The night after that honest conversation did not truly end when the lamps were extinguished. It lingered as a residual warmth in Elena's chest and as a quiet unrest in Alessandro's mind. Morning arrived carrying a new awareness that their closeness was no longer merely a consequence of the curse, but something slowly shaping its own rhythm fragile, unspoken, yet undeniably real.
The invitation to the aristocratic gala arrived just after breakfast, delivered by a servant in white gloves and an expression far too neutral for a situation that was clearly dangerous. Alessandro examined the seal with a furrowed brow while Elena leaned over his shoulder without the slightest hint of restraint.
"A party?" Elena murmured. "In the middle of a curse, a scandal, and a reputation that almost collapsed?"
Alessandro let out a long breath. "Precisely because of that," he replied coolly. "Absence would be even more dangerous."
He understood the rules of noble society all too well. They were more merciless than any spell. Gossip was currency, and absence was an admission of guilt. Elena understood it too, even though a faint ache still pulsed behind her temples from a curse that had not fully stabilized.
"Very well," she said at last. "If we are to be displayed, we might as well do so with grace."
---
Preparations began in the late afternoon, and for the first time their closeness was tested in a truly public setting. Chiara Vittoria di Santelmo swept in like a storm of perfume and silk, her eyes gleaming the moment she saw them.
"Oh, this will be delicious," she purred with near indecent delight.
Alessandro rubbed his temples. "I can already feel my reputation collapsing before the evening even begins."
Chiara patted his shoulder with a wicked smile. "Relax, Alessandro. If your reputation falls, we can always build a new one. Something far more dramatic."
Elena suppressed a laugh, pretending to focus on adjusting her gloves. Matteo and Isabella arrived soon after, Matteo with his effortlessly charming smile, Isabella with her calm gaze that seemed to register everything without comment.
Elena's gown was a pale gold, reflecting light like the gentle yet undeniable sun of the South. Alessandro wore a black suit accented with Northern silver, rigid and imposing like a living statue. Standing side by side, their contrast formed a harmony that immediately drew glances from across the room.
"Ten meters," Elena whispered lightly, reminding him.
Alessandro nodded, only then realizing how instinctively they now maintained that distance without conscious thought. The realization sent an unfamiliar sensation through his chest, as though something had shifted without asking permission.
---
The gala unfolded in a grand hall with soaring ceilings and crystal chandeliers that shimmered like constellations. Music drifted softly through the air, glasses chimed, and aristocratic smiles were exchanged with near mechanical precision. Alessandro entered with perfect posture, Elena at his side, and whispers rippled through the crowd like water disturbed by a stone.
"Look at them, Ravenna and Fiorenza," someone murmured a little too loudly. "They say they are bound."
Alessandro resisted the urge to scoff. Elena continued to smile serenely, as if she heard nothing at all. Yet within her chest there was a subtle vibration neither pain nor heat but something far harder to define.
The emotional telepathy surfaced first as discomfort that was not entirely her own. When Alessandro felt a surge of vigilance and restrained anger under the weight of so many gazes, Elena felt it too, her chest tightening without clear cause. She paused and drew a careful breath.
"Alessandro," she whispered. "Are you angry?"
He turned to her quickly. "No," he replied by instinct. Then he hesitated. "Perhaps a little."
Elena blinked, startled by the honesty that slipped out so easily. She felt the sensation ease, as though his admission had soothed something inside her. Their eyes met briefly before both looked away, realizing there was now another layer to the curse and it was far more intimate than physical distance.
---
Giuliano appeared with a broad grin and a glass of wine, positioning himself far too close to Alessandro.
"Ravenna," he said cheerfully. "You look like a man holding back a hundred sarcastic remarks at once."
"Leave before I say all of them," Alessandro replied flatly.
Giuliano laughed. "See? This is what I missed."
Chiara was already working half the room, distributing smiles and gossip with alarming efficiency. Isabella stood beside Elena, her voice gentle but weighted with meaning.
"Are you all right?" she asked.
Elena nodded, though uncertainty flickered across her face. "I just feel a bit constricted."
Isabella followed her gaze toward Alessandro, then looked back at Elena. "That feeling is not entirely yours, is it?"
Elena said nothing, but her expression was answer enough.
---
The music shifted into a livelier rhythm, and the dance floor began to fill. Matteo approached with confident steps and offered a slight bow.
"Lady Elena," he said warmly. "May I have this dance?"
Elena glanced at Alessandro by reflex, then smiled politely. "Of course."
Something tightened in Alessandro's chest as he watched them move onto the floor. He stood rigid, fists clenching without his noticing. Giuliano caught the reaction immediately and smirked.
"Oh?" he murmured. "Is Ravenna experiencing something rather green?"
"Be quiet," Alessandro snapped.
On the dance floor, Elena moved with natural grace, following the rhythm effortlessly. Matteo was a perfect partner, light on his feet, attentive, his smile sincere.
"You dance beautifully," he told her.
Elena smiled back, but the weight in her chest only grew heavier. Each laugh and compliment from Matteo was accompanied by a strange pulse that made breathing difficult.
From across the hall, Alessandro watched with his jaw set. He did not know what he was feeling. He only knew that seeing Elena smile at someone else made the world feel colder. Without realizing it, that feeling crossed the boundary of the curse and reached her.
---
Elena faltered mid step. Matteo looked at her with concern.
"Is something wrong?" he asked.
She shook her head quickly. "Nothing," she replied, though her chest felt unbearably tight. She recognized the jealousy sharp and cold not her own, yet vividly real enough to disrupt her balance.
Across the hall, Alessandro felt a surge of guilt. He understood what was happening almost at the same moment she did.
Damn it, he muttered under his breath.
Giuliano raised an eyebrow. "Did you just send your feelings across the link?"
Alessandro shot him a glare. "Do not start."
Matteo ended the dance when he noticed how pale Elena had become.
"Perhaps we should stop," he said gently.
Elena nodded, forcing a smile. As she returned to the edge of the hall, the pressure in her chest eased slightly and Alessandro knew it was because he had deliberately calmed his own thoughts.
Their eyes met from across the room. No words were exchanged, yet a silent acknowledgment passed between them, leaving both shaken.
That was you, Elena thought, though she had no idea how she knew.
---
Comedy arrived, as it often did, at the worst possible moment. Chiara approached with sparkling eyes.
"Oh, so this is that kind of party," she said brightly. "Did I miss something?"
"A great deal," Giuliano replied with a laugh. "And I intend to enjoy every second of it."
Alessandro inhaled deeply, struggling to reclaim his composure.
"This is merely an effect of the curse," he said coolly, though his words came a fraction too fast.
Elena looked at him with an expression caught between amusement and exhaustion. "Of course," she said softly. "Just the curse."
The night continued with tension that was subtler yet far deeper. Every small emotion felt amplified. Every glance carried weight. Alessandro grew more protective, standing closer than usual. Elena, though still graceful, declined any further dances.
As the gala drew to a close, they stood together on the balcony, the night air brushing gently against their skin.
"I do not like that feeling," Elena said at last.
"Neither do I," Alessandro answered honestly.
They fell silent, then both let out a small, nervous laugh, acknowledging that something dangerous had just been born.
The aristocratic gala ended without major incident in the eyes of the public. But for Alessandro and Elena, that night marked a turning point. They had arrived as two nobles bound by a curse, and returned with the realization that the bond now reached into far more perilous territory.
Feelings.