CHAPTER 173: PLAYFUL BANTER

As Lilith walked out of the ballroom, Charlotte and Viktor quickly hurried after her.

"Lilith! Wait up!" Charlotte called, catching up to her just outside the ballroom doors.

Viktor fell into step beside them, his brows furrowed together with concern. "You’re leaving already?"

Lilith turned to face them, her expression soft. "Yes, I’ve spent more time here than I wanted. I’m exhausted and wish to return to my chambers."

"We can leave with you if you’d like," Charlotte offered, her eyes glimmering with concern.

Lilith shook her head, offering a small, appreciative smile. "No, please stay and enjoy the ball. There’s no reason for all of us to disappear. Besides, it would be a shame to waste those fine clothes."

Her gaze lingered briefly on Viktor. "You should make the most of the festivities. I know things have been suffocating these past few days. Use this to replenish yourself, you’ll need the energy for the next few days."

Viktor pressed his lips into a thin line but nodded. "Very well, Lilith. Sleep well."

Charlotte smirked and waved her off. "Rest well, Lilith. We’ll find you later."

"Good night, both of you."

With a final glance, Lilith turned and walked down the hallway, her steps graceful despite the faint ache in her feet.

Back inside, Viktor and Charlotte re-entered the hall. Almost immediately, a small swarm of fair ladies approached Viktor, their fans fluttering, eyes sparkling with mischief as they gathered around him like moths to a flame. Their voices chimed in admiration.

"Lord Rune, would you honor us with a dance?"

"Your coat suits you perfectly, my lord. Such impeccable taste."

"Your reputation precedes you, Lord Rune. I must say, the stories don’t do you justice."

"You are incredibly dashing."

Viktor offered a polite smile as the ladies battled for his attention. "You flatter me, my ladies."

Charlotte chuckled from the side, folding her arms as she watched the scene unfold. "Seems you’ve become quite the attraction."

Viktor shot her a pleading glance. "You’re just going to abandon me like this?"

"I think you’ll manage," she teased, slowly backing away. "Enjoy the moment."

With that, Charlotte blended into the crowd, leaving Viktor to his adoring assembly. As she wandered through the hall, her eyes caught a group of young gentlemen seated near the back of the room. One of them, a tall man with unruly brown hair and a roguish smile, rose and approached her, his strides quick and confident.

"My lady," he began with a slight bow, "we couldn’t help but notice you seemed... unaccompanied. Would you grace our humble table with your presence?"

Charlotte arched a brow, intrigued. "Only if you have something stronger than the wine they’re passing around."

The gentleman laughed, his easy charm making him instantly likable. "We have something far better. Come, you’ll be in good company."

He led her to the table where his friends sat, their faces lighting up as she joined them. They quickly poured her a glass of dark red wine. Charlotte took a sip, her eyes briefly widening at the richness of the drink.

"Now that’s more like it."

"You have excellent taste," one of the men remarked. "I’m Edwin, by the way, and these are my dearest friends, Thomas, Roland and my brother, Johan."

"Charlotte," she introduced herself with a coy smile. "A pleasure meeting you all."

What followed was an evening filled with laughter, witty banter, and genuine conversation. They spoke of everything, from the boredom of court politics to the wild escapades they had encountered during their travels. The gentlemen were charming, occasionally daring, and Charlotte found herself genuinely enjoying their company.

Most of the men were already lords, while some were heirs to estates, dukedoms, and manors. Roland, in particular, had visited fifteen kingdoms in his twenty-five years, which Charlotte found quite impressive. The others, however, seemed entirely unfazed by his stories, leading Charlotte to suspect that Roland had likely bragged about his adventures so often that his friends were no longer amused.

Across the ballroom, Viktor was beginning to lose his patience. He had initially enjoyed the attention from the ladies, but now he longed for an escape. Though he wanted to send them away, doing so would have been impolite. To make matters worse, he noticed two of them nudging each other as they inched closer to him.

Their endless questions continued, and Viktor responded as politely as he could, though his mind had long since drifted. He had danced a few times before firmly deciding he was done for the night.

As the ladies bickered over the name of his shoes, Viktor sipped his drink, barely listening.

His gaze drifted across the room and landed on Charlotte. She was laughing freely with her newfound companions, raising her glass as if in triumph. Two of the men drank calmly, while the other two gesticulating wildly, appearing to act out a story.

It was nice to see her genuinely enjoying herself, but Viktor couldn’t ignore the tug in his chest. He didn’t want to admit it, didn’t want to sound jealous but he disliked seeing her so at ease with other men, even if they appeared to be respectable gentlemen.

He was still watching her when a voice jolted him from his trance. He turned to his right and found a petite woman standing there. Her skin was pale as porcelain, and her dark hair was swept away from her face, revealing a broad and eager smile.

"Lord Rune, would you like to dance?" she asked, her voice soft and piercing.

Viktor wanted to refuse, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. Offering a tight, polite smile, he set his drink on the table. "Yes, Lady...?"

"Eloise. My name is Eloise."

"Very well, Lady Eloise." Viktor gently took her hand and led her to the dance floor.

~~~

Charlotte, meanwhile, was in the midst of a playful banter about swordsmanship with Roland, who was animatedly recounting how he had once fought a large bear during his travels.

"I would say you’re embellishing the story a bit," she accused, her eyes glinting with amusement.

"I would never! I’m a man of honor," Roland declared, resting a hand on his waist with exaggerated pride.

"A man of stories, perhaps."

The table erupted in laughter, the men slamming their fists against the wooden surface in their delight.

"Oh, dear heavens! She got you good this time, Ro," Thomas chuckled.

Roland rolled his eyes at his friend and muttered under his breath, "I did wrestle a bear," before downing his drink.

As the laughter settled, Charlotte leaned forward, her hands pressed on the table, her tone dropping conspiratorially. "Now that Roland is done, I have a ghost story to tell, one that will keep you up all night."

The men’s eyes widened, their curiosity instantly piqued.