"Does this dress make me look fat?"
Pamela heard chatters as peered back into the brightly lit ballroom, searching for Elizabeth amongst the sea of swirling skirts and excited chatter. Relief washed over her as she spotted her, deep in conversation with a pair of giggling girls.
"There you are!" Pamela called out, weaving through the throng of women adorned in extravagant black gowns.
Elizabeth's eyes met hers, and with a quick "Excuse me, ladies," she extricated herself from the conversation and turned to greet Pamela.
A surprised laugh escaped Elizabeth's lips as she took in Pamela's outfit. "Damnit, Pam, I genuinely thought the gown was a limited edition designer piece!" she exclaimed, amusement dancing in her eyes. "It suits you, you have to admit."
Just as Pamela was about to reply, a booming voice cut through the soft music, making Elizabeth grab Pamela's hand in a sudden burst of excitement. "Come on!" she shrieked, her voice barely above a whisper. "He's here!"
Pamela couldn't help but stifle a sigh. Being yanked through crowds a second time wasn't exactly her idea of fun, but Elizabeth's enthusiasm was infectious. The short black wig perched atop Elizabeth's head which was identical to hers, a stark contrast to her usual short, mouse brown hair, was a clear giveaway to her excitement.
"Excuse me…" As Elizabeth dragged Pamela through the throng of women, "Oh, pardon me…" Pamela felt a tug on her necklace. Turning to investigate, she found a young woman in a barely-there dress, her blonde hair hopelessly tangled in the delicate necklace.
"Is everything alright?" Elizabeth asked, noticing Pamela's sudden pause. Glancing down, she understood the situation immediately.
A frustrated mutter escaped the blonde's lips. "Oh, for goodness sake, not again!" she grumbled, tugging impatiently at the tangled mess. In her haste, she yanked with excessive force, causing a few strands of hair to rip free along with the necklace, which clattered to the floor with a dull thud.
"Here now, that's very rude!" Elizabeth interjected, her voice laced with indignation. The blonde woman, however, simply shrugged and sashayed away without a backward glance.
Elizabeth, never one to back down from a fight, muttered under her breath, loud enough for the retreating blonde to hear, "Of course it's a fake blonde, why else would it get stuck?"
Seeing Pamela's frown as she bent down to retrieve the necklace, Elizabeth offered a helping hand. "Here, let me."
Pamela passed her the necklace, but before Elizabeth could clasp it back on, another voice boomed over the speakers.
"Ladies and gentlemen, presenting the Lord of the Manor!"
The pronouncement sent the assembled women into a frenzy, their excitement turning almost violent as they jostled for a better view, effectively separating Pamela and Elizabeth in the process.
"Not this again," Pamela muttered, exasperated by the sudden surge of aggression. After all, it was just one man!
"Lord Cyprian O'Girri," the voice continued.
Pamela, momentarily forgotten at the back of the surging crowd, craned her neck to see what all the fuss was about. Through the throng, she glimpsed a figure in a black tuxedo, the same man from the staircase earlier, still adorned with a bat-shaped mask. He entered the room, and behind him were two other masked companions.
A jolt of recognition shot through her. One of the men was the same one who had handed her the mysterious file with the half mask. His eyes met hers for a fleeting moment, a hint of a smile playing on his lips beneath the mask. The crowd roared, obscuring his face once more.
Pamela watched with a mixture of amusement and apprehension as the women lined up for their turn to toast with Lord Cyprian. She pushed her way through the throng, determined to reach Elizabeth, but found her already weaving through the crowd towards the masked Lord.
Despite the distance, Pamela could catch snippets of their conversation. Elizabeth's voice, laced with obvious admiration, drifted through the air. Then, a single phrase snagged Pamela's attention.
"That necklace," Lord Cyprian rumbled, his voice surprisingly deep and almost unsettling. "It's...yours?"
Pamela's heart skipped a beat. Elizabeth was wearing her necklace.
