"I have already eaten and drunk enough for the night, so please don't worry," Elain told Matheu after he offered to fetch her some treats or another refreshment.
She glanced toward her aunt and felt thankful that Cynthia seemed too occupied to notice her speaking with Matheu.
Meanwhile, the ladies nearby gossiped upon seeing Elain with the duke's son.
"Isn't she Lord Blythmor's distant niece? I heard she grew up sickly that's why she doesn't attend society events."
"She looks as dull as beige wallpaper. Why is Mr. Everard even talking to her?"
"Surely it's out of pity. You know Mr. Everard is famous for his kindness. He is even kind to stray dogs, so it makes sense he took pity on someone standing alone in the corner because no one wants to dance with her or even speak to her."
Though Elain couldn't hear what they were saying, she knew they must be gossiping about her from their disdainful glances. She fought the urge to glare at them.
She didn't want to spark any rumors or tarnish Matheu's reputation. So she thought of ending their conversation with the excuse of going to the bathroom, then leaving the ballroom to wait for the Blythmor family in the carriage.
But before she could say anything, she caught a glimpse of Rory's peach-colored gown as she slipped toward the east exit of the ballroom.
Elain wasn't entirely sure as some guests obscured her view, but if she had seen correctly, a man followed shortly after.
Her eyes narrowed, recalling that day in Lilymist when Rory had left her without a word, rushing toward that alley.
Perhaps she was mistaken then… but what were the odds that Rory was meeting someone in private again? If it involved a man, then it was something she should not be doing, especially since her betrothal had already been decided even if not yet announced.
"Apologies, Mr. Everard. I suddenly feel unwell. I need to go to the bathroom. Please excuse me," she said, hurrying away, failing to notice the concern on Matheu's face.
Before Matheu could respond, Elain was already several steps away and soon vanished from his sight.
He stared after her, the urge to follow tugging at him, wanting to ensure she was alright. But he knew it would be improper and she might not welcome it.
Elain left the ballroom, taking the same path Rory had. A long hallway stretched before her, and she walked straight ahead until she reached another passage that led outside the mansion.
She moved quickly, careful not to make unnecessary noise.
The lanterns along the walls cast her shadow behind her, and the farther she went, the more the sounds of the ballroom faded into a distant murmur.
Once outside, she noticed a pavilion in the distance, and beyond it, a garden filled with beautiful flowers.
She paused, scanning the surroundings for any sign of Rory. Where had she gone?
There were no voices, no movement. The seats in the pavilion were empty, and beyond it lay only the dark garden.
Had Rory gone there? Or taken another direction after coming this far?
To her left, Elain spotted a shadowed pathway. It was her first time in this mansion and she had no idea where it led. But curiosity stirred within her, and wondering if Rory had taken that path, she stepped into the darkness where the shadows seemed to wait for her.
If it weren't for the faint light of the moon and the dazzling stars overhead, she wouldn't have dared to walk through this dark part of the estate, as she had always felt uneasy in the darkness.
But her concern for her cousin was too strong to ignore.
She knew Rory was smart, yet she could be clumsy and impulsive at times. And she had been quite vocal about not wanting her parents to decide her marriage. Elain admired her for that, but there were certain lines she must not cross, or she would end up hurt in the end.
Elain reached the end of the pathway and found herself at the eastern front of the mansion where, in the distance, stood the gargantuan statue of a wyvern.
Closer to her was another fountain, a smaller one. Instead of something monstrous, it bore the figure of an angel… or what was meant to be one, if not for its uncanny wings.
They were not feathery. They resembled a dragon's wings. And the statue's eyes were veiled with a strip of carved stone, like a blindfold.
"Looks like someone has lost her way."
Elain nearly yelped as the voice came from behind her. Her eyes widened the moment she realized who it was.
Thankfully, she managed to swallow the impolite words that rose to her lips, biting down on her tongue instead. This man had a talent for startling her whenever their paths crossed.
But she must not forget he was Rafelius Greyford, one of the most powerful men in high society.
She lowered her head at once, offering a bow as her heart faltered in her chest.
Embarrassment and annoyance tangled within her. Embarrassment, for the pride she had shown before knowing his identity, and annoyance, for the man himself. She did not like the way he had inquired after her health earlier, as though he held even the slightest concern.
"I would have offered to show you the estate myself, had you expressed a desire for a tour," he said, watching her, his silver eyes gleaming in the shadows.
It made him look more sinister, like a devious being waiting for the perfect prey.
The rumors came rushing back to her, whispers of the Greyfords not being entirely human.
A shiver ran down her spine. She was alone with him, far from the others.
"I apologize if I have taken such liberties," she replied, straightening her back, though her gaze remained lowered. "My apologies, milord."
She could feel his stare on her, yet she didn't dare lift her eyes.
"I shall return inside—"
"Are you acting so meek now that you know who I am?"
Elain resisted the urge to mutter a curse under her breath, the kind she only allowed herself in private moments of frustration. Why could he not simply leave her be? Did he truly take such pleasure in provoking her?
"If I have offended you during our previous encounters, then I offer my sincerest apologies, Mr. Greyford. I hope you will not take it to heart."
"Look at me when you speak to me, Lady Elain."