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Chapter 8 - Banquet

YEAR 1706

It was around this time that 16-year-old Elira began to wonder what her fiancé actually looked like, how he sounded, and most importantly, how he behaved.

That morning, as Elira was being dragged to her daily lesson, she noticed her Father watching from afar, his hands folded. 

His tall and thin, angular frame made his presence seem like a shadow in the distance, always there but never truly visible. His hair was dark and flowing as a draft brushed against it. Elira looked around, seeing no windows. His skin was pale with dark circles under his eyes, the classic appearance of a ghost in every fairytale she heard the maids recount to one another from outside her room. Never included in the conversation, but always able to hear them. Perhaps they were more torture than salvation, those moments.

Elira slowly entered the study room as the sight of her Father passed. Even so, she was trembling more than she normally would during a lesson, the argument could even have been made that she was trembling even more that day. 

"Greetings, Miss Mara."

"Witch," the Maid responded, nodding her head. Elira didn't respond. "We'll be learning about noble etiquette and dance today," Mara spoke with long and slow pauses. The two studied each other's faces before Mara clapped her hands as Elira was forced to stand up.

The next week was full of preparations. Elira had become practically fluent in dance, almost as though it were a second language. She spent so long mastering her curtsy, making sure it was perfect underneath the watchful gaze of Mara and RIan, who was holding a whip in his right hand.

Throughout the years, Rian had grown taller and was now 24 years old. Despite already completing successor training and with such accuracy, he was not poised to become the Duke anytime soon. The Current Duke was still exceptionally healthy, physically at least. Perhaps Rian would only become Duke over Ronan Veylen's dead body. 

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A Few Days Later...

Elira was dressed up in a fantastical yet sleek blue dress with white and gold ornaments adorning several lines along the dress as well as the hem of her gown. She wore an extravagant white necklace around her neck, but only a few knew its dark secret. The necklace not only prevented Elira from taking it off but also from divulging any secrets about House Veylen through some sort of dark magic.

[I wonder where I'm going... I want to take this dress off... It's too heavy. I liked my old clothes.]

The bumpy road of the carriage severely ached Elira's butt as she looked out the window, noticing a large mansion with lights flashing from every window.

[W-Woah... what is that place?]

"Madam. We've arrived. House Dreyos's annual ball."

"What? House Dreyos? Isn't that our rival...?" Elira muttered to herself as she stepped down from the carriage, walking towards the doors, immediately getting blinded by the lights inside. She had never been to a place so extravagant. 

[This place is too bright... I should find some place to sit... Ah... Maybe I can make some friends?]

Elira recalled the brutal words from Mara about establishing connections. She noticed two women talking to each other. They looked around her age, somewhat. Elira began striding towards them, her silky black hair flowing down beside her blue dress and her violet eyes twinkling against her fair skin with a sheen of determination. 

"H-Hello... Ladies." Elira executed a perfect curtsy underneath their gazes. The lady with red hair and blue eyes spoke first.

"And who might you be? Miss...?"

"Ah... You may call me Miss Elira. Miss- I mean- Lady Elira Veylen." The Lady stared at her face, inspecting her.

"Veylen..." Elira gulped, unsure of what the other person was thinking. "Ah! I'm just joking! Nice to meet you, Lady Elira. My name is Lady Miren Estmere, and this is Lady Alenya Durnholde." She gestured to the lady beside her, who had fair skin the color of sand, light brown hair, and green eyes that resembled emeralds.

"Miren, you've scared the poor girl." Alenya placed her hands in Elira's. "O-oh... I like your gloves. This white really suits your blue dress." Alenya spoke with such clarity.

"Thank you...!" Elira spoke up, surprised, her hands held back, a wide grin on her face. "U-Um... May I be your friend? Both of you?"

"Hehe! Of course, Lady Elira!" Miren interjected, giving a one-armed hug to Elira.

"Sure, I'll be your friend too," Alenya responded, needing to adjust her pants as she moved in to hug Elira, catching her attention.

"P-pants...?"

"Oh- don't mind her, dear. Alenya is a bit of a character, as they say. She doesn't like the same things we do." Miren nudges Elira as she uncomfortably moves along with her force. "She wishes to become a knight someday. She may be wearing a dress over those pants, but look at 'er. She's itching to get out of it."

"Oh, hush!" Alenya blushed as the three girls looked at each other. The girls giggled with each other, but were suddenly interrupted.

"KYA!!!" A scream came from the middle of a room as Elira's head snapped to it in fear of the loud noise, followed by a thud as two grown men were on the floor, one pushing the other against the floor. 

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