The couples began to disperse, some heading toward the refreshment tables, others lingering at the floor's edge in anticipation of the next set.

Then Duke Rithvale stepped forward onto the marble dais and raised his crystal goblet high above the crowd.

Every conversation died mid-sentence. Heads turned toward the platform where the Duke stood, his presence commanding absolute attention.

"On this most delightful day," his voice resonated through the vast space, "we celebrate not only my beloved daughter's birthday, but also the strengthening of bonds between noble houses."

Verelia remained perfectly still at her table beside her mother, though her fingers tightened imperceptibly on the stem of her goblet.

The Duke paused deliberately, his gaze moving over the assembled nobles like a hawk surveying prey. Then his eyes settled, unmistakably, on where Alaric stood.

The Duke's lips curved into a smile.

"It is with great joy that I announce the engagement of my daughter, Verelia Rithvale... to Alaric Glimor, heir of House Glimor."

The goblet in Alaric's hand stopped halfway to his lips.

What the fuck?

For perhaps the first time all evening, his composure cracked.

The wine glass hovered in midair as he stared at the Duke, eyes wide with genuine shock.

The ballroom erupted.

"Engaged?!" someone gasped behind him.

"To House Glimor, but wasn't he just recently adopted?"

"The boy who just destroyed Renard Valtair?"

Marcus's voice cut through nearby, "This has to be a joke. Him? With Lady Verelia?"

Across the ballroom, Alaric's gaze snapped to Selene, who sat at her table with perfect poise, not a hint of surprise on her face. She raised her goblet slightly when their eyes met, slowly, but deliberately, she smiled.

You knew. You fucking knew and didn't tell me.

Meanwhile at few a few steps away from where Alaric stood.

Livia's eyes were widened and the wine glass slipped from nerveless fingers.

CRASH!

The crystal shattered against marble, red wine spreading like blood across the pristine floor.

She didn't even notice. Her face had gone chalk-white, grey eyes fixed on the Duke as if she could will the words back into his mouth.

"Livy—" Cordelia reached for her, but Livia stood frozen.

"Engaged?" she whispered, the word barely audible.

Eleanor's hand covered her mouth. "Oh no. Oh, Livy..."

Catherine looked between her friend and where Alaric stood, still holding his wine glass like he'd forgotten what it was for.

"Maybe it's... maybe it's just political? Arranged marriages don't always—"

"Stop." Livia's voice came out strangled. "Just... stop."

Across the room, Viviane had gone rigid, her face cycling through rage then shock.

A young man nearby, whistled low. "Well. That explains why he was hovering around the refreshments. Keeping an eye on his competition."

"Competition?" his friend scoffed. "He just got handed the prize without even trying."

"Furthermore," Duke Rithvale continued, his voice cutting through the chaos, "the formal ceremony will take place at summer's end. I trust you'll all join us in celebrating this union."

He raised his goblet higher. "To the future of our houses!"

Some nobles raised their glasses reflexively.

Others seemed too stunned to move. A few, mainly the young lords who'd been courting Verelia, looked ready to storm out entirely.

Alaric finally lowered his wine glass, setting it on the table with deliberate care. His face had smoothed back into that lazy mask, but his jaw was tight.

He started walking toward Selene's table, cutting through the crowd that parted before him, some out of respect, others from uncertainty about what the newly announced fiancé might do.

"Dear Aunt," he said when he reached her, his voice carrying just enough edge that nearby nobles took a step back. "A word?"

She smiled up at him, entirely too pleased with herself.

"Of course, my dear. Though perhaps after we offer our thanks to the Duke? It would be terribly rude not to acknowledge such a generous announcement."

His eyes narrowed. "Generous. Right."

Duke Rithvale raised his hand, and the whispers died like candle flames snuffed out.

"And what better way," he continued, that satisfied smile never wavering, "to celebrate such joyous news than for the betrothed to share the floor together?"

The nobles still lingering on the dance floor suddenly found reasons to be elsewhere, they began drifting toward the edges like leaves before a storm.

The orchestra rustled through their sheets, preparing something appropriately formal, and unavoidable.

