Everyone at the table stood up to welcome the Empire's sovereign.
"All hail the burning shield of Zadroth, King Gavriel Thornhart." The group said in unison while Gavriel got closer.
Florah walked stiffly behind the king, she was nervous to be in a room full of important people, she didn't know who they were but she could tell that they were not ordinary people by how they dressed and their mannerisms, so sophisticated and elegant.
She stopped sneaking glances at them when the king sat, and they did as well. She stood behind the king with her head slightly bowed, and her eyes lowered.
Confusion swarmed her mind, thinking whether to leave the man's side and let him attend to his guests or she should stay by his side.
She picked the latter, remembering his warning earlier in the night. A lot had happened today, escaping, getting kidnapped by witches, saved by the person she was running from , and she still didn't understand how it happened.
This was followed by indirectly getting forced to be part of a play that was for the Empire's highly regarded people.
And now, she stood in a room full of powerful people.
She regretted not listening to her friend. He always warned her not to go out of Dradfold without him by her side.
'I am sorry, Jer,' she thought regrettably.
On the other hand, Gavriel sat comfortably at the head of the table where he belonged.
He looked at everyone present and noticed three people to be missing. He looked at Lester, who just shrugged his shoulders in ignorance.
"My sincerest apologies for not waiting to receive all of you at the front door, my dear guests." Gavriel said, his voice laced with sarcasm, implying that he had better things to do than welcome people at the door of his castle.
Everyone at the table got the underlying meaning behind the King's words but simply brushed it off.
They knew how the man was, and it was a surprise that he actually came to meet them.
"It's nothing, Your Majesty, we are sure you had better things to do." Marquess Francis uttered, sparing a glance at the redhead standing behind the king.
Gavriel smirked, seeing the direction his uncle's eyes drifted to, though it was brief, but his sharp eyes still caught it.
"Well, I did uncle, but I am sure you among everyone else here understands that no matter how much a man has already, he will still strive to attain more and better." Gavriel said, looking at the blonde young lady sitting beside the Marquess, a chair after her brother.
The Marquess stared at his nephew, who he wished he had killed at birth. It wasn't that he hadn't tried, but the little maniac somehow survived all his attempts to push him to his death
His face was calm, ignoring the jab the boy took at his infidelity, but inside, only he knew how much he wished the so-called king to just die and rot ten feet into the ground.
All he had to do was be patient, knowing the plans he anticipated for so long had now commenced.
"Hahaha," laughing lightly, the Marquess said "well it is in a man's blood to always aim for something better than what he already has."
Gavriel raised his glass to his lips, sipping the blood, feeling it spread a sweet and sour flavour on his tongue. He neither agreed with his uncle nor did he oppose his words but simply ignored them.
"Am sure you have been very busy your highness, but I must say that the major preparations to the ball have already been done and only a few minor ones are left for everything to be perfect for the next midnight."
Lady Roselinda chimed in her face, brightening, showing her excitement for the ball.
"I am truly grateful, Auntie. I know those preparations will turn out well, given by the number of balls you attend in a year, I would be surprised if you knew nothing about decorating balls." Only Gavriel would praise and mock someone all at worse.
Roselinda smiled half heartedly, trying to ignore her nephew's insult, but her eyes that were staring daggers at him betrayed her.
"I have personally seen the decorations set for the ball, and I think mother has truly out done herself," Stacey said, trying to save her mother's face.
Roselinda smiled gratefully at her younger daughter, squeezing her hand lightly.
Caroline calmly watched the two in silence slowly sipping her wine. She was used to such a scene.
She looked at her cousin brother, the king, who seemed to enjoy aggravating her mother. This was something she always wondered why but simply ignored.
Her brother Stephen sat quietly beside her, which seemed unusual. His normal self would be making fun of his twin, who made her admiration for the Northern Duke very open, not to mention the outrageous dress she wore to a simple dinner.
Everyone at the table was basically royalty. Each one of them had ulterior motives for coming at the ball.
They hid behind smiles and politeness, ready to peel off their masks in order to achieve what they desired.