The sound of applause filled the ballroom as the final notes of the music faded, and the crowd slowly dispersed, their attention returning to the social niceties of the evening. Seventeen remained perfectly composed, her smile soft as she let go of Draco's hand and gave a polite nod of gratitude. Every move was deliberate, calculated, as she maintained the image of Serena D'Angelo, the unassuming healer from Loveliar.
"Thank you for the dance," she said, her voice warm but not too familiar, carefully toeing the line between friendly and distant.
Draco simply inclined his head, his gaze unreadable. "The pleasure was mine."
["Was it?"] Seventeen thought sarcastically, her smile widening as if she found the entire exchange perfectly pleasant. Inside, her mind raced with a thousand thoughts, each one analyzing his words, his tone, the tension in his jaw. Draco had given her very little to work with during the dance, but that in itself was revealing. He was holding something back, something important, and she was determined to find out what it was.
As he turned to walk away, she felt the familiar tug of curiosity pulling at her, urging her to follow. But Seventeen knew better than to press too hard, too fast. Draco was suspicious of her, and pushing him now would only make him more guarded. No, she needed to let him come to her, to make him believe that she was no threat.
["Let him think he's winning,"] she reminded herself. ["People like Draco love control, but the key is making him feel like he's holding the strings while I quietly pull them from behind."]
With a soft sigh, Seventeen turned her attention back to the room. The gala was still in full swing, and there were plenty of other targets to keep her occupied. She spotted Light Valiant standing near one of the banquet tables, her posture relaxed but alert as she spoke with a few military officials. Light was another puzzle that intrigued Seventeen—a warrior born of fire and strength, yet with a quiet sadness that she hid beneath her brash exterior.
["Perhaps a little friendly conversation would do her some good,"] Seventeen mused, already crafting her approach.
As she made her way across the room, weaving through the crowd with ease, she allowed herself a moment to reflect on the evening's progress. So far, everything had gone according to plan. She had established herself as Serena, ingratiating herself with the six. She had learned small but significant details about their relationships, their personalities, and, most importantly, their weaknesses.
Claus's attraction to her had been obvious from the moment they met, his eyes lingering just a little too long, his smiles a little too easy. He was the easiest to read—charming, confident, and vulnerable in his desire for approval. ["He'll be useful,"] she thought, already considering how she might manipulate his feelings to her advantage.
Amelia, on the other hand, was a tougher nut to crack. Her bisexuality, which Seventeen had observed from the way she subtly flirted with both men and women at the gala, made her an interesting variable. She was fiercely independent, and her loyalty to Sablina was clear. But loyalty can be twisted, Seventeen reminded herself. If she could plant the right seeds of doubt, Amelia might begin to question who truly had her best interests at heart.
Sablina was an enigma as well. Stoic, aloof, and fiercely protective of Amelia, the Virgo-born woman kept her distance from most people. But Seventeen had seen the way Sablina's eyes softened whenever she looked at Amelia, and that softness was a potential crack in her armor.
And then there was Hunter. The Sagittarius-born leader was a wildcard—confident, impulsive, and driven by a desire for adventure. He was less guarded than the others, more willing to speak his mind, but Seventeen knew better than to take his openness at face value. People like Hunter could be dangerous when underestimated.
Seventeen reached the banquet table just as Light turned to pour herself a drink. The Aries-born warrior glanced up, her sharp gaze flickering with recognition as Seventeen approached.
"Enjoying the gala?" Seventeen asked, her voice light and friendly, slipping into Serena's bubbly persona with ease.
Light gave a small smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "As much as one can enjoy these sorts of things," she replied, her tone casual but with a hint of weariness.
Seventeen nodded sympathetically, her expression softening. "I understand completely. It can all feel so... overwhelming, can't it? So many people, so much formality. I much prefer a quiet evening myself."
Light raised an eyebrow, her smile widening just a fraction. "A quiet evening, huh? Doesn't seem like the kind of thing someone like you would enjoy."
Seventeen let out a light laugh, shaking her head. "I'm not sure what you mean by 'someone like me,' but I assure you, I'm not as exciting as I might seem."
That earned her a full smile from Light, though it was tinged with amusement. "Right. Because a doctor who gets hired at the most prestigious hospital in Downtown Zodiac is boring."
Seventeen shrugged, playing along. "It's not as glamorous as it sounds. Long hours, endless paperwork, and not nearly as much excitement as you'd think."
Light chuckled, but there was something guarded in her gaze, as if she wasn't entirely convinced. ["Smart girl,"] Seventeen thought, but outwardly she kept her expression light.
"Well," Light said after a pause, "I suppose we all have our own version of excitement. For me, it's fighting. For you, it's probably something more... peaceful."
["If only you knew,"] Seventeen mused silently, though she offered a warm smile. "I suppose that's true. Though I have to admit, I've always admired warriors like you. You have such strength, such purpose. It's inspiring."
The compliment was calculated, but genuine enough to seem sincere. Light's expression softened just a bit, and Seventeen knew she had struck the right chord.
"It's not always as glamorous as it seems," Light replied quietly, her gaze distant for a moment. "Sometimes, it's just about surviving."
There it was—that flicker of sadness, the vulnerability Seventeen had been waiting for. She took a small step closer, her voice lowering just slightly, as if sharing something personal. "I understand. It's the same in my line of work. We fight to save lives, but sometimes... sometimes it's not enough."
Light glanced at her, something unreadable passing across her face. For a moment, Seventeen wondered if she had pushed too far, but then Light's expression softened again.
"You're right," she said quietly, almost to herself. "Sometimes it's not enough."
They stood in silence for a moment, the noise of the gala fading into the background. Seventeen could feel the shift in the air between them, the subtle opening of trust that she had been waiting for. Light was starting to see her as more than just a healer from Loveliar—she was seeing her as someone who understood, someone who could relate.
And that was exactly what Seventeen needed.
As the evening wore on, Seventeen continued to weave her web, moving from conversation to conversation with practiced ease. Each interaction was carefully crafted, each word chosen with precision. By the time the gala began to wind down, she had planted seeds of doubt, curiosity, and trust in the minds of the six.
But there was still more work to be done.
As she left the ballroom and made her way back to her quarters, Seventeen allowed herself a moment of reflection. The evening had been a success, but it was only the beginning. The six were strong, but they were not invincible. They had their weaknesses, their secrets, and Seventeen would exploit every last one of them.
["Let them believe I'm Serena for now,"] she thought as she reached her room, closing the door behind her. ["Soon enough, they'll know who I really am. But by then, it'll be too late."]
With a small, satisfied smile, Seventeen shed the mask of Serena and allowed herself to slip back into her true self—calculating, ruthless, and determined.
The game had only just begun.