Chapter 7: Ballroom
1711words
"Host a ball," he repeated calmly, as though suggesting nothing more extraordinary than an evening stroll. "It's time to introduce you to vampire society—discreetly, of course."
Three weeks had passed since Lina's unexpected visit. My training had intensified, with Adrian pushing me to master increasingly complex blood techniques. But social politics? That was an arena where I had no experience.
"Wouldn't that expose me to the Council?" I asked, pacing Adrian's study.
Adrian watched me from behind his desk, his eyes following my movements with undisguised appreciation. "Not if we present you as something other than what you are. You'll be introduced as Lady Ella Crimsonvale, distant relation to my mother's line, visiting from the eastern territories."
"Crimsonvale?" I raised an eyebrow at the unsubtle name.
Adrian's lips quirked in a smile that made my heart skip. "Sometimes the best place to hide a truth is in plain sight, disguised as fiction."
"And the purpose of this ball?"
"Multiple purposes," Adrian replied, rising from his chair and moving around the desk toward me. "First, to observe how you handle yourself among the nobility—a necessary skill for any ruler. Second, to gather intelligence on the Council's current activities. And third..." he hesitated, now standing close enough that I could feel the cool radiance of his body, "to address the rumors Lady Lina has undoubtedly been spreading since her visit."
"What rumors?"
"That I'm harboring a mysterious vampire with unusual abilities," Adrian said, his voice lowering. "And that I've developed a particular... interest in said vampire."
My breath caught. "Have you? Developed an interest?"
Adrian's crimson eyes darkened as they held mine. "I think you know the answer to that, Ella."
The tension between us, building for weeks, crackled like lightning in the confined space of his study. Before I could respond, he stepped back, resuming his formal demeanor.
"The ball will be in three nights," he continued. "Clara will assist with your preparations."
I nodded, trying to ignore the disappointment at his retreat. "I've never attended a formal vampire gathering. What should I expect?"
"Politics disguised as pleasure," Adrian replied. "Every conversation will have layers of meaning, every alliance will be conditional. You'll be watched, evaluated, judged—especially by those who knew you before."
"Like Lina," I said grimly.
"Yes. She's requested an invitation, along with her father and brothers."
I wasn't surprised. "She'll try to expose me, or at least humiliate me."
"Undoubtedly," Adrian agreed. "Which is why this is an excellent opportunity for your first... what did you call it? Face-slapping moment?"
I couldn't help but laugh at hearing the colloquial phrase in his aristocratic accent. "You make revenge sound so refined."
"Revenge is always most satisfying when served with impeccable manners," Adrian replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes that transformed his usually serious face.
The next three days passed in a whirlwind of preparations. Clara taught me vampire court etiquette, the proper forms of address for various ranks of nobility, and the complex dance of social politics. Adrian arranged for a renowned dressmaker to create a gown worthy of my supposed station—though he refused to let me see the final design, insisting it be a surprise.
On the night of the ball, Clara and three other attendants helped me prepare. They bathed me in water infused with rose petals and royal blood, dressed my hair in an elegant style adorned with ruby pins, and applied subtle cosmetics to enhance my features. When they finally brought the gown, I gasped.
The creation was a masterpiece of crimson silk and black lace, cut to emphasize my figure while maintaining regal dignity. The bodice was embroidered with tiny rubies forming a subtle pattern that, on close inspection, revealed my crescent moon birthmark woven throughout the design—hidden in plain sight, just as Adrian had suggested.
"His Grace requested these final touches," Clara said, presenting a velvet box.
Inside lay a necklace of black diamonds and rubies, arranged in a delicate pattern that echoed the embroidery on my gown. The centerpiece was a teardrop ruby of extraordinary size and clarity, suspended from a chain of intricate platinum links.
"It's beautiful," I whispered as Clara fastened it around my neck.
"It belonged to the last queen," she said softly. "The Duke has kept it safe for centuries, waiting for its rightful owner."
The weight of the jewel against my skin felt like both a blessing and a burden—another reminder of the destiny Adrian believed was mine.
When my preparation was complete, I stood before the mirror, hardly recognizing myself. Gone was the shamed outcast of the Nightshade clan. In her place stood a woman of power and presence, her eyes bright with newfound confidence.
A soft knock at the door preceded Adrian's entrance. He stopped abruptly when he saw me, his composed expression giving way to undisguised admiration.
"Ella," he breathed, the single word carrying volumes of meaning.
I turned to face him fully, suddenly shy under his intense gaze. "Is this suitable for Lady Crimsonvale?"
