The carriage slowed as it began to move gently. Other carriages were in front, and she was sure that lots of people would be here from different kingdoms. Yeara took a few deep breaths as she looked outside the window, and then Cedric turned as he whispered.
"I cannot wait for the cakes," he spoke as Yeara nodded in agreement.
"Yes, especially the chocolate cake…" she spoke as Cedric added softly, his blue eyes glinting with joy.
"Lemon cake too."
Yeara shook her head playfully yet truthfully.
"Oh no, Cedric, I do not like that at all. It is the worst," she said, her hands moving to her face dramatically as if shocked. Cedric's soft laughter surrounded the carriage as the parents just watched the children banter.
Lady Persophone turned to her husband, who turned to her in suprise before she shrugged and whispered,
"You would not find this so shocking had you spent more time with your son, John."
Just as she said those words, the carriage came to a halt.
The door opened as Cedric jumped out.
"No, Cedric, be a gentleman," Yeara spoke as she moved out elegantly, just as she had been taught. Her mama moved out, then her papa as well.
Her eyes looked at the outside. The place looked like a castle, so much bigger than their manor. The round lights at the middle were a sculpture, and water surrounded it, pouring in the most magnificent way.
"What a waste of resources," she spoke to herself as she could not believe that they were wasting this amount of water just for decorations.
Different carriages stood as many unknown faces walked together—some families, some alone, towards the entrance.
"Let's go. Remember to behave," Lady Persophone reminded once more as Yeara smiled widely at her, nodding. She turned to her papa, who gave her a reassuring gaze. Yeara returned his gaze with a smile. She did not know why she was still finding the situation funny.
'Cedric really must have humbled Papa. He has never been this silent. He is still in mild shock.'
She cleared her throat, her eyes almost betraying her ability to hold her laughter. She finally straightened her face.
As they walked towards the entrance, Lady Persophone held her husband's arm while Yeara and Cedric stood beside her. They waited for the people in front of them. Everybody here wore exquisite gowns.
A man in a tuxedo, he looked huge, his face cold and slightly scary, he held a long list as he searched for names.
He gave a slight nod before pushing the door open. The couples entered. It was now the John family's turn.
"Duke John and Duchess Persophone family," Duke John spoke in a slightly deep tone.
The man searched for the name. They waited, and finally he shook his head, they moved to enter but….
"Step aside. I cannot find your name on the list."
Lady Persophone's eyes widened at the embarrassment as Duke John stared in disbelief. He moved aside, and they followed, knowing that to avoid further embarrassment, it was better to comply.
Yeara and Cedric turned to Duke John, who remained silent. Another family came. They stared at them. The woman lifted her fancy hand fan to her lips as she muttered something to her husband before turning to Lady Persophone judgmentally.
Lady Persophone managed a tight smile.
"Interesting weather, isn't it?" she spoke with a small smile.
The lady gave a nod and shifted her gaze away. Lady Persophone looked around. More carriages were coming, and it would be the hall's gossip if they found out that they were standing aside because their names were not on the list.
"How degrading and embarrassing," Lady Persophone muttered to herself as she turned sharply to her husband questioningly.
"I apologise. Your name was on the second page. I had been looking downwards," the huge man suddenly said as Yeara rolled her eyes inwardly.
They all walked towards the door. Duke John glanced at the man one last time. Surely, this would be his first and last shift—he was going to make sure of it.
After all, he was a duke.
They entered the hall. It was vibrant and large. The soft sound of violin and piano circulated through the space. At the middle was a step two levels down before a round, ring-like place for the ball. Above it hung a large chandelier.
Different exquisite gowns surrounded them, different faces everywhere. It was filled with soft chatter and laughter. Everything screamed wealth. No one needed to tell her that only the wealthiest people came here.
Her eyes moved around as if searching for something—or someone.
Finally.
Her gaze landed on him.
King Zalthor.
There he sat at the main seat in front, legs crossed as he sipped red wine. Her gaze moved to his neck as she watched his Adam's apple bob slowly as he gulped.
He was wearing a sleek black suit, perfectly tailored. His red hair was brushed neatly to the back. The suit had golden buttons and stripes—it looked almost similar to hers. She had thought she was the only one wearing black, never imagining she would match with the king.
Her eyes moved to his hands holding the glass elegantly, then to his eyes.
Then..
His gaze snapped straight to her.
Yeara's eyes widened as she immediately shifted her gaze. Her heart skipped, her stomach flipping dangerously.
"Ack—"
Her mama and papa turned to her as her hands flew to her mouth, shocked by the sound she had just made. She cleared her throat and straightened.
H–How had he seen her…
There were hundreds of people here, in fact up to thousa..
"A pleasure to meet you, Lady Persophone."
Yeara shifted her gaze to the woman who had arrived. The woman looked faintly pretty, a testament to her aging. By her side stood a man who looked to be her husband, his face calm.
The lady wore a dark red gown, almost similar to her mama's but a different shade. Her husband's suit matched her colour.
Her lips curved sweetly, adding more wrinkles to the side of her eyes.
"Lovely to meet you too," Lady Persophone spoke.
"I had caught sight of you. What a coincidence—we almost have the same colour of gown," the woman said with gentle laughter, her hands moving to her lips ladylike as she looked Lady Persophone up and down.
Lady Persophone laughed as well.
"Well, almost cannot kill a bird, can it?" she asked.
The woman's smile faltered slightly before she bent her head in agreement.
"Well, it certainly cannot," she spoke, turning to Lady Persophone's husband. "I see you brought all your family members."
"Your sight did not betray you this time," Lady Persophone replied elegantly.
The woman turned to little Cedric, then…
"Meet my daughter, Lady Yea—"
Lady Persophone's words were interrupted as she looked around.
Where was Yeara?
Yeara walked through the crowd. All eyes stared at her as they parted to give way. Her elegant, calm, and sophisticated aura made her stand out. She looked like a black swan—beautiful yet unapproachable.
Her eyes were locked on King Zalthor as she walked straight towards him. All eyes followed in confusion, curiosity, and surprise.
She stopped in front of him.
Zalthor's empty eyes remained on her.
With a slow, graceful curtsy, she spoke.
"May I have this dance?"