Tap! Tap! Tap!

Selene's fingers drummed against the polished table with what could only be described as subtle impatience.

She lifted her wine goblet to her lips, taking a sip before setting it down.

Her emerald eyes surveyed the unfolding scene across the hall with an unreadable expression.

Then, a shadow fell across her table.

"Good evening, Lady Selene."

An aged man approached with the careful dignity.

His silver hair, combed neatly back, glinted under the chandelier's soft glow, and the deep lines around his mouth curved into a faint, diplomatic smile.

"May I?" he asked, gesturing toward the empty chair across from her.

Selene inclined her head graciously and drained the remainder of her wine. "Of course, Lord Harland. Please, join me."

He settled into the chair with the careful movements.

"It has been some time, Lord Harland," she murmured smoothly, her tone polite but distant. "I had not expected you to be present tonight. The capital does not often lure you from your countryside estates."

A dry chuckle rumbled from the man's throat.

"Ah, but even the old trees must bend when the winds blow strong enough. Tonight's gathering is… one such storm, wouldn't you agree?"

Selene tilted her head, her expression unreadable as her fingers traced the rim of her empty goblet. "Storms are only dangerous to those without shelter. Some of us… prefer to weather them from a distance."

Lord Harland leaned forward slightly, his sharp, gray eyes narrowing with interest. "Always the careful one, Lady Selene. I trust House Glimor finds itself well-positioned for the upcoming trade negotiations?"

"We always adapt to changing circumstances," Selene answered diplomatically. "And House Blackwood? I hear your mining ventures in the northern territories have proven... profitable."

A few minutes later, another noble woman approached their table and began chatting with Harland Blackwood in animated conversation about mutual acquaintances.

Selene listened to their exchange half-heartedly.

And after enduring several more minutes of idle chatter, she rose smoothly from her seat and excused herself.

She drifted through the hall, weaving between groups of gossiping nobles, her eyes scanning the crowd.

Where did that boy go? she wondered, irritation pricking at her composure. I only hope he doesn't pass out before the banquet even begins.

She paused and reached for another goblet of wine from a servant's tray, a familiar voice came from behind.

"Been a long time, Lady Glimor."

The voice froze Selene mid-sip.

Hand stilled on the goblet, her slender fingers tightening ever so slightly on its stem. She had not expected her of all people here.

She turned slowly to find herself facing a woman draped in a gown of deep emerald silk, that cut daringly close at the shoulders, the jeweled clasp at her neck glinting with serpentine grace.

Her dark auburn hair flowed in styled curls, framing a face sharpened with a kind of predatory beauty.

Her amber, foxlike, and calculating eyes gleamed with amusement.

"Viviane…" Selene whispered, the name almost tasting bitter on her tongue.

The smirk on the woman's lips widened, as if she'd just discovered her favorite toy after a long absence.

She moved closer with deliberate steps and selected her own goblet from the tray with.

"You look well, Selene," Viviane said. "Prosperity suits you."

Selene raised her chin slightly, the mask of composure slipping over her features once more. "And you haven't changed either, Viviane. Still circling like a hawk in search of prey."

Viviane laughed softly. She lifted her goblet, swirling the wine with deliberate languor before taking a sip. "Prey, you say? No, my dear Selene… I simply enjoy revisiting my old friend, can't I do it?"

Her eyes lingered on Selene, studying her expression as if she wanted to peel back every layer of restraint.

Selene met her gaze evenly. "The past is best left buried."

"Ah," Viviane tilted her head, the smirk never leaving her lips. "But some things… refuse to stay buried, don't they?"

Before Selene could utter a word, Viviane turned toward her with that same predatory smile, her amber eyes glittering with malicious curiosity.

"And what about this new nephew of yours, hmm? I even heard you've gone so far as to name him your heir."

She took another deliberate sip of wine. "But unless my memory fails me… you never had one, did you?"

Her lips curled into a smirk, lashes lowering slyly. "So who is he really? Your secret lover—"

"It's none of your business," Selene snapped, her emerald eyes flashing with warning fire as she glared at the other woman.

"I don't meddle in your affairs, Viviane, so keep your nose out of mine."

Viviane's smirk only deepened, as if Selene's defiance was the sweetest thing she ever saw. She leaned closer, her tone dropping with mock concern.

"Oh, but I'm afraid it is my business now, dear Selene. As Count Valtair's wife, I have certain... responsibilities to ensure the stability in our region. When mysterious heirs appear from nowhere, questions must be asked."

