
"Your father honours me too much. Tonight is not for battles or titles, let's all enjoy the days with peace of mind....hmm? What do you say?"
The boy froze before he nodded quickly.
Pride swelled at being addressed to so casually...
He excused himself, head held high, replaying the words in his head.
As soon as he turned, Jacob's eyes dimmed....
The smile faded into a blank canvas, his gaze flicking to the crowd slowly.
Across the hall, Enyx stood with Torin, the two bored for everything they hold dear.
"Can't believe they find things like this fun," Enyx muttered, eyes staring at jewelled gowns and unnatural laughs.
Torin glanced at him, his reply coming flat, like an anchor sinking to the bottom of the ocean.
"...They don't."
Enyx's white suit stood out under the blinding lights, tattoos crawling faintly at his collar; the music fogging his ears:
"Huh? So what's the point of stuff like this?" he expressed, a tilt of his head and wry smirk to boot.
Torin just looked at him, a silent exchange pacing through their vision before Enyx broke it; a low and careless chuckle.
Standing around the second floor was Princess Saphira.
Her father had already dispersed somewhere, and her brother....'the stars know.'
Occasions like this even bore her, but they were necessary....she knew that.
'Appearances must be kept....'
Sigh
Her appearance was being monitored as usual by guards and such, but it seemed that some were staring longer than others.
Glancing down, her eyes met Jacob Lacura.
She'd seen and heard countless titles spread around since she was young.
Were they all accurate?
No.
But watching him....she felt it, there was something deeper inside.
Something that resonated faintly with her own.
Was it possible?
'...No.'
She brushed the thought aside.
'....For him to almost be bested by a Silent. No.'
Under the thoughts burning in the air....it was then the music in the room changed.
Violins drew out soft, aching rhythms.
The laughter and chatter dimmed as the change came.
It was easing.
One perfect for dancing.
As stated it didn't take long for couples to drift to the centre, pulled by the spell of a slow dance.
Fayl lingered at the edge, his eyes scanning the shift.
His fingers twitched at his sides.
The words had repeated in his head, as he tried to grapple with the best wording. It didn't take long before he just cast out his hand to his partner, Selle.
That signature grin came to life. "Would you believe me if I said I've been waiting all night for this?".
His palm opened, steady despite the faint thump in his chest.
A smile sported Selle's face as she arched a brow. "Waiting... or stalling?"
He chuckled softly, that long black hair cascading past his shoulders, "Both maybe. Depends on your answer..."
Her gaze held him frozen for a beat....
thump
Her lips curved, slightly.
thump
The kind of smile that weighed more than words.
She let her gaze dip to his hand hovering in the air, then back up to his face.
thump
A breath, small and deliberate left her before she placed her hand on his.
thump thump
"Depends how well you dance."
Chuckles rang out from the side.
The culprits?
A whole range.
Enyx chuckled whilst Torin raised a curved smile.
The other first years further back joined.
Even Lyria's features softened watching the scene.
But of course....the nobles posted around...their glances sharpened.
The faintest narrowing of eyes at the view.
Whispers trailed, like strings plucked out of tune.
Fayl didn't care.
He only grinned wider as he guided her toward the centre.
A slow melody swelling.
More joined the dance floor alongside them, one of them being Jacob, who seemed to be coupled with Seris after he approached her; a soft smile gracing her lips.
It was a scene of delicateness.
Laughter and applause followed every daring spin, and throw.
To any outsider the hall gleamed with light and nothing else.
In corners, whispers still remained.
"Where is that Silent boy? Strange he hasn't shown himself", a voice muttered low, carrying a bite to his remarks.
"Better this way," another answered with a scoff.
"A cursed existence like that isn't made for halls like these. That statement bleeds truer than the commoners at the back."
"And the Voss boy?" a third chimed, curious.
"Still locked away I gather. A pity truly...maybe mercy."
The whispers died as they came, unable to resurrect themselves at the sight of happiness.
Jacob guided Seris, his smile carrying no flaws under the chandeliers glow.
Fayl and Selle moved closer, laughter in their beat as stares only increased.
Postured to the side, a royal guard shifted in his footing, eyes scanning the crowd with an unwavering watchfulness.
Atop the balcony, the King's glass rose.
Music climbed in answer.
A brilliant arc of brightness.
The night drove on.