Chapter 50
The carriage ride began in total, awkward silence.
I sat very stiffly, barely moving a muscle because I was trying my absolute best not to wrinkle the silver gown or accidentally step on the hem and rip the gown before we even arrived.
After a few minutes of quiet, I adjusted my sleeve. Then I adjusted it again. And then, because my hands had a mind of their own, I adjusted it once more.
"You're nervous," Rhaevan said, breaking the silence.
I whipped my head up. "Is it that obvious?" I admitted, sighing. "It's my first official royal ball. I feel like every single person there will know exactly what to do and say, except for me."
A small, frustratingly handsome smile appeared on his face. "Most of them probably feel the exact same way, Cassie."
I looked at him skeptically. "Right. Sure. But you don't."
"I've simply had more practice."
I frowned, leaning back against the leather seat. "How are you so composed all the time anyway? Is it a magical trait?"
He considered the question for a moment, looking out into the passing road. "I wasn't always," he said softly. "I wasn't born knowing how to navigate royal gatherings, Cassiane."
I blinked. Okay, that was surprisingly, unexpectedly comforting.
"Then how did you become..." I gestured vaguely at him, from his perfectly styled hair down to his expensive boots. "...whatever this is?"
He laughed softly, the deep sound vibrating in the small carriage. "This?"
"You know. Unbothered. Composed."
He thought about it for a second. "Eventually, I realized something useful. Most people at these events are far too busy worrying about their own appearance and what others think of them to pay much attention to you."
I considered that. Wow. That was actually a solid piece of psychological advice. Very therapist-approved.
Then another thought popped into my head. "Do you attend these things often?"
"Most of them, yes." He glanced out the window as the palace lights began to appear in the distance. "Princess Lysenne is usually invited to these high-society functions, and I'm often designated as her escort."
Oh.
My brain stalled. Well, that explained literally everything. The easy familiarity between them. They were each other's usual, designated escorts.
I turned my head and looked out my own window. Apparently, I had been accidentally inserting myself into a pre-written romance plotline. Not that I had tried to insert myself. Or that I even cared. Because I absolutely, one hundred percent did not care.
I folded my hands tightly in my lap. Suddenly, a weird, heavy sensation settled deep in my chest. I ignored it, again.
"Are we there ye-"
BUMP.
The carriage suddenly hit a massive jolt in the road. I let out a very ungraceful yelp and pitched forward off my seat.
Wonderful. Absolutely fantastic. I was about to attend my very first royal ball with a broken nose, a concussion, and a face full of majestic bruises.
But before my face could make violent contact with the carriage floor, a solid, strong arm wrapped firmly around my waist, catching my entire weight in mid-air.
I stopped moving. I looked up.
Rhaevan was looking down at me. Our faces were suddenly, alarmingly close. Like, close enough that I could smell whatever expensive cologne he was wearing.
"Careful, Cassiane," he said, his voice dropping an octave, warm with pure amusement. "You may fall."
I blinked, my brain short-circuiting.
Fall in what? Fall where? "Huh?"
A slow smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, his eyes locked onto mine. "You might get hurt." Then he added, his grip tightening just a fraction, "And I would have a very difficult time explaining to the king why I allowed a lady to arrive completely injured."
"Haa.."
Wow. Very eloquent of me. Top-tier vocabulary.
The problem was, I was still being held tightly against his chest. That suddenly felt like a deeply important piece of information that my heart rate was reacting to entirely too fast.
He appeared to realize the exact same thing at the exact same time. Very gently, almost reluctantly, he hoisted me back up and helped me slide back into my seat.
"Thank you," I muttered, my face burning.
"You're welcome."
I immediately whirled around and stared out the window. Wow, look at those trees. The leaves outside had never looked more incredibly fascinating in the history of botany.
A few moments later, the carriage finally came to a smooth stop. A sharp knock sounded on the wooden door.
"We've arrived," Rhaevan announced.
Thank goodness. I was rapidly running out of ways to behave like a normal human being.
By the time we stepped out, the palace grounds had settled into that perfect fantasy balance between royal grandeur and total illusion. Everything looked effortless, but my modern brain could tell an unreasonable, exhausting amount of event planning had gone into this.
The entire grand palace was practically glowing with warm, golden light.
Thousands of magical lanterns hung along the marble pathways and balconies, making the stone walls shimmer faintly.
Massive crystal chandeliers sparkled through the towering windows, scattering light like diamonds across the ballroom floor.
Outside, strands of tiny, glowing magical orbs were draped across every arch and pillar. It literally looked like the entire palace was breathing light.
And then there were the fountains.
Let me clarify: these were not fountains of water. These were fountains of food.
Literal streams of rich, melted chocolate flowed gracefully from one marble tier to another.
