Chapter 13 #2
“I am not trying to be a wallflower,” Minerva muttered, though she knew it was a lie.
She hated these balls—the pressure to flirt, to be charming, to win over men she barely knew.
It all felt so hollow. And yet, she also knew that Cherie was right.
It wouldn’t help anyone if she let herself wither on the vine.
“Then do not stand on the sidelines tonight,” Cherie urged, her voice soft but firm. “Go out there, talk to someone. Let them see you.”
Minerva’s brow furrowed. “It is not that easy, Cherie. You know that.”
Cherie let out a small, exasperated laugh. “Minerva, you are a beautiful, intelligent woman. There are eligible men at this ball who would be lucky to even catch your attention. You just need to give them a chance.”
Minerva opened her mouth to argue, but Cherie raised a hand to stop her. “No excuses. You have been avoiding this for too long. You are always so busy worrying about Chastity or whatever else is going on that you forget about yourself.”
A small knot formed in Minerva’s stomach as she glanced at Chastity, who was busy fixing a loose curl in front of one of the large mirrors.
She wasn’t wrong—Minerva had spent so much time focused on her sister that she’d almost forgotten about her own future.
But how could she think about meeting a potential suitor with Evan lurking around?
The thought of crossing paths with him again sent a wave of anxiety through her.
Cherie seemed to sense her hesitation. “Is this about him?” she asked, lowering her voice.
Minerva stiffened. “What? No,” she lied, her cheeks flushing slightly.
Cherie’s lips curved into a knowing smile. “Oh, so it is not about eluding a certain bachelor that shall not be named?”
Minerva bristled, folding her arms over her chest. “I am not eluding anyone,” she said, though the defensive edge in her voice betrayed her true feelings.
Cherie arched an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “If you say so.”
Minerva huffed, turning to adjust her gloves. “I am serious, Cherie. I have no interest in spending the night around him.”
“Then do not,” Cherie said simply. “But do not let him ruin your night either. There are plenty of other men here who would love to dance with you.”
Minerva’s lips pressed into a thin line. She hated how easily Cherie could read her, but she also couldn’t deny that her friend had a point. It wasn’t just about Evan. It was about her future, about not ending up on the shelf because she had refused to try.
She is right, Minerva thought reluctantly. I need to take care of myself too. If I do not make an effort, I will be left with nothing but regrets.
She drew in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as she turned back to Cherie. “Fine. I will make an effort.”
Cherie’s eyes sparkled with approval, a triumphant smile spreading across her face. “That is the spirit! Now, let’s get out there and find you a proper suitor.”
Minerva forced a smile, but inside, her nerves were still in knots. She had promised to make an effort, but the thought of mingling with the eligible men in the ballroom filled her with dread. She was tired of false smiles and shallow conversations. She wanted something more—something real.
But tonight, she would have to settle for trying.
As they made their way out of the dressing area and into the grand ballroom, Minerva couldn’t help but scan the crowd, searching for Evan’s familiar figure. I will avoid him, she promised herself. No matter what it takes.
Chastity had already disappeared into the crowd, her laughter floating back to them as she joined a group of young lords. Minerva’s heart tightened. She was having a good time. That is what matters.
But tonight, Minerva realized, she would have to take care of herself too.
Minerva stepped into the room, her hand gripping Cherie’s arm for a moment of reassurance. But before she could even take in the scene fully, her eyes locked onto him—Evan. He was standing near the far side of the room, surrounded by a small group of ladies, all of them hanging onto his every word.
The moment he saw her, a slow, deliberate smile tugged at his lips. His eyes gleamed with a mischievous glint as he winked at her, as though they shared some unspoken secret.
Minerva’s heart skipped a beat, but she forced herself to look away, her spine stiffening as she squared her shoulders. I will not let him get under my skin.
Instead, she turned her attention back to the ballroom, determined to follow her plan—a foolproof plan, she reminded herself. She would avoid him, mingle with other guests, and enjoy the evening on her own terms.
Cherie squeezed her arm gently. “Remember, Minerva, be charming. Let them see who you are.”
Minerva nodded, offering her friend a tight smile. She made her way across the room, her gaze skimming over the crowd as she sought out a group of acquaintances. She would engage in conversation, maybe even charm a potential suitor or two, and avoid Evan entirely. It was simple.
Or so she thought.
No matter where she moved in the room, she found herself always within eyesight of him.
He never approached her directly, never stepped into her personal space.
Instead, he remained with different groups, speaking with various guests, flashing that easy smile of his as he talked to the ladies who flocked to his side.
She tried to ignore it, but she couldn’t help but notice every time he laughed with another woman or caught her eye across the room. Every time, her stomach twisted in the most irritating way.
He was doing this on purpose, she thought, her irritation growing by the minute. Of course he is. But then again, why should he be? He had plenty of people vying for his attention—why would he waste his time with her?