"Ephyra Allen," she said smoothly, her voice low and steady.
The man's eyes flicked briefly to a list on his clipboard. "Ah, of course. Right this way, Mrs. Allen." He signaled to an attendant, who stepped forward to escort them inside.
The grand doors of the ballroom swung open, revealing a dazzling spectacle. The room shimmered with light from crystal chandeliers, their brilliance reflecting off the gilded walls and mirrored accents. Music from a live orchestra filled the air—a haunting melody that underscored the elegant chaos of the gathering. Guests in elaborate masks mingled, their laughter and conversation weaving a tapestry of sound.
Ephyra stepped into the ballroom, her gaze sweeping across the scene. She could feel the weight of eyes on her. The whispers intensified as she descended the staircase into the main hall, the soft train of her gown trailing behind her like a comet's tail.
