Chapter 2
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The day of the ball had finally arrived, and morning light filtered through the elegant curtains of Ozias’s room, casting gentle patterns on the floor. He hesitated, staring out the window at the vibrant lights illuminating the palace grounds. He had never experienced anything like this in his entire life; the thought of attending the ball filled him with a mix of curiosity and trepidation. Just as he began to lose himself in daydreams, a sharp knock on the door pulled him back to reality.
“Come in,” he called, his voice steady despite the flutter of anxiety in his chest.
The door opened, revealing Mr. Throne, his devoted butler, who entered with a box cradled in his arms. With a respectful bow, he set the box on the polished table beside Ozias.
“Good morning, my lord. I trust you are preparing for the evening’s festivities?” Mr. Throne inquired, his tone both formal and encouraging.
“I must confess, I would prefer to avoid it altogether,” Ozias replied, a hint of resignation in his voice. “The thought of attending this ball does not fill me with joy.”
“Regrettably, my lord, attendance is not optional,” the butler stated firmly, though his eyes held a glimmer of understanding. “It is imperative that you join your family this evening.”
Ozias sighed deeply, knowing the truth in Mr. Throne's words. “I am aware of that... but—”
“Your preparations should commence at six o'clock, as you will be departing for the palace with your family at seven,” Mr. Throne interjected, his voice leaving no room for argument.
“Ah... I shall keep that in mind,” Ozias replied, his resolve softening. He glanced at the box, curiosity piqued despite his reluctance. “What is this?”
Mr. Throne’s lips curled into a faint smile. “It is a suit, my lord. A fitting attire for the occasion. I believe it will serve you well this evening.”
“Who is it from?” Ozias inquired, his brow furrowing slightly.
“It is a gift from your father,” the butler replied, his tone respectful.
Ozias’s heart stirred at this revelation, a warmth spreading through him that felt foreign yet comforting. “Please, convey my gratitude to him,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper as Mr. Throne turned to leave.
“Of course, my lord,” Mr. Throne answered with a bow before exiting the room.
Once alone, Ozias approached the box, lifting the lid with a mixture of trepidation and curiosity. Inside lay the suit—a rich, deep blue fabric that shimmered subtly under the light. He reached out, running his fingers over the smooth material, feeling a strange sense of connection to his father through this simple gift.
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As he gazed at the suit, a swirl of emotions flooded him, yet he found it difficult to identify what he felt. There was a tinge of gratitude mixed with lingering confusion and uncertainty. It was a small kindness in a world where he often felt invisible, and the thought stirred something within him, a flicker of hope that perhaps he was not entirely forgotten.
In that moment, he stood there, silently contemplating the significance of the suit—a reminder that even amidst the shadows of his loneliness, he was still a part of this family, even if he felt like an outsider.
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The time had come, and Ozias stood before the ornate mirror in his room, adjusting the deep blue suit that felt both foreign and comforting against his skin. He took a moment to appreciate the reflection staring back at him. The fabric hugged his frame perfectly, emphasizing his slender build, while the rich color contrasted beautifully with his flame-colored queen opal eyes, which seemed to shimmer with an inner light. Despite the lingering shadows of his sickness, he exuded an ethereal charm that drew attention.
Once he was satisfied with his appearance, Ozias made his way to the living room, where he would await his family. The grand space was adorned with elegant decorations, yet he felt an overwhelming sense of isolation amidst the beauty. He took a deep breath, reminding himself of the importance of this night and his desire to be included.
As he stood by the window, gazing out at the evening sky, the sound of footsteps echoed down the staircase. Eileen, dressed in an exquisite gown that hugged her figure, descended with an air of confidence. Her eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and something more elusive as she caught sight of her brother.
“Aren't you excited?” she called out, her tone bright and cheerful, yet with an undertone that hinted at mockery. “The first ball for you...”
Ozias chose not to respond to her veiled sarcasm. Instead, he focused on the beauty of her gown, which, though striking, was dimmed by the glow of his own presence. He met her gaze with calm composure and replied, “Your dress is quite lovely this evening, Eileen. It suits you well.”
Eileen's smile faltered for just a moment, as if she had expected a different reaction, but she quickly masked her surprise with a practiced expression. “Thank you, dear brother,” she replied, her voice smooth as silk. “I suppose you clean up well, too.”
While her words seemed gracious on the surface, the subtle glint in her eyes revealed the true meaning behind them. Ozias felt the weight of her gaze, yet he stood his ground, refusing to let her veiled jibes affect him. He was here, dressed for the occasion, and he would not allow her mockery to diminish his spirit.
Just then, the heavy doors of the living room opened, and their parents entered, both exuding an air of authority and elegance. The Duchess, equally graceful, wore a gown that flowed like water, its intricate embroidery glimmering in the light.
“Eileen, my dear,” the Duchess chimed in, her voice melodic. “You look marvelous. We shall leave shortly. Gather your things and prepare to depart.”
As the Duchess and Eileen began to discuss their plans for the evening, Ozias stood in the background, feeling the familiar weight of neglect. He had grown accustomed to being overshadowed, often invisible in the eyes of his family, and tonight was no different.
Though he longed for a moment of acknowledgment, he reminded himself that merely attending this ball was a step toward the life he desired. As they gathered near the door, he took a moment to steady himself, knowing that this night would be a pivotal moment in his life—a chance to step into a world he had only observed from the shadows.