The last golden rays of sunlight streamed through the grand arched windows of the manor. In the children's wing, the air was thick with anticipation. In their rooms, the children were preparing for the feast.
Emmett was the first to emerge from his room, his lean build perfectly suited to the fitted, black suit he now wore. His movements were precise and economical as he walked to the central living area.
Felix followed, nervously adjusting the lapels of his own black jacket and smoothing his combed hair, a small smile on his face.
Corbin, looking even more cynical than usual in a simple charcoal-gray suit, simply stood in a corner,
while Rhys, his black hair tied in a short ponytail, leaned against a wall, his posture stiff and unyielding.
Beatrice entered last, wearing a modest, elegant dress of light blue silk that complemented her long, blonde hair, which was neatly pinned up in a simple but elegant bun.
The twins, Eta and Theta, also made their way to the living area, their simple but beautiful dresses making them look less like experiments and more like the children they were supposed to be.
They stood close to each other, their curious eyes fixed on the others.
All of them were waiting for Briar. After a few minutes of strained silence, Emmett decided to go to her room. He knocked once, and when he received no answer, he simply entered.
Briar was sitting on a plush stool in front of a tall mirror. Her dress was a beautiful dark green silk that fell in soft, elegant folds to the floor. Her back was to him, and her long red hair cascaded over her shoulders. She was slowly, meticulously, running a silver comb through it.
He stood in the doorway for a moment, observing her. The light from the single bulb illuminating the subtle curve of her cheek and the deep crimson of her hair.
"Everyone is waiting,"
he said, his voice flat.
"Don't be late."
Briar's hand froze. Her eyes, reflected in the mirror, met his. A soft blush bloomed on her cheeks, and she turned around on the stool to face him, her hands, still holding the comb, now in her lap. Her voice was soft, hesitant.
"I'm almost done,"
she said. She paused for a moment before looking at the comb and then back at him.
"Could you... help me with my hair?"
Emmett's expression didn't change. The question was a display of emotion, something he could not comprehend.
"Why?"
he asked, his voice devoid of warmth.
"Because I want you to,"
she said simply, a new, gentle stubbornness in her tone.
He simply shook his head.
"No."
A flicker of disappointment, a small, almost unnoticeable shadow, crossed Briar's face. Her shoulders slumped just a bit before she straightened up. She turned back to the mirror, her motions now more deliberate as she quickly finished her hair. After a few moments, she stood up, smoothed down her dress, and turned to face him with a radiant smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
"Ready,"
she said.
As she stepped past him, she slid her hand around his arm and linked it through his. The touch was a shock, something unfamiliar, something warm against the cool fabric of his suit. He looked down at her hand, a silent question in his eyes.
"It makes us look more elegant,"
she said simply, a hint of amusement in her voice.
Together, they walked back to the living quarters. Felix's eyes widened when he saw them, and he grinned, raising his eyebrows as he began a non-stop stream of teasing.
"Look at that, everyone! Emmett and Briar, a pair already! Getting a head start on the whole 'working as a team' thing, are we?"
he joked.
Corbin couldn't be bothered. He just stood there, his shoulders hunched, trying to create as much space as he could from Eta, who was standing uncomfortably close to him, her face as blank as ever.
Rhys didn't bother to look, his head angled slightly away, his differences with Emmett and his pride preventing him from even a glance.
Beatrice, however, watched them walk in with a curious expression. Her hands clasped in front of her, she tilted her head slightly, a small frown forming between her eyebrows as her gaze lingered on Briar's hand on Emmett's arm. Her jaw tightened just a fraction, a silent, almost imperceptible sign of the complex emotions she was feeling.
Eventually, the group headed to the grand ballroom. The doors, made of heavy, polished brass, opened with a soft hiss, revealing a space teeming with scientists and researchers, dressed in their finest ballroom attire and accompanied by their families. The air smelled of expensive perfumes and savory foods, a contrast to the smell of antiseptic from the lab below.
The ballroom itself was a marvel of steampunk engineering. Intricate clockwork mechanisms adorned the walls, their gears turning in a silent rhythm. Massive brass pipes ran along the ceiling, and the music, a waltz played by a mechanical orchestra.
Once everyone had settled down, a hushed silence fell over the room. The Baron stood on a small, raised platform. He was dressed in a dark, imposing suit that made him look less like a scientist and more like the king he secretly aspired to be.
"Good evening, my distinguished colleagues,"
he began, his voice booming with pride.
"Tonight, we are here to celebrate a new age of science and human progress. You all have worked tirelessly, and today, your efforts have been rewarded. We have successfully stabilized the minds of the human beings who have received the pure Calvanite injection, and with them living long enoughto tell the tale."
He raised a glass to the children, his eyes gleaming with a mad, triumphant glee.
"A toast! To our success, and to the living proof that our work is a triumph!"
The children, uncomfortable under the weight of the crowd's gaze, all took a sip of the drink in front of them. The feast then began in earnest, with a stunning diversity of dishes—from roasted meats and glazed vegetables to intricate pastries.
After a while, the music changed, and the ball began. Couples filled the dance floor. Eta, with a firm grip, dragged a very reluctant Corbin out to dance.
Felix, still eating, declined to join in, while Rhys, walking up to Briar, asked for a dance. Briar, who had been hoping Emmett would ask her, agreed.
Emmett stayed by the wall, watching the dancing couples. His thoughts were a world away, replaying his mother's words over and over in his mind.
A soft voice broke his train of thoughts.
"You're not dancing?"
He looked to his side to see Beatrice. He shook his head.
"I'm not a good dancer."
Beatrice chuckled.
"That's a lie. Your father, he was Baron Thorne, wasn't he? I'm sure he made you have a few lessons."
She stopped, her eyes widening, her hand flying to her mouth as she realized what she had said.
"Oh, I'm so sorry for reminding you about your parents and... and what happened to them, Emmett. I… I'm on delicate grounds here, aren't I? I am so, so sorry."
"It's okay."
Emmett said, his voice flat. He was telling the truth. The mention of his father had done nothing but confirm his inner monologue.
"I just..."
He paused for a moment
"By the way, there's this curious question that's been bothering me, and it's about you, Beatrice. About your last name specifically."
"What is it?"
Beatrice asks with a curious look.
"Your last name is Fontaine. The royal family's name is also Fontaine. Is it coincidence... or possible that..."
Beatrice chuckled again, but this time, there was a slight tension in it.
"Maybe it is. Maybe it isn't."
Meanwhile, Briar, still dancing with Rhys, saw Emmett and Beatrice together, and her eyes narrowed slightly. A knot of frustration and confusion tightened in her chest.
Later that night, after the ball ended, the Baron called the children to his private study. He congratulated them again on their success, the twins included, and told them that they would begin their training tomorrow morning, with Eta and Theta supervising them.
"I will be traveling to the capital tomorrow for a meeting with the other barons,"
he said.
"In the coming days, you'll be trained by the twins. I wish you all success in your training and I hope you all live up to your potential."