The next morning, at the Blythmor mansion in Ferrygrove, Elain awoke with a faint headache from lack of proper sleep.
The journey into town had taken longer than usual due to the heavy rain, and she had not arrived in Ferrygrove until well past midnight. Her aunt Cynthia and her cousin had arrived three hours earlier.
"The seamstress will arrive today for your gown fitting," Cynthia announced during breakfast.
The lady of the Blythmor family was a fine middle-aged woman with auburn hair always arranged in a low bun, and thin eyebrows that seemed to sharpen the entirety of her face. Her husband, the current Lord Blythmor, sat at the head of the table.
As Lady Cynthia spread butter over her bread, her gaze shifted to Elain. "Though I have agreed to let you join this year's Halcyon, you must not forget the rules, Elain."
Elain's head lifted at once. Her thoughts had been elsewhere until her aunt spoke her name.
"Let us not choose gowns that are overly extravagant. We do not wish you to draw attention for your own good." Cynthia's tone sharpened at the end, emphasizing the importance of the matter.
"I understand, Aunt. I know you have my best interests at heart." Elain offered a small smile before returning to her meal.
Of course, she knew that attracting attention would do her no good. If curiosity led others to discover that she was the former Lord Blythmor's bastard, she would bring not only shame upon herself, but also upon the family that fed and clothed her.
It was the reason her gowns were made deliberately plain, and why she spoke little and moved even less in the presence of guests. Over the years, she had perfected the art of being invisible.
After breakfast, Elain sat with Rory in one of the mansion's drawing rooms as they waited for the seamstress.
While Rory recounted the small commotion that had taken place at Mrs. Gibson's home, Elain's thoughts drifted far from the conversation.
Her mind wandered once more to the events of the previous night at Mrs. Cobb's cottage. She could not understand why, but she found herself unable to rid her thoughts of the man's strange silver eyes.
When her carriage had arrived that night, she had taken her leave of him at once, telling him he might remain until the rain stopped, provided he locked the door upon leaving, unless, of course, the Cobbs had returned beforehand. Though the thought had crossed her mind, she didn't dare warn him against stealing anything, as he looked like he could afford to build himself a fine house if he wished.
"Elain!"
Rory's voice finally pulled her back. Her cousin's eyes narrowed with suspicion.
"What is the matter? Your thoughts are clearly elsewhere. You have been like this since breakfast. What is it?" she asked, concern lacing her voice. "Are you nervous about attending Halcyon for the first time?"
Elain sighed softly. "I'm sorry." She placed her hand over Rory's. "There is nothing amiss. I am merely a little drowsy. You know not everyone can sleep in a moving carriage as you do. I had very little rest."
It was not long before the seamstress arrived, bringing with her designs for gowns and samples of fine fabrics. The ladies were kept occupied for the rest of the morning.
Throughout the week, the upper class remained in a flurry of preparation for Halcyon. Noble ladies summoned seamstresses at every turn and frequented shops in search of new shoes, accessories, and cosmetics.
For them, it was not merely a celebration, but an opportunity to display their beauty before society and, perhaps, to attract suitable suitors.
Three days before the start of Halcyon, Elain joined her aunt and cousin for tea at the Blythmor mansion, along with Lady Mary and her daughter, Amber. Mary Ansley was a close friend of Cynthia's, and thus a frequent guest at the Blythmor's.
"I am surprised that Elain is finally coming out of her shell," Lady Mary remarked when the matter of Elain's attendance at Halcyon was brought up.
Even Cynthia's closest friend was unaware of the truth of Elain's birth. To those who knew of her, she was merely a distant relative of the Blythmors—frail, sickly, and far too delicate to attend social functions.
It was for the sake of this illusion that Cynthia often reminded Elain to keep a careful watch over her weight, lest she appear too healthy.
"Are you no longer unwell?" Amber asked, her eyes narrowing slightly, a ghost of a smile playing upon her lips.
Elain had long been aware that Amber Ansley did not favour her. As the granddaughter of a countess, Amber was among those young ladies who disdained any association with those beneath her standing. And in her eyes, Elain was nothing more than a countryside girl living upon the Blythmors' charity.
"Her health remains delicate," Lady Cynthia answered smoothly, "but she is well enough to attend a few soirées and balls. The physician has advised moderation, however, so she will refrain from excessive dancing."
Elain offered a polite smile. Beside her, Rory could not quite conceal her small frown. Dancing was one of the finest pleasures of Halcyon, and she had hoped to share many dances with Elain. Yet that would clearly not be possible. She loathed that Elain must play the part of a sickly girl, all to prevent unwelcome questions about her absence from society.
"That is a pity." Amber's smile sharpened into something almost wolfish. "I cannot imagine attending a ball without dancing to my heart's content, particularly when so many gentlemen are eager to take me to the dance floor."
"That does make me rather envious," Elain replied, giving Amber precisely what she wished to hear. Her smile remained gentle. "Still, I am content simply to attend such gatherings."
"Dancing with gentlemen is hardly the only delight of a ball, Amber. There is music to enjoy, exquisite dishes to taste, beautifully adorned halls to admire, and of course, conversation with many people," Rory said lightly though her eyes were anything but.
Elain had to fight the urge to smile. For all her mother's teachings, Rory still had a tendency to speak with a sharpness that could easily offend.
Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Cedric, the Blythmors' butler.
"The invitation for the first ball of Halcyon has arrived, milady." He presented the envelope to Cynthia.
"Which family is hosting it?" Lady Mary asked eagerly as Cynthia broke the seal.
The honor of hosting the first ball changed with each Halcyon, though it was always granted to one of the most prominent families.
A flicker of surprise crossed Cynthia's face as she read the name within.
"The Greyfords."
Lady Mary gasped. "Are you quite certain? Let me see!" She snatched the invitation from Cynthia's hands.
"How is that possible? They have not hosted a ball in their mansion for the past ten years!"
Puzzlement spread across the room, Elain included. She had, of course, heard of the Greyfords. Their name bore no ducal or marquessate title, not even that of an earl, yet they were regarded as one of the most influential families in Liandel, owing to their immense wealth. It was said that even the royal family treated them with a measure of caution.
Their estate lay in Hollowstone, the town in the capital where the wealthiest lived. Though members of the family occasionally appeared at social gatherings, they had not hosted a ball in over a decade. Many believed it was due to the passing of the family's matriarch, who had once presided over such events.
As for why that had suddenly changed…
Only the Greyfords knew.