Cassandra and Rainne ascended the marble steps of the Clemonte estate, the air thick with the scent of roses and burning torches. The estate was more magnificent than Cassandra had expected—sprawling gardens lined with marble statues, grand columns rising into the night sky, and a pair of gilded doors that opened to the party inside. The sounds of laughter, clinking glasses, and soft music of violins floated through the air, masking the tension she could feel just beneath the surface.
Rainne, walking beside her, smoothed her midnight-blue gown, her blonde hair pulled up into an elegant twist. The flickering light from the torches caught in her green eyes as she glanced at Cassandra with a grin. "We look like we belong here," she whispered, her voice teasing but also filled with the underlying tension of the mission.
Cassandra, in her deep forest green dress that swept the ground as she moved, gave a faint smile but didn't take her eyes off the grand doors as they approached. Her olive skin glowed in the moonlight, and her long brown hair cascaded over her shoulders in soft waves. "Let's just hope we play our parts well enough."
They passed through the doors and into the estate, greeted by an opulent ballroom that glittered with chandeliers and polished marble floors. The crowd was just as extravagant—men and women dressed in the finest silks and brocades, their faces partially hidden behind elaborate masks. Some wore clothing that marked them as nobles from Liconermo, while others carried the unmistakable style of foreign lands—bright colors, intricate patterns, and jewels that caught the light with every movement.
Cassandra's eyes scanned the room, her senses heightened. It wasn't just a party; this was a gathering of power. People from all corners of the world had come here, each one playing their own game, each one hiding secrets behind polite smiles and laughter.
"There," Rainne murmured, nodding toward the far end of the ballroom.
Cassandra followed her gaze and immediately spotted him—Alastair Clemonte. He stood out among the sea of guests, not because of his grandeur, but because of his presence. He was tall, his olive skin contrasting with the raven-black hair that fell just above his shoulders. His pale blue eyes, sharp and observant, missed nothing, scanning the room with an ease that suggested he was always calculating, always planning. His full lips were set in a slight, confident smile as he spoke to the small group of people that had gathered around him.
Clemonte held a set of folders in his hand, which he kept close to his chest, occasionally opening one to glance at its contents as those around him spoke in hushed, frantic tones. The atmosphere around him was charged, and Cassandra could tell something important was happening. She nudged Rainne.
"That's him. Let's stay close," she said, her voice low.
Rainne nodded, her expression shifting from playful to serious. "I don't like the look of this. What's in those folders?"
"Information," Cassandra guessed. "Whatever it is, it's important enough to make powerful people nervous."
They moved carefully through the crowd, blending in as they navigated the throngs of nobles and diplomats. Cassandra kept her eyes on Clemonte, watching his every move. He was calm, almost too calm, while the others around him whispered anxiously. Something was happening, something they weren't privy to.
As they neared Clemonte, Cassandra caught snippets of conversation.
"… the creatures, they're getting closer."
"We can't afford to let this escalate."
"Dark wielders…"
"Too much…"
Clemonte's voice, smooth and unbothered, cut through the frantic murmurs. "I have everything under control. You'll all have what you need—just stay patient."
Rainne leaned in closer to Cassandra. "Did you hear that? They're talking about the wraiths."
Before Cassandra could respond, the atmosphere in the room shifted abruptly. A loud crack echoed through the ballroom, the sound of glass shattering, followed by a sudden, sharp scream from one of the guests.
Cassandra's hand went instinctively to the hidden dagger strapped to her thigh beneath her gown as the room descended into chaos. A gust of cold air rushed through the ballroom, extinguishing several candles and sending the crowd into a frenzied murmur.
"Rainne—stay close," Cassandra hissed, her eyes darting around the room for the source of the disturbance.
"Rainne-"