"Yes," Elizabeth replied without hesitation.
Lord Cyprian's gaze flickered from the necklace to her face, his eyes lingering intently. "It looks exquisite on you."
A goofy grin spread across Elizabeth's face. "Well, thank you, kind sir."
"And what might your name be again?"
"Elizabeth. Elizabeth Brown," she chirped.
"Miss Elizabeth Brown. A delightful name, much like its owner."
Pamela watched a blush creep up Elizabeth's neck. More importantly, she noticed a stark difference in Lord Cyprian's interaction with Elizabeth compared to the other women. To them, he offered only curt smiles and nods, while with Elizabeth, he seemed genuinely engaged.
'This can't be good,' Pamela thought, surveying the room. The other women were practically daggers with their envious glares. It wouldn't be a stretch to imagine them wielding those daggers literally.
Just then, Lord Cyprian excused himself from Elizabeth and joined a group of men. Elizabeth scanned the room, her face lighting up when she spotted Pamela.
"He noticed my dress!" Elizabeth squealed, practically skipping towards Pamela. Grabbing her hand, she spun around, her voice barely a whisper. "He seemed really interested in me, Pamela! I knew you were right about that boutique. You're the best!"
She squeezed Pamela in a hug, her face radiating pure joy. Before Pamela could gather her thoughts, a resounding clinking of glasses silenced the room. All eyes turned towards the source. Lord Cyprian.
"May I have your attention, please?" he boomed, his voice instantly commanding silence. The only visible part of his face, besides his grey hair, were his eyes, which scanned the room with an intensity that sent shivers down Pamela's spine.
"I have an announcement to make, along with a toast." He raised his glass, his gaze sweeping the room once more. The silence in the hall was so thick you could practically cut it with a needle.
Anticipation crackled in the air as Lord Cyprian began to speak. "Returning to the country today has made me realize just how much I've missed it." He paused for a beat. "So, a toast to all of you, my loyal supporters. Your warm welcome has touched me deeply. It feels good to be back."
A wave of appreciative applause and smiles rippled through the crowd.
"Now, for a brief announcement before we continue the festivities." The silence returned, even more profound than before.
Lord Cyprian took a deep breath. "I'm getting married."
A collective gasp resonated through the room. As if that bombshell wasn't enough, he strode purposefully towards Elizabeth and took her hand.
"To Miss Elizabeth Brown, my future wife."
Elizabeth's surprise was evident, but as the paparazzi descended in a frenzy, a wide smile plastered itself onto her face. It seemed genuine, fuelled by pure happiness.
Pamela's reaction, however, was far from joyful. Unlike the other women, whose faces were etched with shock and heartbreak, Pamela felt a knot of unease tighten in her stomach. This wasn't a coincidence. Lord Cyprian hadn't just chosen Elizabeth out of a hundred women for no reason.
Whatever his motives were, Pamela sincerely hoped they weren't malicious. And she was determined to find out.
The following hours blurred into a haze of small talk, toasts, and forced smiles. Despite the announcement, a few audacious women still made their desires known, flirting shamelessly with Lord Cyprian. The drinks flowed freely, and by the time the first rays of dawn peeked through the windows, signalling 2:00 am, the party finally wound down.
Pamela, having stuck to a single drink all night, found herself playing nursemaid to a tipsy Elizabeth, who was now babbling incoherently. "G-get those w-women off him-m," she slurped.
With the help of a kind security guard, they managed to get Elizabeth into the car. Sliding into the driver's seat, Pamela wasted no time pulling away from the imposing mansion.
"I'm getting married. I'm sooo happy…"
Her initial instinct was to head back to her apartment, but a mumbled drunk comment from Elizabeth quickly changed her mind. The paparazzi would be swarming by dawn, it would be best she stayed with her dad.
As she drove straight to Mr Brown's house, her eyes kept squaring with reoccurring thoughts.