This wasn’t how I wanted things to begin, Shaden thought.
The dragon had told him that the pearl would let them recognize him, not fall to the ground in fear. He’d wanted to introduce himself as Boren’s friend. The prince was on good terms with his sisters, often boasting about their compassionate and wise nature that surpassed his. But now? They’d left as if escaping. He couldn’t forget the glare in Princess Rayel’s eyes, nor the trembling of Princess Valencia. Eilae had always emphasized appearances out in public. Little as he knew, he knew that he’d done something terrible to them.
He’d caught a whiff of Princess Rayel’s emotions as she’d left. It had been clear that she was bitter. The knights had genuinely wanted to cut him down. And from all those around him—amusement, disdain, surprise, curiosity.
My head hurts already, he groaned inside. He withdrew from the buzz of emotions around him and tried to cool his head. Emotionless, emotionless…
“Shaden.”
It was a whisper from Eilae. Too soft for anyone else to hear, but he heard it clearly. He turned to her. There wasn’t the slightest sliver of worry in her eyes. She was there to help him when he failed.
“We must continue,” Shaden smiled, spreading his arms with grace. He’d practiced it a fair amount of times. Letting Eilae take his arm, his legs led him forward back to the front where all of the other members of the family were waiting. He could feel the stares of the nobles without looking at them. What would he say to them? He hadn’t practiced that. Sorry? Let’s continue everyone, please forget everything that just happened.
A loud sound turned all eyes away from him. Esel had cleared his throat, descending the stairs to approach him. When within arm’s reach, he placed a sturdy hand on Shaden’s shoulder and smiled.
“It seems that the Princesses of Melern were surprised by the appearance of an unexpected acquaintance,” Esel spoke. “But I assure you that there will be no complications.”
“Acquaintance?”
“The Veurbois have ties to the Melernian Royalty?”
Murmurs arose again. Only the members of the Great Families seemed unfazed.
The crowd quieted down once more when Esel raised an arm to speak. “Many of you will wonder who this boy is. And to that, I say—our dearest. That is all. Now then, enjoy yourselves.”
Shaden let out a deep breath through his nose. The nobles were quick to act. Even before a servant could get him a chair, many had lined up before him to obtain a chance to greet him. Or greet Esel?
“I greet the Duke—”
“Yes, and farewell.”
The noble left with an embarrassed and confused expression. The next noble walked up. This time, he began with a deep bow.
“I greet the Duke—”
“Yes, and farewell.”
The second noble left as well, equally as flustered as the first. The third noble did not approach but took some steps back, hesitant to approach them. Now, as it was customary for the lesser houses to greet the owner of the greater house, an awkward situation had formed since no one was coming to greet them. Shaden saw sweat on the third noble’s forehead. But the man eventually walked forward.
“With my greatest sincerity, I greet the Duke—”
“Yes, and farewell.”
The fourth came, then the fifth—all to be met with the same response. Shaden began to worry. It was probably rude to be so blunt, even against lesser nobles. He glanced at Eilae, who immediately bent down to whisper in his ear.
“They are not showing proper respect,” she told him. “And those who do not realize it do not deserve to be properly greeted.”
Well, he didn’t know what was wrong either. But the nobles didn’t seem to care anymore. The line increased as if they were all thinking, ‘This is what the greeting is like now for convenience.’ But before the sixth could come, someone else stepped in line. No one complained.
Medis, the second son of the Entamens, began to approach them. His face held a brilliant smile, not a haughty one, but one of confidence. Once before them, he nodded once with a hand on his chest, looking not at the older Duke, but directly at Shaden instead.
“I greet the honored guest, Shaden. My apologies for the lack of title—I do not know yours,” Medis turned his head, “and I greet the Duke of Louverie. My father sends his regards.”
“And I give you my greatest welcome,” Esel smiled. “You must be tired from the long journey. The fruits and wine of Louverie are yours.”
“I am honored.” Medis turned to Shaden again. “Many blessings be with you.”
“And with you as well,” Shaden replied.
“Who you are, I would bargain to know, but I should not keep everyone waiting.” Medis glanced sideways. “But I would like to speak with Enen if you would allow it.”
“Go in peace,” Esel nodded.
