The party went smoothly. Ravina had a better time than she expected. Many people asked her to dance, including Earl, and she only managed to step on Earl’s toes three times—by accident, of course. Still, thanks to her partners knowing how to dance, she was able to enjoy herself. The food was good, the music lively, and the atmosphere delightful. Just as she was considering heading home for the night, a servant approached and informed her that the owner of the manor wished to speak with her.

She followed him out of the banquet hall and into a private room, where an older, portly man awaited her. He was dressed in a fine bourbon-colored suit that fit him well, cleverly tailored to not only hide but also complement his weight. With a dark red, ornate walking stick and a glint in his ember-like eyes, he resembled a minor villain from a popular play that had recently debuted.

"Welcome, welcome, Lady Ravinshield," he said, tipping his head politely as he gestured toward a chair. "Please, take a seat. Once I discovered your identity, I was thrilled at the chance to make your acquaintance."

"You... know who I am?" Ravina asked, her heart skipping a beat, unsettled by his use of the Ravinshield name instead of her alias, Emily, from school.

"Of course," he replied, his smile widening ever so slightly, his voice smooth and self-assured. "I make a living knowing things others would rather keep hidden. But that’s a secret I reserve for my valued clients—a select few I’d be delighted to see you join."

"I see." So he was an information broker. That explained the look in his eye—the way he seemed to be sizing her up, evaluating her worth. "I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage," she suggested, trying to keep her voice steady.

"Ah, of course!" His smile widened as he tapped his walking stick against the floor, rising to his feet with an exaggerated flourish. "Allow me to introduce myself properly. I am the fourth Baron, overseeing the City of Education under the Count of Gogisch. Baron Maklerin—but Lance, to my friends."

"Alright, Baron Maklerin," she replied, watching his every move.

"Lance, please," he insisted, his eyes gleaming with a calculated warmth. "I hope to be of great service to you and the Ravinshield House. In fact, I already have several things that may interest you—free of charge, of course. After all, you should know what I can offer." His smile never faltered, the confidence almost unnerving. "They're already on their way to Crook-Beak Manor as we speak." He added, sitting back down.

"I see, thank you." Ravina slowly rose to her feet, but the baron gently stopped her with a raised hand.

"If you don't mind, I was hoping to introduce you to my third son. Please, don't feel any pressure—it's just the whim of a father looking out for his youngest," the baron said, nodding thoughtfully to himself as Ravina tilted her head slightly. The Baron continued. "He's a good kid, a bit daft at times, but quite intelligent. I think the two of you might get along well, considering you're around the same age—ah, here he is now."

As if on cue, the door to the room opened, and a young man stepped inside.

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He was undeniably handsome, standing tall with an effortless grace. His lean frame moved with a natural elegance, and his medium-length hair—an unusual shade of pearl copper—fell in soft waves, catching the light just so. His eyes—piercing, turquoise-green orbs—commanded attention, holding a quiet intensity. Dressed impeccably in fine, tailored garments, from the waistcoat to the polished boots, his entire appearance radiated wealth and refinement. It was clear that this meeting was anything but casual; it had been carefully planned.

It would have been quite annoying but he did have quite the set of piercing green eyes.

He bowed elegantly, his movements precise and fluid. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Ravenshield. Or should I say Miss Grant?" His voice, deep and rich, washed over her like velvet, pulling her into its warmth

Before she could stop herself, a flush crept up her neck and warmed her cheeks. She cleared her throat, trying to maintain her composure. "Ahem, well... I suppose Miss Grant will do while we’re in the city. Af-after all, it's by royal decree." Inside, she cursed herself for the slight tremor in her voice

He smiled, a slow, knowing smile that made her heart skip a beat. "It’s only for the commoners, truly," he said, his tone soft but playful. “Who wouldn't know the famed name of Ravenshield?” With practiced grace, he strode over to the tea trolley and fixed a single cup as he spoke. He added a sugar cube and a dash of milk, his movements nimble and elegant. As he approached, he swirled the tea gently before placing the cup before her, replacing the untouched one the maid had poured earlier. "As for myself, I am but the third son of Baron Maklerin—Rupert Maklerin."

"Thank you," she managed to say, trying to regain her composure. "It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance." She carefully lifted the tea to her lips, determined not to let her actions appear rushed. Though steam rose gently from the cup, the tea felt cool against her lips. She neither tasted its flavor nor felt its warmth. "It’s... delicious," she murmured

An echoing laughter drew their attention back to Baron Maklerin. "Well, it seems my fears were in vain!" he cheered, rising to his feet with a satisfied smile. "I will leave you two to your conversation. Thank you again, my lady. I hope to hear from you soon." With that, the baron gave a polite bow and left the room, leaving his son to take his place.

"I hope the good baron didn’t say anything untoward," Rupert offered with a slight chuckle as he settled into the chair his father had vacated.

"Not at all," Ravina replied quickly, though her pulse quickened. "It was just a little surprising, him knowing who I was," she admitted, the words slipping out more naturally than she’d intended.

"Yes, well. The Baron has a habit of sticking his nose in everyone’s business," he answered, his tone light but not without a hint of fondness.

"So he mentioned," Ravina responded, managing a small smile.

Rupert leaned forward slightly, curiosity glinting in his eyes. "So, tell me... what brings the famed Ravinshield Daughter to a celebration at a magic academy? I heard rumors you were involved with one of the students."

"Not at all! Ahem, what I mean to say is... I’ve come here as his date. It’s quite silly, really," Ravina said, stumbling over her words. "He told his mother he was dating someone because she was worried about him... Oh, that's not cowardly at all, is it?" She bit her lip, realizing how it sounded.

Rupert smiled at her rambling, his eyes warm with amusement. "Perhaps not," he suggested lightly, his voice filled with an understanding tone.

For a while, their conversation flowed easily, touching on a variety of topics—school, the academy, and even lighthearted subjects like her favorite foods and the kind of clothes she preferred to wear. It flowed as naturally to them as breathing and suddenly it felt like a shame that the party was ending.