CHAPTER 99: BANQUET [10]

The ceremony continued...

A portly lord in yellow silk practically waddled forward, bowing so low his face turned red.

"Lady Verelia," he wheezed, "House Cromwell presents this necklace of Astarian pearls, each one worth a small estate!"

He produced an ostentatious display case, clearly hoping the duchess would be impressed by the wealth.

Verelia’s expression remained perfectly neutral.

"How... generous, Lord Cromwell." Her tone was polite but utterly devoid of warmth.

Next came Marcus, still pale from witnessing Alaric’s earlier display but determined to make an impression. He swept forward with practiced elegance, producing a leather-bound tome.

"A first edition of ’The Celestial Chronicles,’ Lady Verelia. I recalled you mentioned an interest in ancient history at the spring gathering."

For the briefest moment, genuine interest flickered in Verelia’s eyes before the mask slipped back into place. "Your memory serves you well, Lord Vale."

At least this one pays attention, she thought, though her expression betrayed nothing. Still, remembering a single comment doesn’t make him less of a peacock.

"Such thoughtfulness," the Duchess murmured, her voice perfectly pleasant while her eyes remained cold.

Each suitor was another reminder of what awaited her daughter, a cage, just like her own.

The procession continued, young lords practically tripping over themselves to present increasingly elaborate gifts. One offered a trained falcon, another a set of enchanted jewelry, yet another promised his family’s support in "any endeavor Lady Verelia might pursue."

Alaric snorted softly at that last one, earning a subtle elbow from Selene.

"Behave," she murmured, though her lips twitched with suppressed amusement.

The effects of wine still lingering?

From across the room, Viviane watched the proceedings with calculating eyes. She leaned close to another woman in crimson silk, Lady Meredith.

"The Glimor boy," Viviane whispered, her voice dripping with venom. "Find out everything. His past, his training, where he truly came from. There must be something we can use."

Lady Meredith’s eyes glinted with interest. "And if I find something... compromising?"

"Then we ensure everyone knows it," Viviane replied, her gaze fixed on Alaric with burning hatred. "That mongrel humiliated my son. He’ll pay for it."

Meanwhile, another young noble, this one tall and broadly built with the bearing of a warrior, approached the platform. He bowed deeply before Duke Rithvale first, a calculated move.

"Your Grace," he said in a deep voice, "Garrett of House Steelwind. I offer not mere trinkets, but my sword arm in service to Lady Verelia. Should she ever have need of a protector..."

He turned to Verelia with what he clearly thought was a winning smile. "I would be honored to stand as your shield, my lady."

How original, Verelia thought dryly.

Another wanna be hero thinking I need protection. As if I haven’t been training with a blade since I could walk.

The Duke’s expression tightened almost imperceptibly.

"Your offer is... noted, Lord Steelwind," Verelia replied, her tone so neutral it bordered on dismissive.

As the gift presentations continued, Alaric found his attention wandering. These displays of wealth and false valor were tedious at best. His eyes swept at the crowd, noting positions, exits, potential threats, old habits...

"Patience," Selene murmured beside him, reading his restlessness. "Our turn approaches soon enough."

Indeed, the line of gift-bearers was finally thinning. Soon, it would be House Glimor’s moment, and Alaric could already feel the weight of dozens of curious stares, all wondering what the new heir would present.

From her position near the refreshment table, Viviane’s lips curved into a cruel smile as Lady Meredith nodded and slipped away into the crowd.

Enjoy your moment, boy, she thought. It won’t last long.

The line of nobles bearing gifts had dwindled to a trickle when Duke Rithvale’s steward stepped forward, clearing his throat.

"House Valtair."

As the name spoken, Viviane stepped forward, her gown rustling against the marble.

Despite her son’s recent humiliation, she carried herself with vicious elegance. Behind her, a servant carried an ornate wooden chest.

"Your Grace," she said, her curtsy perfect even as her eyes remained cold. "Lady Verelia." Another curtsy, though this one shallower than before.

"House Valtair presents a set of Moonweave silk gowns, imported from the Eastern Kingdoms."