So Enen was the first to leave the area behind Shaden. The others would too, as was custom. One by one, more nobles approached, and Shaden tried his best to look calm and collected, muttering thanks after each greeting—which now addressed him first. It wasn’t long before the final lesser noble uttered his blessings, and soon, the dance would start.
The other nobles were busy conversing with each other, including the rest of the Veurbois. Businesses, politics, weather, marriage—he heard a whole lot of topics being tossed around. And he could relate to none. Shaden kept in a sigh.
A tap from Eilae made him come back to his senses. She was expressionless, but he could tell she was dissatisfied.
“You aren’t reading the room, are you?” she whispered, one hand between them.
Shaden bit his lip. “Oh, I sort of forgot.”
“It’s bad manners to nibble,” she reminded him. “Only by reading the room can you tell what people are truly thinking. What did you think of the nobles? And Medis?”
“The first few were inexperienced, I guess. Medis knew better. The rest were following his example.”
“You are half right. Two people may say hello, but one with respect, and the other with disdain.”
“And Medis?”
“He’s a gentleman,” Eilae sighed. “His curiosity is strong, but it’s a playful kind.”
“Huh.”
“Keep reading,” Eilae encouraged. “I know it’s uncomfortable. But it is necessary.”
Shaden nodded. Once more, the clouds of emotion began to surround him.
What he’d learned about emotions was that it was less about reading the physical body and more about reading someone’s mana. Their ‘spirit,’ the Veurbois had called it. The mind controlled the body, and someone’s spirit controlled the mind. To know the spirit was to know the essence of someone.
How he was able to use the magic without understanding this first was something he couldn’t explain. Perhaps it was his ‘shadow’ that assisted him, Esel had suggested. But he had always been able to replicate magic without much effort.
Eilae smiled. “Good. Now, remember to control yourself.”
“I’ve practiced my moves,” Shaden said.
“You know what I mean.”
“Let Shaden do what he wishes.”
They were interrupted by Esel who had returned after speaking with the lady from Rvenruck. Eilae couldn’t stop a frown from forming on her face.
“But he isn’t fully accustomed to everything,” Eilae said. “What if he makes a mistake?”
“Shaden can handle himself.”
“I can,” Shaden assured.
Esel looked at Eilae .“Then that is enough.”
Shaden noticed her hand curl into a ball and then relax. He felt a shift in her emotions but could not tell what exactly had changed, like trying to look at an object through a stained glass window. Then it cleared and he saw cheerfulness.
“Would you do us the honor of taking Eilae as your first partner?” Esel asked, slightly lowering his head. “As a father, I ask you to take her hand.”
“I would have no other person,” Shaden grinned. “Shall we go, Eilae? It’s time to show off our moves.”
“...yes,” Eilae softly laughed, taking his hand. “We did practice a lot.”
Esel beamed. He chuckled, pushing them forward. “Now, to the center, you will go. Music!”
At Esel’s command, the trumpets blew a short, clear melody. And as if everyone had been put under a spell, the nobles and servants moved away to manifest an empty, circular area directly below the shining chandelier. The voices vanished, and it was time for the main guest of the party to perform his first dance.
“You know, it’ll be my first dance too,” Eilae whispered.
A noble’s first dance was usually done on their tenth birthday, during which Eilae had been traveling with him. She’d missed many things by being with him. He hadn’t thought much about it before.
“I’ll make it the best one,” Shaden swore.
“Like we practiced.”
“Of course.”
All was quiet when they stood at the center, hands held together. Then with the entrance of the first note, they began their dance—and placed their steps on the hard ground.
The sound of their shoes echoed with the sound of music, each clack and tap aligned with a note, each movement gracefully following a measure. They twirled and tread across the floor, arms spread out, eyes on each other. While Eilae’s expression was that of a smiling doll, Shaden felt something sprout within her heart.
Nervousness. It quickly faded away when they moved closer for the next movement.
“Don’t talk, don’t make a sound with your lips: not a grunt of a sigh,” was something that had been drilled into them. The first dance had to be wordless. But again, he felt a wisp of dread seep out of Eilae, only to be covered with serenity.
He looked into her eyes. She looked back at him. He wanted to raise an eyebrow, ask her if she was nervous—but this was forbidden. But there were other ways to communicate. He worried for her.