Fruit syrups cascaded down elaborate ice displays, and goblets of wine somehow refilled themselves magically without anyone touching them.
Apparently, ordinary catering methods like trays and waiters were completely beneath royalty.
Long, endless tables stretched across the grand hall, covered in gourmet dishes that looked almost too beautiful to eat. People were eating them anyway, obviously. But they did it gracefully. As though they had spent their entire lives casually dining next to decorative chocolate waterfalls.
And the guests... the nobles completely belonged here. They moved with effortless confidence. Their silk dresses and velvet coats shimmered with every step, and their high-society conversations flowed as smoothly as the classical orchestra music playing in the background.
Everything was perfectly, irritatingly in place. And then there was me.
I stepped out of the carriage with Rhaevan's help. He offered me his arm, and I took it almost automatically this time.
As we walked up the grand entrance steps, I became painfully aware of the bright lights, the hundreds of staring eyes, the royal expectations, and the terrifying fact that I was expected to act like I belonged in a fantasy court. My grip on Rhaevan's arm tightened into a borderline death-grip.
He noticed instantly.
"Don't worry," he said quietly, leaning his head down closer so only I could hear his voice over the crowd. "You'll do perfectly well, Cassie."
I glanced up at him. And for some bizarre, unexplainable reason, I actually believed him. I gave a small nod and smiled.
My attention was immediately drawn to the massive raised platform at the far end of the ballroom. Princess Lysenne and the King stood there, elegantly greeting their noble guests. The Queen was nowhere to be seen, meaning her health still hadn't improved.
As we approached the stage, I noticed a long line of nobles waiting to pay their respects. One by one, they stepped forward, exchanged fake, polite pleasantries, bowed, and moved aside.
Then it was our turn.
Lysenne looked at me first, and her stiff, royal expression softened almost immediately into a genuine smile. "You look absolutely beautiful, Cassie," she said warmly, her eyes scanning the silver gown.
I smiled back, feeling a bit of the tension melt away. "Thank you, Your Highness. You look... entirely ethereal, I must say."
She laughed softly, a light, musical sound. "Thank you." Then she leaned in slightly, dropping her voice. "We'll catch up properly after all these boring formalities are over."
I nodded. Then, my eyes shifted to the King.
He wasn't looking at me. Or rather, he looked at me for a brief, cold second before his gaze immediately drifted elsewhere, completely dismissing my presence.
His expression remained totally distant.
Almost irritated. As though my very existence at this ball was something he merely tolerated out of political obligation rather than welcomed.
A familiar, icy discomfort settled quietly in my chest.
I knew that feeling. I had known that exact feeling of rejection for a very long time, even in my past life. I simply chose not to linger on it. I stepped back, keeping my face blank, and offered a polite, shallow nod. Tonight was already complicated enough without deep-seated family trauma.
"Are you alright?" Rhaevan asked quietly as we stepped away from the platform.
"Yes," I replied, a little too quickly, my voice sharp. Then I let out a heavy sigh, dropping the act. "It's just... meeting someone who clearly doesn't welcome your existence can be slightly uncomfortable, you know?"
He stopped and looked down at me for a long, intense moment, his dark eyes reading my face.
I absolutely did not allow that emotional conversation to continue. No way.
"Well," I said, aggressively changing the subject, "I came here tonight for the high-end catering, and that is exactly where I intend to remain. If you can't find me later, Rhaevan, I will almost certainly be stationed directly beside a dessert table."
"I'll know exactly where to look then."
He stepped away to go greet some high-ranking ministry officials properly. I, on the other hand, immediately bolted in the absolute opposite direction. Straight toward the food.
The first plate of miniature pastries was excellent. The second plate of gourmet meats was also excellent.
By the third plate, which featured a glorious mountain of chocolate-covered strawberries, I had officially decided that royal balls were deeply underrated.
"This," I murmured to myself, taking a blissful bite, "is actual heaven."
I marched back over to the buffet table to refill my plate once again. I was fully immersed in the culinary experience, completely minding my own business and living my absolute best possible life under the circumstances when-
BAM.
Someone blindly collided directly into my side.
My plate tilted violently. My balance shifted. My silver heels slipped slightly on the polished marble floor. And in the very next second, a glass of cold, dark red spilled spectacularly across the entire front of my gorgeous silver gown.
I froze instantly.
Slowly, agonizingly, I lowered my eyes to look down at myself. A massive, ugly, dark stain was rapidly spreading across the moonlight fabric, ruining the intricate star embroidery.
I stared at it. Then I stared some more.
"...Oh," I whispered to the buffet table.
Because sometimes, in the face of absolute, inevitable disaster, there are simply no other words in the human vocabulary.