It had been a long time since Cecilia had worn something this extravagant.
The smoky-gray gown was made of layers of gauzy fabric, its voluminous skirt flaring elegantly with each step. The fitted waistline hugged her figure perfectly—graceful, tall, and poised—striking a balance between opulence and refinement.
The upper bodice featured an asymmetrical design: one shoulder veiled in soft tulle, the other revealing a smooth expanse of fair skin and a glimpse of her collarbone. Silver pins sparkled subtly along the seam, adding just the right hint of playfulness beneath her quiet elegance.
Every guest at the banquet was dressed beautifully, yet beside Cecilia, they somehow seemed to fade into the background.
That innate, untouchable air she carried—refined, distant, and cold—was something no one could imitate.
Blair knew it too. Which was precisely why jealousy burned deeper in her heart.
Cecilia lifted her skirt slightly as she walked toward the center of the garden.