She responded with a squeeze of her hand. Her emotions didn’t change. This he found strange. What seemed to emanate from her was apathy, not affirmation.
He was completely fine. After all, he could circulate all he wanted without others noticing. But Eilae was moving only physically with no mana to support her. She’d been fine during practice…and it was time for the second hardest move.
Something felt off with her weight, and he gripped her hand tightly as her body dangled on his arm, threatening to fall. In a millisecond, she regained her balance and moved on as if nothing had happened. He lowered her body to the ground, face an inch away from hers, carrying her with his arm.
For the first time, Eilae’s face twitched. A wisp of fear and relief emerged from her, this time lingering longer, then vanished. He pulled her back up, and they stepped away from each other. Eilae was nervous, he could feel it—and she was trying hard to hide it.
It wasn’t through circulating. Circulating changed emotion itself through will, and Eilae wasn’t circulating. It was through something he hadn’t learned before. He guessed that, if one could sense emotions, there would be ways to hide—even manipulate them.
You could’ve been truthful to me, Eilae. I wouldn’t have judged you.
He felt a small pang of frustration. Immediately, Eilae’s eyes twitched towards him, and he knew he had made a mistake. Her emotions were seeping out of her like leaking gas. It was being stopped over and over, but new holes formed where her strength weakened. Worry, fear, dread, panic, shame—anger.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Esel shift. Suddenly, Eilae was fine. All she felt was joy, happiness, and confidence. Her smile had brightened, and they continued their dance.
Shaden knew that the Veurbois could induce emotions. But as drastically as this? It wasn’t the gradual exposure of feelings they had conducted each morning, but a sudden replacement. What was stranger was the fact that Eilae was perfectly fine from then on, meticulously performing the most difficult move without much difficulty. They finished with a final twist, ending with a bow and curtsey. The immense clapping that followed proved that they had completed their dance in the greatest way possible.
Only then did Eilae allow herself to sigh. The music began once more, and the spacious area was filled with nobles willing to dance; Shaden and Eilae retreated to the side. The servants rushed to wipe Eilae’s sweat off and fan her—Shaden required nothing. His maid, Rose, had returned, so he asked her for a sweet drink.
“Are you alright?” Shaden asked.
“Of course I’m—I’m alright,” Eilae nearly snapped, keeping her composure. “I showed you something unsightly. It won’t happen again.”
“You did great! I doubt anyone—”
“Please, let everyone know by talking about it.”
An uncomfortable moment of silence passed between them, and Shaden tried to look elsewhere while sipping on his drink. Eilae’s emotions had returned to their calm and indifferent state, but her actions clearly said otherwise. Shaden kept in a sigh. Why couldn’t they simply laugh about it? Mistakes could happen, and it would become a fun memory. Besides, there had been no outward mistakes.
“Should I get you something?” he finally asked, deciding that it was up to the older person to act. “You don’t seem well.”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Shaden saw Eilae’s shoulders rise as she quietly inhaled, letting everything out in a prolonged sigh. Her eyes were closed, and she’d placed her hands together on her lap. When she opened her eyes, her smile had returned to her face.
“I’m sorry,” she said meekly. “I must’ve been nervous.”
“Mistakes can happen,” Shaden told her. “It’s no biggie.”
“No biggie?”
“It’s nothing serious,” Shaden corrected himself.
“I thought you would be disappointed,” Eilae muttered, sliding back her hair.
“Like I said, mistakes—”
He stopped himself. “Is it because of what I felt during the dance?”
“Yes. You’re quite transparent.”
Shaden furrowed his eyebrows. “That was for a different reason.”
“And that is?”
“I don’t think it’s appropriate to talk about it here,” Shaden replied. “Too many ears.”
“You’ve already spoken much.”
“Ah, well—I was worried.”
Eilae turned to him, looking slightly annoyed. “Remember what we were taught?” she began in a low whisper. “Everyone here is out to criticize. Your worries will only be subject to scorn. There’s a reason why my father or siblings aren’t here congratulating us. Or rebuking me. Because you never know who is watching or listening. Even this party is a charade of masks. Didn’t you see what kinds of emotions they were emanating?”
