The Amsberg family estate boasted a magnificent ballroom that was truly remarkable. A golden glow was cast across the polished marble floors by massive chandeliers that hung from the ceiling. The stories of Avalonia's past were depicted on the tapestry-adorned walls, and the celestial designs painted on the vaulted ceiling seemed to come to life in the soft flicker of candlelight. Avalonia's elite, dressed to the nines in lavish attire befitting the occasion, were humming in the room as they engaged in discreet conversations.

Standing at the top of a grand staircase, Vincent Maximillian Von Amsberg took in the surroundings. Power and grace emanated from his new suit, which was made to measure for his now-muscular physique. Only a tiny amount of light was caught by the dark fabric with gold threadStanding at the top of a grand staircase, Vincent Maximillian Von Amsberg took in the surroundings. His newly tailored suit exuded power and elegance, perfectly fitting his now-muscular physique. The black fabric, embroidered with gold threads, glinted in the light just enough to be noticed without coming across as garish. There was silence in the room, just his presence at the top of the stairs.

Vincent realized that this was it. I've been waiting for this moment.

His faithful butler, Sebastian, murmured, "Young Master", from behind him. All of the visitors are present. Everything is going according to schedule.

Vincent nodded calmly and confidently. "All right. Let's make it an unforgettable evening for them".

There was a whisper among the people as he came down the steps. He was followed by eyes that showed varying degrees of curiosity, skepticism, and thinly concealed envy. Nevertheless, Vincent ignored them. He was focused on his performance tonight; this was a display of dominance, not just a gala.

Sebastian, his devoted servant, was waiting for him at the foot of the stairs. "Shall I announce your entrance, Young Master?"

Vincent grinned a little. Not necessary. They are aware of who I am already".

Sebastian nodded his head in agreement and laughed. When Vincent moved toward the ballroom's center, the audience parted like waves to make way for him. The room fell silent. The anticipation in the air seemed to crackle at his mere presence, which demanded attention.

Vincent opened the hall with a voice that echoed through the hall, "Thank you all for coming tonight." "This gala marks not just a celebration, but a new era for the Amsberg family."

Though there was a courteous applause, Vincent realized that words would not suffice on their own. It was time to prove his strength to them.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

Vincent mixed with the guests as the evening wore on, shifting topics of conversation between trade, politics, and family matters with ease. He was aware that everyone was watching him and analyzing every word he said and every action. It was a fine dance, where one wrong move could mean disaster.

He was once in the company of Duke Renford, a tough guy with a razor-sharp tongue and even sharper wit. The Duke had a reputation for pushing younger nobility to the limit and verifying their mental sharpness and endurance.

"So, young Vincent," the Duke said as he swirled his wine glass. "There are rumors that you've recently developed some outstanding skills. Would you be willing to show? Or do these tales simply serve to enhance your reputation by spreading more fantastical ones?"

Although Vincent was smiling, there was a glint in his eyes. The timing couldn't have been better.

"Your Grace, naturally, but I don't want to overwhelm anyone," Vincent said with ease. The right stage is necessary for a power demonstration."

The Duke's eyebrow went up. "Oh? And what appropriate stage would that be?"

Vincent pointed to the piano, its sleek black surface glinting in the lights, which sat in the ballroom's corner. "Music, Your Grace, has always been the most elegant display of mastery."

As Vincent approached the piano, the audience murmured in curiosity. Sebastian slid to one side and offered him a chair, but Vincent waved him off. "No need, Uncle Sebastian."

Vincent, on the other hand, inhaled deeply, raised his hands, and with a casual flick of his wrist, the piano lid opened effortlessly. The audience gasped in surprise.

Feeling as though no one had touched them, the piano keys moved with another wave, producing an eerily lovely melody. A sense of wonder was evident as the music filled the room. Vincent seemed to be conducting an invisible orchestra as his fingers moved slightly above the keys.

Vincent wasn't finished, though. His goal was to make this event unforgettable.

He moved his fingers once more, and the room's lights went down so that the piano was the only source of light. The chandelier overhead abruptly started to slowly rotate, illuminating the audience members' faces and the walls with shifting patterns of light.

The guests gazed in amazement. No words could be said, not even by the Duke, who moments earlier had expressed skepticism.

Vincent then concluded the performance with a final flourish. The lights brightened and the chandelier moved back to its original position. The final note played on the piano reverberated throughout the quiet room.

There was only stunned silence for a moment.

Then there was an explosion of applause. It sounded like thunder. Individuals stood up, applauding and clapping, with some even dabbing away their tears. They were dazzled by Vincent's impressive performance.

A few nobles who had been keeping a close eye on Vincent moved to intercept him as he was leaving the piano. Emelia Rose was one of them, her amused sparkle illuminating her keen green eyes.

"That was quite the performance," she remarked, her tone simultaneously playful and appreciative. "That's the most skillful way I've ever seen someone play the piano. or chandeliers, to be more precise."

With a rare sense of humor, Vincent laughed. "I aim to surprise."

Emelia furrowed her brow. You were undoubtedly successful. I almost hesitate to inquire as to what more you may have planned."

"Just hang around," was Vincent's sly response. "The night's just getting started."

Just as he was about to finish speaking