Adrian approached slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. "It's suitable for a queen," he said softly. "You are... breathtaking."
He too had dressed for the occasion, his tall frame resplendent in formal attire of midnight blue and silver. The colors complemented my crimson and black perfectly, as though we had been designed as a pair.
"The necklace," I said, touching the ruby at my throat. "Clara said it belonged to the last queen."
Adrian nodded. "My mother wore it at her coronation. Before that, it adorned twenty-seven queens of the Crimson Dynasty. It's been waiting for you."
"Adrian," I began, uncertain how to express the tumult of emotions his gift had awakened.
He silenced me by taking my hand and raising it to his lips. The kiss he pressed to my knuckles was formal in appearance but intimate in execution, his lips lingering against my skin as his eyes held mine.
"Tonight," he murmured, "we enter the arena together. Whatever happens, remember who you are—not who they believe you to be."
I nodded, drawing strength from his confidence in me. "I'm ready."
Adrian offered his arm, and I placed my hand upon it, feeling the solid strength beneath the fine fabric of his sleeve. Together, we descended the grand staircase to the ballroom, where dozens of vampire nobles awaited our entrance.
The assembled guests fell silent as we appeared, all eyes turning to assess the mysterious Lady Crimsonvale on the arm of the reclusive Duke Blackthorn. I felt their curiosity, their speculation, their judgment—but for the first time in my life, I did not shrink from such scrutiny.
Adrian led me to the center of the ballroom, then turned to address our guests. "Friends, neighbors, esteemed visitors—I welcome you to Blackthorn Castle. Tonight we celebrate the arrival of my honored guest, Lady Ella Crimsonvale, whose presence graces our territory after too long an absence."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd as they processed this introduction. I spotted Lina among the guests, her expression a mixture of suspicion and jealousy as she noted Adrian's possessive stance beside me.
"As is tradition," Adrian continued, "I open the festivities with the first dance." He turned to me, extending his hand. "Lady Crimsonvale, would you do me the honor?"
I placed my hand in his, feeling a thrill as his fingers closed around mine. "The honor is mine, Your Grace."
The musicians began a stately waltz, and Adrian drew me into his arms. Though we had never danced together before, our bodies moved in perfect harmony, as though we had been partners for centuries.
"Everyone is watching us," I murmured as he guided me through a turn.
"Let them watch," Adrian replied, his hand warm against the small of my back. "They see only what I wish them to see—a duke and his guest. They cannot see what lies beneath."
"And what lies beneath?" I asked, emboldened by the intimacy of the moment.
Adrian's eyes darkened as they held mine. "A guardian who has found his purpose again. A man who has discovered something he thought lost forever."
"What's that?"
"Hope," he said simply, the word carrying weight beyond its single syllable.
The music swelled around us as Adrian guided me through increasingly complex steps. I followed his lead instinctively, my body responding to his as naturally as my blood responded to my will. For those precious minutes, the rest of the ballroom faded away—there was only Adrian, his arms around me, his eyes never leaving mine.
When the music finally ended, applause broke the spell. Adrian stepped back, bowing formally, though his eyes still smoldered with unspoken feelings.
"You dance divinely, Lady Crimsonvale," he said, loud enough for nearby guests to hear.
"I have an excellent partner, Your Grace," I replied, matching his formal tone while hoping he could read the deeper meaning in my eyes.
As Adrian led me from the dance floor, I noticed Lina approaching, determination in her stride. The moment of reckoning had arrived sooner than expected.
"Duke Blackthorn," she said, executing a perfect curtsy. "Might I borrow your guest for a moment? I believe Lady Crimsonvale and I have much to discuss."
Adrian's expression revealed nothing, but I felt his hand tighten briefly on mine before he released it. "Of course, Lady Lina. Though I expect Lady Crimsonvale's company will be in high demand this evening."
The warning in his tone was subtle but clear. Lina acknowledged it with a tight smile before turning to me.
"Shall we take some air on the terrace, Lady Crimsonvale?" she asked, emphasizing my false name with barely concealed mockery.
I smiled serenely, channeling the confidence my new identity gave me. "Lead the way, Lady Lina. I find I'm quite enjoying the fresh perspectives this evening offers."
As we moved toward the terrace doors, I caught Adrian watching us, his posture relaxed but his eyes alert. Whatever confrontation awaited me with Lina, I knew I was not truly alone. For the first time in my life, I had someone firmly in my corner—someone whose belief in me transcended duty or obligation.
Someone whose touch made my blood sing with possibilities I had never dared imagine.