She motioned with her head.
“I…was keeping an eye out.” Shaden scratched his cheek. “Sorry, I kinda missed them.”
Eilae pursed her lips. She turned away from him, facing the crowd.
Shaden sighed. “I was looking at you.”
He wanted to complain about her hiding her emotions. Or how Esel had seemingly brainwashed her. How things seemed slightly off—though he couldn’t place a finger on it. But he crossed his arms and leaned back. Remember that it was bad manners, he straightened his back—
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
He caught a strange emotion coming from Eilae, a sliver of something warm. It vanished instantly.
“Hmph, thank you for worrying,” she muttered. She slapped her cheeks gently with her fingers. “The song is ending. We’ve had our moment of rest. People will come to ask me for a dance, and you will need to do the same.”
“So…just ask whoever is the prettiest?”
Eilae let out a giggle. “If you can’t decide, you can ask Nerr or Eyla. But be quick; many will come to them. And don’t rush—remember to ask with your eyes.”
“Right. Like we practiced.”
Shaden took in a deep breath and got up from his chair. Being the main guest of the party, he would have to be outgoing to not let the Veurbois lose face. Esel had told him not to worry about it. But in a sense, the mood of the party rested on him and how well he could carry himself. He was the face of the celebration, was he not? Already, he felt a hundred eyes scrutinizing him. Yet they would keep their distance until a few offered themselves as scapegoats to feel him out—or until he offered himself to them.
Going to either Nerr or Eyla would have been the safe choice, but he didn’t head for them right away. For he’d noticed someone staring at him quite intently, lurking nearby as if waiting. Well, not exactly lurking. They looked nervous as well, often glancing towards their sibling. He recognized them. Eilae had made very sure to make him memorize certain people.
Without much thought, he strode across the room straight towards the individual. Besides the Veurbois, the lady was the youngest out of the Great Families who were present. It seemed appropriate to ask her, especially when she seemed to be waiting for him.
He reached his hand out and bowed in a gentlemanly manner. “Would you care for a dance?” Shaden asked—none other than Lady Cona of Tralan.
The young lady seemed surprised, silently gasping with a gentle hand over her mouth, but she sheepishly accepted his hand, blushing. “I would,” she replied, making eye contact with a smile.
Around him, he sensed a series of muffled gasps that drew more eyes towards them. In the corner of his eye, he saw Eyla’s shocked face. It was immediately replaced with a smile. Low murmurs filled the room. But they quickly died when the conductor raised his baton.
“Could I ask for the reason why you invited me to dance?” Lady Cona asked, glancing at him.
“I noticed you looking in my direction,” Shaden replied.
Thankfully, Lady Cona was just a little taller than him. He could stare up at her without looking like a child. She pursed her lips, undoing the gesture just as her eyes fluttered elsewhere for a millisecond. Towards her brother—Lord Bathar. He didn’t seem to care.
“I, uh, yes!” she answered with a shake of her head. “I wanted to see you closely. Everyone was talking about how…beautiful you looked.”
Shaden blinked. He knew he was handsome (by looking at the mirror) but rarely had people commented about it. Well…looking back, he’d been too young when with the Jakhar Kishaks, and the soldiers of Fort Avagal would never have complimented him. Then again, Beila and her three friends (Mila, Tina, and Loyra) had always called him cute. Alas, staying near Prince Boren would have diminished his presence.
He smiled. He felt a jolt of confidence rise within him.
“Is that so?” he said. “What do you think?”
Lady Cona struggled to stifle a giggle, but her smile broke through. “Could I ask how old you are?”
“Thirteen,” Shaden replied. He already knew her age—nineteen.
“I was thinking along those lines,” she nodded. “You dance well. I’ve never been this comfortable.”
“You flatter me. You’re also graceful yourself.”
“It’s one of my talents. Might I ask how long you’ve practiced?”
“A few months.”
“That little?” Lady Cona gasped. “Don’t jest—you dance better than my brother.”
“Perhaps I have a talent for dancing also.”
“Not perhaps, but surely,” she gigged. “I suppose you would have many talents.”
“Some useful, others not so much.” Shaden forced a grin. “Now then, how will we proceed with the next part? The easy way, or the difficult?”