The servant opened the chest, revealing fabric that seemed to capture light itself. Several ladies in the crowd gasped, Moonweave was notoriously expensive.

"How... thoughtful," Verelia said, her tone flat enough to make it unclear if she was being polite or dismissive.

Viviane’s smile tightened. "Only the finest for such an... important occasion."

She stepped back, but not before her eyes found Alaric in the crowd.

The look she gave him could have curdled wine. Then she weaved back among the other nobles.

"House Glimor," the steward announced next.

The crowd’s chatter dimmed noticeably. Heads turned, bodies shifted, creating a natural pathway.

Selene moved forward with her usual grace, and Alaric followed a half-step behind, trying not to look as bored as he felt. His hands stayed in his pockets until Selene shot him a look that could’ve meant ’behave’ or ’I’ll kill you later’ or possibly both.

Selene curtsied perfectly before the platform. "Your Grace. My lady." Her eyes flickered to the Duchess then settled on Verelia. "In honor of this special day, House Glimor presents—"

She gestured, and Alaric stepped forward, pulling a small velvet box from his pocket, the one she handed him before coming here.

And he simply opened it.

Inside lay a hairpin. Silver, yes, but unremarkable at first glance, until the light caught it.

Then the metal seemed to shimmer with an inner fire, threads of blue running through it like captured lightning.

"Starsteel," someone whispered from the crowd. "That’s... hardly forged anymore."

Verelia’s mask slipped. Just for a heartbeat, genuine surprise flickered across her features before she caught herself. Her fingers twitched as if she wanted to reach for it.

"An heirloom of our house," Selene continued smoothly. "It was worn by the first Lady of our house, at her own coming of age, three centuries ago."

Duke Rithvale’s eyebrows rose slightly.

Interesting choice, artisans nowdays don’t really forge heirlooms out of pure starsteel.

His eyes moved between Selene and Alaric, calculations running behind his careful expression.

Verelia actually leaned forward slightly, the first real interest she’d shown all evening. "It’s beautiful," she said, and for once it didn’t sound like empty politeness.

From the crowd, Marcus hissed to his companion, "Three centuries? That thing’s worth more than half the gifts combined."

"Shut up," his friend muttered back, but several nearby nobles had heard.

Viviane’s knuckles went white around her wine glass.

Of course. Of course she’d make such a display. Her eyes darted to where Lady Meredith had vanished into the crowd.

Hurry.

"Such a gift speaks to the... depth of friendship between our houses."

Duke Rithvale said, his tone formal but his eyes calculating.

Alaric noticed the slight emphasis, the way the Duke’s gaze lingered on him specifically.

Testing waters, he thought. Seeing how I react.

He offered a lazy half-smile. "Friendship’s one word for it."

Selene’s heel pressed against his foot, a warning. But Duke Rithvale’s lips twitched, almost amused.

"Indeed." He said, nodding. Then Selene and Alaric offered a polite nod, then they stepped back, and the ceremony continued with the last few noble houses.

But Alaric noticed how Verelia’s hand occasionally went to her hair, as if imagining the pin there.

Finally, Duke Rithvale cleared his throat. "Well. That was... eventful." He raised his goblet. "I believe it’s time for dance. Musicians!"

The orchestra began a waltz, and couples started moving toward the dance floor. The Duke descended from the platform, offering his arm to his wife, who took it with practiced grace despite the stiffness in her movements.

"Shall we?" Selene murmured to Alaric.

"Do I have a choice?"

"Not really."

"Then by all means, let’s get this over with."

She pinched his arm as they moved toward the floor.

"Try not to step on my feet."

"No promises. I’ve had a lot of wine."

"You sobered up an hour ago."

"Did I? Must’ve forgotten."

Around them, other couples were taking position. Marcus had somehow convinced one of Cordelia’s friends to dance. Various young lords were approaching Verelia, who declined each with polite but firm words.

Alaric caught Livia watching from near the windows, still surrounded by her friends. When their eyes met, she quickly looked away, cheeks flushing.

"Focus," Selene muttered as the music swelled.

________________

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.