Arrival of Lord Shan and Lady Sasha

Ravor spun again towards Victor and Ania as they entered the center of the hall, the shining floor mirroring the gentle light of chandeliers above. His steps were measured, nearly ritual, but there was the subtle warmth in how he bowed, the kind that didn't insist on notice but drew it inevitably. "My prince.". My princess… His voice rang out across the hall, firm and respectful, but there was a hint of gentleness beneath, a quiet assurance of loyalty and tenderness.

He stopped, his hand pressing against his chest, his eyes glancing towards the great doors at the far end, where the faint whisper of distant footsteps indicated the coming of company. "We are already in the banquet hall," he told her, his words measured, each syllable distinct. "Lord Shan will arrive shortly, and Lady Sasha will accompany him. Please, enjoy the feast for now." A soft tension touched his shoulders as he continued, voice lowering just slightly. "I'm sorry to leave so early, but I have things to see to—Lord Shan insisted." He did not sound defensive, merely a gentle sense of obligation that came to him as naturally as a cloak that was worn without protest.

Victor tilted his head, serene and unruffled, but the slight curve of a smile caught at the edge of his mouth. "Fine, Mr. Ravor. Proceed; enjoy your responsibilities. We will manage." His tone was flat, nearly gentle, but beneath it, the suggestion of reassurance crept, as though saying the hall was theirs to dominate, even without Ravor.

Ravor's lips bowed into a slight, sardonic smile as he executed a second bow, the action precise and respectful. "Thank you, Prince, for your comprehension," he murmured, his tone unruffled but underlaid with a hint of still pride. Without speaking, he turned with unhurried elegance, disappearing into the flow of servants and guests, dissolving into the crowd as if he had never existed.

The room breathed softly, the hums of speech slowly mounting again, a courteous background to the tender thrum of the party. Victor's purple eyes raked over the gathered company, keen and intentional, before coming to rest on Ania. She stood one step in back of him, her eyes following Ravor with an almost faraway serenity, her face touched with a tender seriousness that made her appear even more delicate and radiant in the gentle light of the hall.

Victor moved closer, the heat in his eyes cooling into a warm smile. He extended a hand, brushing a wayward lock of hair away from her cheek, and the contact held for just a moment longer than necessary to make her heart beat faster. "My little pie," he spoke softly, his tone low and teasing but full of warmth, "let's sit down and have some of this and get to know this place a bit better?"

Ania's lips curled into a shy, hesitant smile, and she squeezed his hand lightly, her fingers brushing against his in a silent caress that said more than any words could. "Of course, brother," she said, her voice a soft melody, light but firm, with a warmth that met the sparkle in her eyes.

They glided toward the far corner of the great hall, navigating gracefully through tables spread with glinting silverware and delicate porcelain plates, each of them shining under the golden light of crystal chandeliers. Nobles whispered among themselves, their gazes briefly swinging toward Victor and Ania, but none would break in. Servants moved with silent ease, bowing unobtrusively as they saw the couple arrive, their countenances carefully blanked, giving away no awe and no fear. Victor and Ania indulged in a rare treat, stopping to taste the sumptuous buffet before them. Victor's fingers lifted a chunk of roasted pheasant, its golden-brown skin glistening, as Ania's slender hands removed a quail egg nestled within a delicate pastry cup. Crystal goblets, their surfaces refracting the candlelight, overflowed with wine filled with the faint sweetness of exquisite orchard fruits.

Ania's eyes grew wide, her features lit by a gentle shine of pleasure as she bit into a pungent tart, her lips opening in a breath. "Victor… it's marvelous." Her voice was tinged with wonder, nearly delicate against the hum of the hall. Victor, enjoying the soft, herb-smothered beef he had selected, nodded slightly, bestowing her with a small, knowing smile. With a soft wave of his hand, he urged her on, to stay in the moment of enjoyment, untroubled and unmindful of the crowd that surrounded them.

They exchanged a soft chuckle, low and intimate, a bubble of secrecy in the smooth turmoil of aristocratic show. They floated slowly among the tables, sampling, watching, and relishing not only the food but each other's responses. Every refined look, every courteous nod of the people around him was stored in Victor's memory, but his focus was never quite diverted from Ania—her smile's curve, the glint in her eyes, the subtle movements that expressed more than any words ever could.

A tension hovered in the air, a soft undercurrent of expectation as the hall vibrated with restrained enthusiasm. Victor's hand lightly touched Ania's as they hesitated over a finely spiced tart, and she bent toward him just far enough to catch his smell, warm and intimate. Their own instant was endless, but the beat of the hall urged them back into the understanding that they were not alone, that they lived within the world of observation and expectation.

Abruptly, a voice pierced the gentle murmurs and the faint strains of music—a deep, sonorous announcement that commanded respect. All heads swiveled, the sentences caught mid-air, and the tinkling of glasses seemed to die in silence.

"Ladies and gentlemen! Attention! Head of the Suncrest family, Lord Shan, has arrived! Please, rise and greet him!"

The room dropped into instantaneous silence, the customary hum of talk dissipating like mist in a whistling wind. A single communal breath flowed through the assembly, eyes snapping toward the sweeping double doors at the opposite end of the room.

The formal music swelled in the background—a tinkling interlacement of stringed instruments, their vibrations quivering in harmony to a low, exultant trumpet fanfare. All the spirits of the room hung poised in expectation.

Through the doors, one figure appeared

------------------------------

Hi everyone!

Thank you so much for reading my book—it's a dream come true. Special thanks to all who support my book with: Golne Ticket, Power Stone, for the wonderful review and Generous gift! Your support truly motivates me to keep going and create even better stories.

Please, continue show more support for my book if really enjoy it—it helps me a great deal!

Thanks again for being here with me on this journey.

—Your neighbourhood writer: Scorpio_saturn777

------------------------------

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.