“I’m afraid that I may be a burden,” Lady Cona told him. “You have tender limbs.”
“Would you trust me?”
“Confidence will lead to the embarrassment of the both of us,” Lady Cona said worryingly. “You are young, and the easy way will suit you.”
“The embarrassment will be on me,” Shaden assured. “You only need to close your eyes.”
“The risk is—”
“Relax your body.”
Invisible threads of mana seeped out of Shaden’s body, wrapping around Lady Cona’s limbs. She twitched, her eyes seeking help from her brother once more. Shaden pasted an unchanging smile onto his lips.
The young lady’s head nearly touched the ground as Shaden’s arms held her body in place. There wasn’t the slightest tremble. He smoothly brought her back up, doing a slow double spin, completely carrying her in his arms. His legs were sturdy and his feet were firmly planted. Bringing her back up, he gently placed her down, and her feet began to follow his lead.
Lady Cona’s eyes met his. They were bright with astonishment, but he knew she was more shocked than anything. And slightly frightened. Perhaps he’d been too forceful.
“How did you do that?” she whispered once they were nearer. “My body—did you do something to it?”
Shaden blinked. Ah, that’s why.
He sensed something else. The feeling of uneasiness and a hint of focus. He remembered Eilae’s words.
“Think twice before admitting something. Words can always be used against you.”
“Hardly,” Shaden replied. “You are simply an excellent dancer.”
“Is that so?”
Shaden smiled. While he wasn’t panicking, he knew he had made a small mistake.
Using magic on others during a gathering such as this was a big no-no. Any use of magic would be frowned upon. And yet, he couldn’t help but giggle a little inside. No matter what he did with his mana, no one would be able to sense it. The fact that no one was reacting was proof of this.
Also, the rules forbade magic, not mana itself. Even now, people exuded mana, hence letting him read emotions more easily. While the pseudo-official list of manners stated that usage of mana was ungentlemanly, it seemed to be more common than he had expected. Maybe consciously controlling it was rude?
Noble manners are tiring…
“In fact, the second best,” Shaden continued, snapping back to reality.
Lady Cona raised an eyebrow. “And who is the first?”
“A teacher, and a friend,” Shaden smiled, spotting Eilae still resting on a couch.
“I see. Am I not your second partner? And I was quite confident in my dancing…”
“I’ve had other lessons before,” Shaden replied. Lady Cona watched him for a second before smiling.
“Of course,” she said. “Might I know her name?”
Amusement, slight discomfort, and a hint of uneasiness. And a strong feeling of displeasure. His instincts told him to keep his mouth shut.
“I’m sure she wouldn’t want her name to be revealed,” Shaden said.
“And you say that she dances better than me.”
“In my limited opinion, I would say so, Lady Cona,” Shaden said robotically. “I am too inexperienced to make comparisons.”
“Inexperienced?”
Lady Cona furrowed her brows, and it didn't take magic to see that she didn't believe him. Shaden laughed awkwardly.
“I meant no disrespect. This is my first dance, after all.”
“Yes, it is.”
Her expression softened, and she giggled. The music was coming to a halt.
“I'd hope to dance with you again,” Lady Cona sheepishly muttered. “Will you remain with the Veurbois?”
“For the time being. If the opportunity arises, I would love to visit Tralogan. I've heard that its markets hold everything from the world.”
Lady Cona's eyes lit up. “Ah! Then I must invite you to a ball. If—if my father allows it.”
They exchanged a brief farewell. The guests bowed and curtsied with the end of the music, and Shaden separated from Lady Cona to take a break and drink something. It wasn’t long before Eyla scurried over to him with wide eyes, hands balled before her. Gripping the edge of his cloth, she tugged him to the side.
“How did it go?” she asked.
“Fine, I guess?”
“She didn't say anything terrible?”
“Not really. She seemed like a nice person.”
“She is,” Eyla agreed, “but she's very serious when it comes to dancing.”
“Really?”
“She’s the youngest to receive the title of Fairy Steps in the last century. I suppose you wouldn't know,” Eyla sighed. “Did you make any mistakes?”
Shaden shrugged. “Not that I know of?”
“I suppose only time will tell,” Eyla muttered. “The last time someone danced with her…I think I never heard about him joining any balls again.”
