The ballroom fell deathly silent.
Claudia's declaration echoed like a thunderclap, leaving the nobles stunned. A nobleman in the corner audibly choked on his champagne. Another fainted outright, his monocle clattering to the marble floor. Gasps rippled through the crowd like a well-orchestrated symphony of disbelief.
Vanitas stared down at Claudia, his golden eyes narrowing slightly. His expression didn't change much—stoic as ever—but there was an undeniable flicker of something in his gaze. Amusement? Shock? Maybe both.
Caelan, on the other hand, was having an existential crisis. "Excuse me, what?!" he blurted, forgetting all decorum. He looked around wildly as if expecting someone to pop out and yell, "Surprise! Just kidding!" No such luck.
The whispers surged like a tidal wave.
"Did she just pick him?"
"Unbelievable!"
"A lowborn! A dark mage! How scandalous!"
"Does she have a death wish?!"