Selene's hands clenched into fists at her sides, her knuckles white with suppressed rage.

Viviane Valtair.

They had been friends or what could be said as rivals since childhood.

A rivalry born not out of petty squabbles, but because Viviane could never quite measure up.

The two girls were born into noble houses, destined to compete for everything that mattered in their world. Viviane had always been beautiful, undeniably so, with her striking auburn hair and sharp intelligence.

But Selene had always been one step ahead.

More beautiful, with her ethereal features and emerald eyes that could entrance or intimidate with equal ease.

Smarter, with a mind that could see three moves ahead. And most importantly, born to a better bloodline, with wealth and influence that Viviane's family could only dream of matching.

Though Viviane herself wasn't much less, she was almost equally compatible to Selene but...

That constant second place had poisoned Viviane from their earliest years, transforming childhood competition into envy. Every triumph Selene achieved became another wound to Viviane's pride, every success another reminder of what she could never quite reach.

Now, married to a Count and armed with official authority, Viviane had finally found a weapon sharp enough to draw blood.

"Responsibilities?" Selene's voice dripped with disdain as she stepped closer, her emerald eyes narrowing to dangerous slits. "How convenient that your 'responsibilities' always seem to align so perfectly with your insatiable need to pry into matters that don't concern you."

Viviane's eyes sparkled with delight at having struck a nerve. "My, my, such hostility. One might think you have something to hide, dear Selene. After all, noble bloodlines are matters of public record, are they not? Yet somehow, this nephew of yours appears to have materialized from thin air."

"Perhaps your memory isn't what it used to be," Selene replied with cutting sweetness. "Age does terrible things to the mind, I've heard. Should I speak more slowly?"

This hit its mark, Viviane was only two years older though. Her smile faltered for just a moment before sharpening into something more vicious.

"How thoughtful of you to be concerned about my faculties," Viviane purred.

"Though I must say, my memory is quite sharp when it comes to certain... interesting details. For instance, I recall a time when you swore you'd never marry, never have children. 'Too much trouble,' you said. And yet here you are, playing mother."

Selene's jaw tightened. "People change, Viviane. Though I suppose that's a foreign concept to someone who's remained exactly as petty and small-minded as she was at fifteen."

"Petty?" Viviane laughed, the sound like breaking bells. "I prefer 'thorough.' Tell me, does he know what kind of woman has taken him under her wing? Does he know about you?"

Meanwhile, across the hall, Alaric continued his easy banter with the three young ladies, his wine-loosened charm working its magic.

"You know," he said, swaying slightly as he gestured with his wine glass, "I was just thinking how unfair this whole evening is."

"Unfair?" Cordelia asked, tilting her head with curiosity.

"Well, here I am, trying to enjoy this excellent wine," Alaric replied with mock seriousness, "but how can a man focus on anything else when he's surrounded by such beauty? It's genuinely distracting."

The girls exchanged amused glances.

"Oh please," Catherine laughed, "that's such a line!"

"A line?" Alaric placed his hand over his heart in exaggerated offense. "Lady Catherine, I'm wounded! Though I must say, even your skepticism is charming. That little wrinkle you get when you don't believe someone? It's absolutely adorable."

"I do not get a wrinkle!" Catherine protested, unconsciously touching her forehead.

"See? There it is again!" Alaric grinned. "Though honestly, it just makes you more endearing."

Eleanor giggled. "He's impossible!"

"Impossible?" Alaric turned to her with renewed interest. "Lady Eleanor, coming from someone with eyes like yours, I'll take that as a compliment. Green like... like..."

"Like emeralds?" Eleanor suggested with a knowing smile.

"Too cliché," Alaric waved dismissively. "Like the first leaves of spring when they catch the morning light."

"You're awful," Cordelia laughed, but her cheeks were pink with pleasure.

"Awful? Now that hurts," Alaric said, then leaned closer. "Though I notice you're still smiling, so perhaps I'm not doing too badly?"

But as the conversation continued, his vision caught something that made his expression shift slightly.

Near the refreshment area, he could see Selene locked in what appeared to be an increasingly heated conversation with an auburn-haired woman.

"Ladies," he said, his tone becoming more serious, "you've been absolutely delightful company, but I'm afraid I need to attend to family matters. Until we meet again?"

He stood up and waved at them, before turning back.

The trio giggled, waving back then turned to their own conversations.

He made his way across the hall with determined purpose, weaving through crowd until he reached Selene's side.

"Is everything alright, my dear aunt?" he asked smoothly.