“So…should I be worried?”
“She seemed to be in a good mood,” Eyla decided, putting out a hand. “Now, I’ve never danced with you before. And I’ve been waiting. Will you make me ask?”
Shaden snorted. There wasn’t anyone who could match her bubbly personality. “Yes, yes, I have kept you waiting, my lady,” he sighed, taking her hand. “Shall we dance?”
Eyla, as he soon found out, wasn’t much of a graceful dancer. He dodged her steps before she stepped on him, trying to make up for her inexperience.
“Aren’t I talented?” she beamed.
She was having the most fun. Shaden couldn’t help but give her a little pat on her head.
“Hey!” she complained, pouting. “I’m a lady, you know.”
“Of course,” he smiled. “Now, try not to step on other people.”
“I’m not going to dance with anyone else,” Eyla snorted. Giving him an annoyed stare, she soon disappeared into the crowd, leaving him behind. Deciding it was proper to dance with everyone, he quickly found Nerr and waited for her to finish her dance. He received longing stares from around but ignored them. There were nastier emotions than admiration.
“It’s a little sickening,” Shaden confessed to Nerr after they’d begun dancing. He motioned with his head. “These emotions.”
“Everyone isn’t as good as they look, or as bad,” Nerr whispered to him. “It can get a little overwhelming at times, but remember that emotions aren’t everything a person is. Think of it as an expression of the soul. If I make an angry face, would that mean that I am angry?”
“Not always. You could be faking it.”
Nerr nodded. “While the ripple of emotions is harder to hide, sometimes it can be willed, hidden, or induced. Like when we brought out your emotions.”
“So all of these people…they’re being induced?”
“Not by us, but the atmosphere. Balls are, after all, not as pure as I’d like them to be.”
Shaden glanced around the room. Nobles laughing, servants moving, people drinking and eating, talking, many with forced expressions, bored ones, tired ones, excited ones, energetic ones—but all looked pristine outwardly.
“There are some people that are difficult to read,” Shaden noticed. “Like those from House Pailar.”
“Lord Beridas and Lady Enis,” Nerr replied. “Secrecy and mana control is their expertise.”
“There’s also…Lady Veila.”
“The betrothed of the Prince.” She shivered slightly. “Little matched in beauty and power. Her presence is…overwhelming. You understand that your party is of little significance to the Empire.”
Shaden nodded.
“Yet, for such prominent figures to come…I am worried about the things that will happen next. Shall I be truthful, Shaden?” Nerr’s eyes narrowed. “I worry that my father’s decision to send invitations was a mistake. Are you not supposed to be hidden, after all? Why reveal you to all?”
“I…am not sure either,” Shaden said.
“But my father has always been right,” she muttered. “Please, only don’t ruin us.”
Even while circulating, Shaden could feel the weight of her words. He had to remember that here, before all of these nobles, a single word could result in a disaster. In all honesty, to the Veurbois, he was…a liability. How could he not be? What everyone here had learned all their lives, he’d learned in a few months.
“I will be careful,” Shaden promised. Nerr gave him a soft smile.
It quickly vanished. “There seems to be a commotion,” she noticed. “Oh, it’s Eyla…”
Through the buzz of the room, Shaden caught sight of the little girl who was crossing her arms, being confronted by a skinny but well-dressed man; the noise was inaudible, but the man’s reddening ears and frantic hands made it clear that he was frustrated.
Before Shaden could blink, Nerr was trodding through the room towards her sister. He followed her, avoiding the people who were joining in on the commotion. He noticed who the skinny man was.
Lord Goita…of House Dofleur. One of the Great Families. Then again, no one else would dare to make a commotion besides the greater nobles.
“Like I said before, I am not going to dance with anyone,” Eyla snapped. “And responding to your previous statement, it’s not unsightly for me to have no partner.”
“Now you are distorting my words,” Goita complained. “I was merely worrying for you.”
Eyla turned her face away. “I don’t need your worries, Lord Goita. Please, find another partner.”
The color in Lord Goita’s face rose as his eyes shifted left and right to the nobles around them. Deep creases formed around his eyes and mouth, and he opened his hands in a wide motion for all to see.
