Evalie's pov:
As I stand in front of the gilded mirror, I can't help but feel a sense of resentment bubbling within me. I can't help but roll my eyes at the thought of being paraded around like some prized peacock. And don't even get me started on those creepy old men leering at me under their bushy eyebrows. Seriously, could they at least try to hide it?
Every inch of this opulent dress feels like a trap, constricting my movements and pulling at my skin with every step I take. The corset cinches my waist so tightly that I can hardly breathe, let alone enjoy myself. My fingers itch to rip off the layers of fabric and escape into the night, but I know that doing so would only bring more disapproval from my old man.
Despite my disdain for the strict confines of courtly attire, I must admit that it looks good on me. The rich hues of the fabric enhance my fair complexion, and the intricate embroidery adds a touch of elegance to my ensemble. Even as I despise the discomfort it brings me, I can't deny the allure of my own beauty.
With a resigned sigh, I force myself to plaster on a polite smile and endure the endless stream of compliments and pleasantries that will inevitably come my way. As a princess, it is my duty to uphold the facade of grace and poise, no matter how much I despise it deep down inside.
With a sigh, I realize that the only bright spot in this dismal existence is the ability to communicate with that dead-eye bastard. It's strangely entertaining to see him squirm as I continue to pester him. And I have a strong intuition that sticking close to him will lead to some exciting experiences. Life in this place has been painfully dull, devoid of any excitement , with the only piece of fun when Victor comes to train me...
The sound of footsteps breaks through the silence behind me and I turn to see my younger brother approaching. His calculating eyes size me up and a forced smile is plastered on his face. "You are looking lovely, sister. The diamond of our family," he says with a sickeningly sweet tone.
I raise an eyebrow, able to see the faint glimmer of irritation on his forehead. "What do you want, Lucke?" I ask, already annoyed by his presence.
"Why can't a brother be nice to his older sister?" he responds, feigning interest.
I remain silent, continuing to stare at him until he speaks again with his same fake smile. "Tell me, sister. Do you have someone to accompany you? Perhaps for a dance?"
"Why do you care?" I say, struggling to hold back the urge to spit in his eye. Among my two brothers, Lucke is the one I despise the most. I can at least tolerate Anthony; I know when I talk to him there's no hidden agenda.
"Well, there is a brave and handsome gentleman who would love the honor of meeting you. He's the son of the Marquise of Valzia. Would you kindly grant him a dance?"
"You can tell him he can go fuck himself, and while you're at it, you can go too. Stupid bastard," I retort as I turn away from him. Before walking away, I smirked as I see him seeth with anger.
The despicable bastard was always scheming to recruit new members for his faction, using me as bait. My father used to intervene, but in recent months I noticed a change in him. He seemed distant and lost, often gazing up at the sky with a troubled look. Lucke took advantage of this and flaunted his arrogance, knowing my father wouldn't interfere. But I refused to be manipulated, not this time or any other time.
"Stop playing around , it's time to go," my father's deep voice broke through the tension. As I turned to face him, I saw a new intensity in his gaze.
That's new...
According to the court servants that are on my payroll, he met with Favian and emerged from the room with some changes in his demeanor. The once-tired king appeared more alert and assertive, with a newfound purpose in his step. Strange whispers of Favian also detesting tea have also arrived to my ears . It seems that the bastard is not only clever with words but also skilled in persuasion. I can't help but wonder what promises he made to my father, what seeds of hope he planted in his mind.
Pushing aside the thought that had been lingering in my mind, I followed father's confident strides as he led the way with Sir Alearic trailing behind. The imposing wooden door stood before us, and the silent giant effortlessly pushed it open, inviting us into the grand hall beyond.
The hall was adorned with chandeliers that dripped with sparkling crystals,elegant tapestries depicting scenes of mythical creatures adorned the walls, and the marble floors gleamed under the soft candlelight. It was a sight to behold, but one that held little interest for me.
I needed to speak to him about father, to ask him some questions to satisfy my curiosity . Yet amongst the sea of nobles and dignitaries mingling in false sincerity and hidden agendas, finding him proved difficult.
I could feel the curious gazes of our guests falling on us as we made our way through the crowd. Some looked at father , before their eyes fell on me and then a bit lower to my chest.But I paid them no mind as my determined search for Favian continued. And finally,I spotted him.
He stood awkwardly on the sidelines, his raven locks tumbling over half of his face. Clearly , he didn't give a fig about the royal family, as he shamelessly stuffed his face with trays of food and drink from a servant. And when he finally deigned to acknowledge our presence, it was only after he had taken his fill. But what could I do but laugh? Even before the feast began, he managed to make me snort with laughter and bit my cheek to fight it down , as I watched him choking on a piece of honeyed bread.