Alaric exhaled, not quite a sigh, but more like releasing pressure before it could explode.

His shoulders rolled once, twice, working out a tension that had nothing to do with sore muscles and everything to do with the trap that had just snapped shut around him.

The entire ballroom held its breath, waiting to see what would happen when the newly engaged couple came face to face.

Alaric straightened his doublet with one sharp tug and began walking.

His footsteps echoed against marble as he crossed toward the platform where Verelia sat.

The crowd parted. He could feel their stares like physical weight, some curious, some envious, some calculating what this meant for their own ambitions.

Verelia hadn't moved from her seat beside her mother. Her posture remained perfect, hands folded in her lap. But he caught it, just for a heartbeat, the way her fingers pressed together a fraction tighter as he approached.

The Duchess beside her looked ready to shatter her wine goblet.

Alaric stopped before their table and offered a bow, not deep, but respectful enough for the circumstances.

"Lady Verelia." His voice carried just far enough for the nearest gawkers to hear.

"Would you honor me with this dance?"

The question hung between them like a drawn blade.

Verelia's ice-blue eyes met his, winter sky meeting crimson sunset.

For three heartbeats, neither moved, his head low, her expression unreadable.

The tiara of white gold and sapphires caught the chandelier light as she inclined her head not a nod of acceptance, but simple acknowledgment that she'd heard him.

Then, with graceful movement, she rose from her chair.

The silver of her gown caught the light as she descended from the platform, each step measured and controlled.

She didn't take his offered hand immediately. Instead, she stopped just close enough that he could hear her when she spoke quietly.

"It seems we have little choice in the matter."

She said, her voice carrying that same cool politeness she'd used with every suitor tonight. No warmer, even for her newly announced fiancé than for the others.

"Seems that way," he agreed, matching her volume.

Only then did she place her hand in his, light as snow, cool to the touch.

The orchestra struck the first notes.

They took their positions at the center of the floor. Alone. Every other couple had retreated to watch the show.

Alaric's hand settled at her waist, maintaining the exact distance propriety demanded. Her hand rested on his shoulder like it might on a statue, present but detached.

"Shall we give them what they want?" she asked as they began to move.

"Do we have another option?"

"We always have options," Verelia replied, though her tone suggested she didn't believe it.

"They're just usually worse than compliance."

They began to move.

Unlike the easy confidence he'd shown with Selene or the casual amusement during Cordelia's dance, Alaric's movements now carried a different quality, dutiful, correct, but distant.

Verelia matched him step for step with practiced precision, her silver hair catching the light with each turn.

Around them, the nobles watched with hungry eyes.

Some whispered.

Others made mental notes of every gesture, every expression.

Near the refreshment table, Livia still stood frozen, her friends forming a protective circle around her.

She watched the dance with an expression that couldn't decide why she was feeling this... numbness, the twitch in her stomach.

The Duke watched his daughter dance with the same calculating gaze he might use to assess a business contract.

And at the center of it all, Alaric and Verelia continued their perfect dance.

"Your aunt didn't tell you," Verelia observed his reaction, as they executed another turn.

"No."

"My father didn't tell me either."

"Seems we have that in common."

"How wonderful," she said flatly.

"A foundation for a beautiful marriage."

Alaric's his lips twitched a little.

"Careful, Milady. That almost sounded like sarcasm."

"Couldn't be. I'm told I have no sense of humor."

"Tragic."

"Indeed."

Meanwhile from her table, Selene observed with satisfaction, her lips curled into sky smile as both of them danced flawlessly.

But as the couple made another turn, Verelia's side brushed against Alaric's slightly.

Selene narrowed her eyes and her fingers twitched a little around her goblet.

Why is she so close?

___________

Chapter End

{A/N:}

Hey, guys I'm sure you must be wondering why even after saying I would continue updating 2 chapters a day, I've done like 4 or 5 chapters in whole week.

Well, something personal had come up and I had to stop writing for few days, so I was just uploading my stacked chapters and only writing whenever I get the time to write.

I'm really sorry for all of that. And I'll try to wrap it all in just few days and will try come back to regular 2 chaps a day.

Thanks for the support, see you guys soon.