“Is this the extent of the Veurbois’s hospitality?” He demanded. “I have traveled far only to be humiliated. Give me a proper reason, and I will be satisfied.”
Though Eyla was keeping a straight face, Shaden could sense her rising panic. She was as new to this as he was. What could an eleven-year-old do but panic? To his relief, it was Nerr who intercepted them, smoothly coming in between her sister and the angry lord.
“She is, like all children, inexperienced,” Nerr answered instead, concealing her sister behind her dress. “Forgive her for wishing to join the birthday celebration of a friend. Do not think much of it.”
“You cannot make such excuses here,” Goita sneered. “Such acts taint the honor of the Great Houses!”
Murmurs of agreement arose. Others of pity and scorn. Rising feelings of disdain were around them. Shaden tightened his fists. A soft hand touched his shoulder.
“Don’t interfere. We will take care of this,” Eilae whispered. Shaden nodded.
“A lady has every right to refuse a dance,” Nerr said calmly. “To judge her decision is unbecoming.”
Goita threw his head back. “Ah, how you twist your words. Though the third son, I am here on my father’s behalf. Surely you would know the meaning behind this. It is the Sterdraer’s command for the Great Houses to exist in harmony, and yet—your younger sister thinks little of it.”
Shaden saw Eilae’s hand tighten. From the other parts of the room, Shaden felt Enen and Lan approaching them.
“I thought no such thing!” Eyla complained before being glared at by her sister. Nerr looked at the servants, and immediately they came forward, surrounding Eyla.
“She will be reprimanded,” Nerr promised as her sister was led out of the great hall. “In the meantime, do enjoy the party. My hand is open to a dance.”
“You would dishonor me again by asking me,” Goita said. “No, I will ask.”
Shaden’s eyes widened when Goita looked at him. No…not him. The lord had his eyes on Eilae.
“Lady Eilae, would you care for a dance? Surely you won’t be as cold as your sister. Or perhaps you are…still not ready?”
An audible snicker struck Shaden’s ear. Then, murmurs. Goita’s face suddenly looked much more punchable.
“What could you possibly mean by that?” Shaden interjected before Eilae could stop him.
“Oh…you don’t know?” Goita tilted his head. “It’s a rather famous rumor…”
“A baseless rumor,” Eilae asserted, stepping forward. “I will humor you.”
No, she will not. As much as he wanted to say those words, they would not come out of his mouth. He did not want to humiliate the Veurbois. Their glances from throughout the room were telling him to not worry. They would take care of this.
“Now, no need to be so serious!” Enen laughed, placing a hand on his shoulder. Immediately, he felt calmer. The people around them seemed to soften as well. Enen waved his hand, and in a moment, servants were elegantly moving about with cups and platters on their hands.
“Let’s not be too sour with traditions and ordeals,” Enen continued, holding up a cup. “As my father has declared, today is a day of celebration. Let us toast to the peace of the Empire, for it is that peace which allows us to gather here today—and to Shaden, who has allowed this occasion to happen.”
“A toast, a toast!” Medis agreed, holding up his cup. The other nobles followed as well, including Goita himself and the other greater nobles. Shaden also held up the cup that had been given to him—a glass full of crimson wine.
Enen drank, and the others followed. The music began, and there was laughter and giggling once more. More drinks and snacks were brought out, and the party continued as if there had been no incident at all.
Shaden stared at Lord Goita as he danced with Eilae. She was putting on a smile for him, and it was clear that the man was charmed by it. His hand seemed to go a little lower; his other hand gripped Eilae’s a little tighter. Eilae showed no sign of discomfort; she merely continued through the dance, displaying the same face she showed everyone.
Shaden never turned his eyes away. Even after the dance had ended, his eyes were glued on Lord Goita, unmoving for a few seconds before turning back to Eilae as he approached her.
“Are you okay?” he asked quietly once he was beside her. “Did he do anything strange?”
“No. Nothing out of the ordinary,” Eilae muttered. “He was a bit clingy.”
“I could punch him for that.”
Eilae raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“No one would notice,” Shaden shrugged. “Or trip him. Make him splatter his drink all over himself.”
“I think people would notice the irregularity, especially with them here.” Eilae motioned with her head. “But I appreciate the thought.”
