Another moment of silence stretched between them before Daisy suddenly perked up and clasped her hands together.
"Oh! I almost forgot! While you were resting, a letter came for you!"
She moved to the nightstand, retrieving a thick, cream-colored envelope from beneath a book. "The footman said it's from Count Ashford himself."
She presented the envelope with a small flourish.
Elise exhaled through her nose slowly, the weight of fatigue still pressing behind her eyes. She sat straighter, accepting the heavy paper.
"Ashford?" She narrowed her eyes at the embossed name. "Bothersome."
Despite the faint tremor in her fingers, she cleanly broke the crimson wax seal—imprinted with the Ashford lion—and unfolded the parchment. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she read.
To the Esteemed Members of the Whitefield Family,
It is with great pleasure that I extend to you an invitation to an evening of refinement and festivity at the Ashford Estate. On the night of 19 September, esteemed members of the aristocracy shall gather for a grand ball in celebration of the enduring bonds of nobility, the promise of prosperous alliances, and the elegance that graces our fine society.
The evening shall commence at seven o'clock, featuring a banquet of the finest delicacies, accompanied by music and dance befitting such a distinguished occasion. Your presence would honor the occasion, and I would be delighted to personally welcome you.
I look forward to the opportunity to strengthen the bonds between our families and revel in the splendor of our noble society.
With the utmost regard,
Reginald Ashford, Count of Rothwale
The message was brief, written in looping, self-important calligraphy, every word dripping with unearned grandeur.
Elise's eyes scanned the contents of the letter, her expression unreadable. After a moment, she looked up.
"He is hosting a ball," she said flatly.
Daisy crossed her arms. "Is Viscount Ashford still trying to pursue you?" she huffed. "That man is as persistent as he is dull!"
Elise shook her head. "If this were solely about his son's pursuits, the letter would've been addressed to me alone, not the entire family."
Daisy puffed up her cheeks in annoyance. "Maybe not entirely, but I wouldn't be surprised if he uses the opportunity to corner you. Again. He's like a gnat that won't swat!"
Elise gave her a sidelong glance before lightly tapping Daisy's forehead with the stiff edge of the letter. "You seem more displeased by the prospect than I am."
Daisy pouted and fixed her bangs. "I just can't stand the way he refuses to take a hint!" Before she could launch into further complaints, a new thought brightened her expression.
"Oh! But I heard a most interesting rumor! They say Duke Ravencourt himself is supposed to be there."
That name earned a subtly raised eyebrow from Elise. "Duke Ravencourt? At an Ashford ball?"
Daisy nodded excitedly, "The one and only! If it's true, this will be a once-in-a-blue-moon chance to see him in the flesh!"
Elise's fingers tapped once, thoughtfully, against her knee.
Duke Evander Ravencourt of Vaelmont. The current Overseer of the Guilds.
A name both revered and feared in the court. Whispers called him a war-beast draped in human silk—victorious in every campaign he led, swift to mobilize aid when disaster struck, even to lands that were neither his fief nor his responsibility. Duskmoore's great forest fire from a decade ago was quelled under his command—a swift, efficient operation with no loss of civilian life. After the floods devastated Fenwick, his private coffers financed the restoration of the entire riverside village.
He was also known to fund hospitals and orphanages across the empire, as well as medical research and industrial technology. Not to mention a well-known patron of the arts.
On parchment, he was perfect. Impeccable.
Foreign dignitaries showed him a deference usually reserved for royalty. Even Queen Alarice held him in conspicuously high regard. Alas, such favor also earned him some rather unflattering titles from his enemies in court as well. The Queen's Darling. The Ivory Consort. The Gilded Leash. Or worse.
But Elise had never seen him in person. Almost no one had. The man was a phantom, rarely making public appearances. And the ancient House Ravencourt had always been... intensely private.
For a specter to materialize at a ball hosted by the preening Reginald Ashford was—
An unreadable glint flickered in her pale eyes.
—highly unexpected. And therefore, worth watching.
"Where did you hear this specific rumor?" Elise questioned, her tone clinical.
"Uh..." Daisy scratched her cheek. "There had been talks among the staff that his Rothwale estate is being prepared for his arrival. I just assumed the ball is the reason why."
"You think his only reason to travel to his holdings is to attend one of Ashford's parties?"
"Well," Daisy shrugged, "Count Ashford was also boasting to anyone who would listen about the Duke being his guest of honor."
"I see." Elise exhaled, the weight of exhaustion pressing against her skull. "The Count is insufferable, but he doesn't make boasts of that magnitude unless he is at least partially certain he can deliver."
"So..." Daisy twiddled her thumbs, a hopeful smile playing on her lips. "Are you going? For the chance to see the legendary Duke?"
"He would be showing very public support to a man like Ashford," Elise murmured, more to herself than to Daisy. "That alliance alone makes me question what kind of man he truly is."
Daisy's face fell slightly, but she quickly brightened with a teasing glint in her eyes. "Well, he'd be a much more fascinating suitor than the Viscount, don't you think? And infinitely more handsome, from what they say!"
Elise arched an eyebrow, her expression utterly deadpan. Then, without a word, she raised the letter again in a silent threat.
Daisy squeaked, giggling as she ducked, shielding her head with both arms.
"Quick, quick! We're going to be late!" A child's voice rang out from the street, shrill with excitement.
Elise paused mid-motion, her attention drawn to the sudden clamor outside. It wasn't the usual hum of street merchants or idle passersby. This was different. Feverish. Urgent.
A distant roar of a crowd followed, swelling through the air like a rising tide.
She and Daisy exchanged a glance before moving to the window. Below, a surge of townsfolk filled the streets, all flowing in the same direction. Families with children in tow, lone figures striding purposefully, vendors pushing carts laden with goods.
It was as if the entire town had been pulled into the current.
"Vampire execution at the square!" a town crier bellowed from a nearby corner, his voice cutting through the din. "Come witness justice served! A monster brought to heel!"
Daisy sucked in a sharp breath and clutched the window sill. "A vampire execution? We haven't had one of those in years."
"It appears so." Elise merely watched, her fingers tightening imperceptibly on the windowpane.
Her mind immediately flashed to three nights prior—to the encounter in the alley.
The gunshots.
The moonlight-spun hair.
The blood-red eyes.
The bite.
And... the embrace.
There had been no new letters from Helen. No reports from the guild. He had simply vanished—no tracks, no sightings, not even whispers. As if he'd never existed at all.
Could they have...caught him?
Her heart gave a single, hollow thump against her ribs.
Daisy turned her head to Elise, not noticing her mistress' stiffened stature. "Should we... go see?" she hesitantly asked, morbid curiosity and deep reluctance.
Elise cast her a glance, reading the conflict on Daisy's face. Eventually, she gave a slight, decisive nod, her own hand rising unconsciously to touch the bandaged wound on her neck.
"Yes," Elise said, her voice barely a whisper. "We should."