As we entered the main hall, a butler began to announce our names one by one, his voice ringing clear and formal through the vast space.
Morwenna, Father Cedric, and Uncle Rowan were ahead of us, so their names were called first. There weren't many guests yet—only scattered couples, a few neighbors, some relatives, small business owners, and a handful of young men I didn't recognize.
When those three were announced, the reaction was polite but muted. People paused their conversations, lowered their drinks for a respectful moment, then resumed talking with only mild interest. Even though we were among the more prominent families, few seemed eager to approach or strike up a conversation.
But when we—the young ladies—walked in and the butler announced us, everything changed.
We caught every eye in the room.
The way we held ourselves, the graceful sway of our gowns, the quiet confidence in our steps… it stopped the hall cold. Men—married or not—stared openly, as though they had never seen a woman before. Their wives turned red with jealousy, cursing us silently behind tight smiles. One man actually dropped his wine glass; the shatter was loud enough to draw glances, and his wife looked ready to murder him on the spot.
If you're a married man, there should be no other woman in your mind.
The gazes grew heavier, more intense. Gasps and whispers rippled through the crowd like sparks. Mother Elowen and I were fine with it—used to it, even. But the others were clearly uncomfortable. Tamsin, walking just beside me, was probably panicking inside, though she kept her composure. The four of them—Father, Uncle Rowan, Morwenna, and especially Tamsin—shifted uneasily under the weight of all those eyes.
The awkward tension in the hall began to dissolve as Mr. and Mrs. Viremont approached to greet us, their presence drawing the room into a softer, more courteous hush.
Alaric Viremont, head of the family, led the way with a small cluster of relatives at his side. His wife, Seraphine Viremont, walked gracefully beside him. Cassia's parents were impeccably dressed, as befitted the hosts of the evening. Mr. Viremont wore a tailored black suit paired with a rich wine-red shirt, accented by golden clippers and a sleek monocle. Strands of silver were beginning to thread through his hair, yet his clean, charming, and sharply defined features still made him strikingly handsome. Mrs. Viremont complemented him perfectly in a red-and-black gown with matching red gloves, her makeup applied with elegant precision.
"I'm really glad you were able to make it, Cedric. And you too, Mrs. Thornvale," Mr. Viremont said, his smile warm and genuine, voice calm and clear as he greeted Morwenna and the rest of us.
"I'm glad too. It's been a while," Father Cedric replied, returning the smile with obvious affection. He looked genuinely happy to see his old friend.
"Well, it looks like Elowen, Lucia, and the young girl behind you had a sudden burst of fashion," Mrs. Viremont added with a friendly, teasing lilt, accompanied by a light, complimentary giggle. Then she continued, eyes sparkling, "Us ladies will be the charm of this party."
"I have to say you are one lucky man, Cedric," Mr. Viremont said with a friendly, teasing laugh, clapping Father Cedric on the back. "For having Elowen and Lucia as your wife and daughter."
He was right—Father was lucky to have us. Father accepted the compliment with a modest smile and a gracious nod.
"Oh please, Mr. and Mrs. Viremont," Mother Elowen interrupted gently, her voice warm and poised. "The same thing applies to you two as well. A stunning pair as always."
She made certain the focus didn't remain solely on us; after all, this was their party. Morwenna smoothly backed her up, her smile perfectly calibrated.
"Elowen is right. You two look young again, especially Seraphine."
Morwenna kept her voice calm and pleasant, the very picture of graciousness. It was almost diabolical how effortlessly she could slip into this role. Come to think of it, she hadn't been paying much attention earlier. Uncle Rowan's behavior was predictable, but hers felt… off. She almost appeared to be searching for someone. Probably hunting for some work-related advantage; the bitch was always sniffing out profit.
"Oh, thank you, Miss Morwenna. I appreciate your kind words," Mrs. Viremont replied, her tone respectful as she placed one hand over her chest and tilted forward in a graceful half-curtsey.
We chatted for a while as more people joined the conversation, gradually forming a lively cluster around us. Soon other guests began arriving in earnest, swelling the numbers in the main hall. The flood of compliments from men—young and old, married and single—kept rising, each one more effusive than the last. It became difficult to maintain a genuine smile after a point. Father looked outwardly pleased, but a darker undercurrent flickered in his eyes whenever another man approached Mother Elowen or me with too much enthusiasm.
The main hall was now bustling with people. At some point Morwenna and Uncle Rowan had slipped away—god only knew when or where. Almost all the guests had arrived, and the party felt on the verge of truly beginning, yet I still hadn't seen Cassia anywhere. Where was she? Why hadn't she shown herself?
"Tamsin, let's go find Cassia," I said. "Besides, I think you must be exhausted."
Tamsin nodded, her face already showing clear fatigue. "Yes, Miss Lucia. How are you so calm with that corset on?"
I smiled at first, then let my actual exhaustion bleed into my voice. "Actually~ I'm dying… But we royals are always keeping up the act."
The moment I shifted my tone, Tamsin's eyes widened in instant panic and concern. "Oh nooo—you should get rest! Let's go somewhere private and loosen the corset a bit."
Tamsin and I were just about to slip away from the crowd when a man spotted his chance and stepped forward.
"Excuse me, I would like to have a word with you somewhere private. If you don't mind, of course. What is your name, young lady?"
He looked decent enough, but clearly much older than me. He didn't give me any room to speak or refuse, and his default handsomeness was the kind that blended into every crowd—pleasant, unremarkable, the sort you'd forget five minutes later.
"I'm sorry," I replied, voice humble and gentle, every inch the well-bred young lady. "I'm only sixteen years of age. You shouldn't talk to me like that."
I had to play the part of royalty; otherwise I would have shouted "pedophile" straight into his face.
"Oh… Is that so?" He feigned surprise, though the awkwardness was obvious. "My deepest apologies, young lady."
He retreated with a stiff smile, grinding his teeth as he melted back into the crowd. Marriage at sixteen was still common enough in this era, even with the new law forbidding it until eighteen. Some people simply refused to adapt to better standards.
My instincts and thought process had been razor-sharp from the start. I was just glad the law existed; without it, I might have ended up married off into a family of strangers instead of standing here at a party. Morwenna would not have hesitated for a second. But in a few years the law would grow stricter. My knowledge from the future told me that much.
Author note: If you are enjoying this story so far please share to your noval friends or add to it collection. I'm applying for contract soon. It will help a lot