She was quiet for a moment afterward.
Shaden’s curiosity won over. “The rumor Goita talked about. Did something happen?”
Eilae looked at him—she sighed. “It’s not of much importance. Remember how I spent my tenth birthday with you?”
He nodded. “My mom made us food. We went around the city.”
“That was my eleventh.”
Shaden paused. “What? I thought that—oh. Oh, right. We…missed your tenth birthday.”
“No matter. But for the nobility, the tenth birthday is when one first displays themselves to the public. If they are not ready, then the eleventh. I was late two years.”
Something numbed in Shaden’s head. “It’s…because of me?”
“It’s what our family decided,” Eilae said. “I, being as I am, successfully presented myself—but there are those who still speak without knowing.”
“What do they say the reason was?”
“Would you make me say it, Shaden? I could.”
Shaden saw the coldness in Eilae’s eyes. His curiosity had overstepped the line.
“I’d rather you not know,” she continued. “There’s no limit to how much these nobles can taint their mouths with lies. For a lady such as I, there is nothing to do but wait and prove myself worthy of the Veurbois name. As for our honor, time will show the scandalmongers that their blabbering resulted in their ruin.”
Her subtle anger made him pause. “Right. You’ve told me before. Why use poison and assassins when you can make them destroy themselves?”
“Did…I say that?”
“When we first met,” Shaden recalled.
“I was immature,” Eilae breathed. “But I do admit…sometimes it seems so slow. We would be the first to die of frustration without our gifts.”
Shaden thought for a moment. His eyes were staring at nothing, but his ears were focused on the man who had caused all of this. He was talking about how doll-like Eilae had been, and that he’d be able to wed her despite the rumors surrounding her. Adding oil to the flame, Shaden raged. Who did he think he was?
“Shaden?”
He noticed Eilae’s fingers on his shoulder. He’d let his anger slip.
“By tomorrow,” Shaden promised, “the gossip will cease.”
Eilae made a funny face. “What do you mean by that?”
“I’ll figure it out,” he laughed.
He looked at Lord Goita. The young noble had gained confidence, laughing and making small talk with the others while holding a drink in his hand. The merry glow in his face seemed to mock them. Shaden was tempted to make the glass burst.
Yes, laugh away, he smirked. Laugh, for soon, he would no longer.
“Shaden.”
He turned to Eilae. She was staring him in the eye.
“Whatever you do, don’t do it half-heartedly,” Eilae muttered. “A petty threat is worse than silence.”
Her expression was like ice. Shaden nodded once.
“I promise.”
The rest of the party went by without incident, and one by one, the greater nobles began to leave. No one spoke much to Shaden; while they were curious, after discovering that he was a no-namer that the Veurbois had suddenly presented, they lost interest quickly. Well, it was better for him that way. Shaden had never liked crowds. There was also the feast to prepare for the next day, which meant the party would have to conclude sooner or later.
The lesser nobles soon dispersed after the greater nobles did, some of them promising to return the next day for the feast. Shaden didn’t know any of them except the greater nobles, so he simply nodded in thanks, bidding them farewell. Soon, he dismissed himself, ate dinner with the family, shared some words, took a bath, and changed into comfortable clothes.
“How was the party, Lord Shaden?” Rose asked as she tucked him in. “Did you have fun?”
“It was fabulous,” Shaden smiled. “Also, please call me Shaden.”
The maid simply smiled while turning off the lights. “Sweet dreams, Shaden,” she whispered as she softly closed the door behind her.
Shaden lay in bed for a while, keeping himself awake while thinking about a plan. What was the worst he could do with his abilities? Some things seemed too violent. But he had to keep the promise to Eilae. Suddenly, he remembered something.
The princesses. He’d forgotten to apologize to them.
“Ah…darn it,” he muttered, hoping that nothing serious would happen. He had to clear the misunderstanding before it broke out into a conflict.
For now, he would clear Eilae’s name.
No one in the mansion noticed someone flying out of the windows, and the guards who kept watch barely heard a rustle, much less a groan. This was the city that was considered the safest in the Empire. From the greatest knight to the lowest servant, all they saw was the glimmer of the stars and the faint city lights.
All but one noble.