The next few days passed in a blur. Seventeen maintained her delicate balancing act—staying close to Claus, fostering trust with Amelia, and keeping Draco at arm's length. But the tension between her and Draco had reached a tipping point, and she could feel the storm brewing just beneath the surface. The time for passive maneuvering was over.
The evening of the Imperial Ball arrived, a grand celebration held in the heart of Imperious to honor the peace treaty between the twelve districts, one that accepted Imperious and the sole Royal Capital and the Villarreal as the monarchs. But she knew better, peace wasn't necessarily what was happening between all districts, which she planned to take advantage of when the opportunity came.
The ballroom was a dazzling display of golden chandeliers, velvet drapes, and royal tapestries. The elite of the archipelago filled the room, their voices blending into a cacophony of laughter and polite conversation. Seventeen entered alongside Claus, dressed in a striking baby blue and gold gown that hugged her frame perfectly, her long golden hair swept into an elegant updo. Claus had been the one to get the dress done for her, mixing one of the main colors of Loveliar, Serena's district, with the gold of his.
He had gotten her gown to be personally made by the most famous fashion designer of the Imperious district, Aurora Lyle, known for her luxurious designs that blend tradition and modernity, one of the main responsible for boosting Imperious' fashion industry. To have a gown made from Le Aurora, her brand, was hard if you aren't an heir, but it was easy for Claus, the Crown Prince of Zodiac, too easy.
She looked every bit the part of Serena D'Angelo, the graceful healer, but her mind was razor-sharp beneath the mask.
Claus, on the other hand, was fully dressed in his districts' colors, a glamorous mix of orange, royal purple, and gold, a crown adorning his golden locks. He was far from he type, she had never liked blondes, that was why she had made her Serena persona blonde, it was far from who she actually was. But it was undeniable how Claus and Serena looked good together. That was her intent, even if she didn't fancy him in any way, it was the best for her plan.
From across the ballroom, she spotted Draco, standing near a group of diplomats. He wore a black, tailored suit that contrasted starkly with his pale skin and sharp features, the raven wavy black hair was unusually styled back. It was a stark distinction from his parents and sister, all dressed in pastel pink, light blue, and soft grays, the colors of Whiteland, it made him stand out. His ice blue eyes, however, were locked on her the moment she entered the room. The intensity in his gaze sent a shiver down her spine.
The kind of shiver she had never felt before by anyone other than him, which in her opinion, was a catastrophic problem. One that she was determined to ignore. She couldn't jeopardize her plan because of stupid and mundane physical reactions that her body felt for the son of two of the people at fault for her younger siblings' brutal deaths.
["His parents murdered them."] She reminded herself. Claus' parents were also two of the main culprits, but her body felt nothing for him. He was stupidly harmless. ["Remember Ten. Remember Thirteen, Fifteen, Eleven, Nineteen, remember Fourteen. Remember the pain, the void their brutal broadcasted slaughter left in your life, in Noah's, in Lilith's. Don't you dare to forget."]
"Shall we dance?" Claus asked, his voice cutting through her thoughts.
Seventeen—no, Serena—smiled, turning to him. "Of course."
They moved onto the dance floor, joining the swirl of couples as the grandiose orchestra began to play a waltz, a characteristic music style from Imperious, not her type. Claus was a skilled dancer, his movements fluid and confident. Seventeen let him lead, her focus half on him and half on Draco's presence at the edge of her awareness, unable to ignore him.
"Serena," Claus murmured as they twirled across the floor, "I have to say, you've been a wonderful companion these past few days. I've enjoyed our time together."
["He better not confess to me right now."] Seventeen met his gaze, her smile warm but calculated. "The feeling is mutual, Your Highness. You've been most kind to me."
Claus's eyes gleamed with something more than just casual interest. "I was wondering... after the ball, perhaps we could find a quieter place to talk? I'd love to get to know you better, away from all this noise."
Before Seventeen could respond, a shadow loomed over them. Draco had appeared beside them, his expression cold as he looked at his cousin.
"Mind if I cut in?" Draco's voice was smooth, but there was an unmistakable edge to it, and Seventeen hated how relieved she felt for his interruption in that exact moment.
Claus hesitated, glancing between Seventeen and Draco. "Of course," he said, stepping back reluctantly. "I'll see you later, Serena."
Draco took Claus's place, his hand slipping around Seventeen's waist as they began to dance, his grip tighter than it should be, their height difference making both have to bend their necks to look at each other, even with her in the high heels that Claus had gotten her, probably to make their own height difference smaller. The air between them crackled with tension, and for a moment, neither spoke. The music swelled around them, but it felt distant, drowned out by the unspoken words hanging in the air.
"You've been busy," Draco finally said, his voice low and quiet. His grip on her waist was firm, not painful, but enough to remind her of the power he held.
"So have you," Seventeen replied, her tone light despite the tension. "You seem to be enjoying the ball."
Draco's icy gaze bore into hers. "I don't like games, Serena. And I especially don't like being lied to."
Seventeen's heart skipped a beat, but she kept her expression calm. "I'm not sure what you mean."
Draco's eyes narrowed, his grip tightening just slightly. "I think you know exactly what I mean."
She felt her breath catching. Seventeen held his gaze, refusing to flinch. "If you have something to say, Draco, say it. I'm not one for cryptic accusations."
For a moment, Draco didn't respond, the silence stretching between them like a taut wire. Then, suddenly, he spun her around, pulling her close enough that their faces were only inches apart. His breath was warm against her skin, but his eyes were as ice as the hypnotizing color suggested.
"I don't know who you really are," he murmured, his voice so low that only she could hear. "But I intend to find out. And when I do..."
Seventeen's pulse raced, but she forced herself to remain composed. "You're making a mistake," she whispered back, her voice equally quiet. "I'm exactly who I say I am."
Draco's eyes darkened, and for a moment, Seventeen thought he might say more. But then the music ended, and the spell was broken. He released her, stepping back with a cold, unreadable expression.
"Enjoy the rest of your evening, Serena," he said, his voice distant.
Without another word, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd.
Seventeen stood there for a moment, her heart pounding in her chest, doing her best not to show how he had left her struggling with her heavy breathing. The game had just become far more dangerous, and Draco was no longer playing by the rules. She would have to be more careful, more cunning, if she was going to stay ahead of him, all while being careful not to get too close.
Getting too close from Draco of all, would be more dangerous than anyone else. She couldn't afford that, couldn't afford him of becoming some kind of distraction to her plans.
But as she watched him vanish into the sea of people, a new thought crept into her mind—one that both thrilled and terrified her.
He's not the only one hunting for the truth.
Seventeen's lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile. She wasn't just playing a game. She was shaping the board itself.