Chapter 18: An Unexpected Help

Lorraine winced, her skin prickling as she turned. Lord Cassian Duskewood, Lady Mirene’s husband, leered at her, his eyes glinting with predatory hunger. Lorraine rolled her eyes, disgust curling in her chest. Cassian had always seized every chance to touch her inappropriately, his hands lingering too long at court gatherings. Before the Imperial family, he’d slander Leroy and her father, Hadrian Arvand, with venomous jabs, but Lorraine knew the truth: he was her father’s lapdog, a spineless opportunist whose livelihood hinged on currying favor. He must have caught wind of Hadrian’s scheme to wed Elyse to Leroy, emboldening him to corner her in this crowded ballroom, under her father’s own roof. His lecherous hand slid from her waist to her lower back, his breath hot as he leaned close. "I don’t believe in curses," he murmured, his voice oily, dripping with intent. "All I see is an attractive woman I want..." He paused, letting the words hang like a taunt. His sycophants guffawed, their laughter sharp and cruel, mocking the "Silent Crown" while her husband stood mere steps away. "To dance with," Cassian added, his smirk a blade. No one intervened. Murmurs of the "Silent Crown’s curse" rippled through the crowd, noblewomen whispering behind their fans. Lady Mirene glared at her husband, her face twisted as if she’d stepped in filth, but she stayed silent. Lorraine’s eyes darted to Leroy, expecting his protection. Her heart sank... he was gone, vanished from Elyse’s side, his golden hair and emerald-pin braid no longer visible in the chandelier’s glow. Had he stood by her, as a husband should, would she be enduring this shame? She used to think that she was facing it all because her husband was not with her. But now... what use was his presence? What was he protecting by staying away from her? A raw, unnamed fury snapped inside her, burning through her veins. Her skin crawled under Cassian’s touch, but she wasn’t helpless. She’d survived alone her whole life, shielding herself from Vaeloria’s cruelties. Before she could deploy her poison, Prince Damian stepped forward, his slender frame radiating quiet resolve. "I asked her first," he said, his voice steady, cutting through the tension. The court mocked his effeminate grace, yet he alone acted with honor. Like a man should. Cassian’s expression darkened with defiance from an unexpected source, his hand tightening as he confronted Damian, his voice rising in challenge. Lorraine seized the distraction, slipping through the crowd, her navy gown blending into the ballroom’s shadows. She wasn’t going to stand there as others gawked at her. Her work was done. The courtesans’ whispers had sown discord, rattling her father’s alliances. But her hands trembled, Cassian’s touch lingering like a stain on her. She couldn’t stay, not with her heart pounding and her pride wounded. Emma followed, moving like a shadow, her steps as silent as Lorraine’s own. At the ballroom’s edge, Lorraine waved her back, craving solitude. She knew this mansion’s secrets from years of navigating its venom. The garden called her; a sanctuary of quiet amid the storm. Leaving Emma behind, she walked alone into the dark. She strode toward the dilapidated garden in the back, her Vyrnshade-tinted lips pressed tight, her icy-blue eyes burning with resolve. A rustle in a dark alley halted her. She paused, then stepped into the shadows. Two figures in black emerged—her shinobis, her most trusted shadow soldiers, their eyes gleaming with unspoken loyalty. Eighteen months ago, Lorraine had stumbled upon a girl in Vaeloria’s underbelly, her delicate frame out of place among the red-light district’s squalor. Sensing her plight, Lorraine had hidden her from traffickers. Days later, the girl’s kin found her—a noble daughter from a distant kingdom, betrothed to its crown prince, stolen by her family’s enemies. Her clan, skilled shinobis, swore fealty to Lorraine, their gratitude boundless for saving their future. Unlike Vaelorians, whose loyalty always had a price, these shadow warriors asked no questions. Masters of stealth, poisons, and silent warfare, they offered her their deadly skills, just because she showed grace to one of their own, once. She trusted them utterly, a rare bond in her world of betrayal. Her hands moved swiftly, signing precise instructions. She wanted Lord Cassian humiliated, his disgrace a public wound, better still, at her father’s ball, where it would fuel her ambitions. Yes, she was ready to leave this life behind, but not before making those who wronged her pay. Her heart hardened; she’d care for nothing but her vengeance now. The shinobis bowed deeply, their forms dissolving into the darkness like smoke, ready to execute her will. Postponing her visit to the garden, Lorriane walked back to the ballroom. After all, it would be a shame if she didn’t watch Lord Cassian getting humiliated. She needed to nail into everyone’s heart that anyone who touches her will pay for it dearly. ----- Elyse barely registered the commotion with Cassian, her focus shattered when she noticed Leroy’s absence. She glimpsed him at the ballroom’s edge, his golden hair catching the chandeliers’ light, the braids’ emerald pin glinting like green fire. She hurried after him, forcing a smile as noblewomen whispered about her being abandoned on the dance floor. Head high, she moved as if Leroy were escorting her, certain he still desired her. Lorraine was a mere substitute, married only because Elyse had been unavailable. Perhaps he resented her two sons, or feared the scandal of choosing her now. They needed to talk, to rekindle what once was. Outside the ballroom, Leroy had vanished into the mansion’s corridors. Elyse searched, her heart fluttering with anticipation. He must be waiting in some secluded corner, ready to confess his longing, perhaps to beg for her hand. She giggled inwardly, picturing the proud prince kneeling before her, his golden hair swaying in the breeze as he pleaded. She’d make him work for her love; nothing would come easy. After all, women needed to be courted, right? Her search led to a shadowed hall, where she stopped cold. "Doesn’t that belong to my father’s by-blow?" she sneered, her voice dripping venom. Emma stood alone, her face half-hidden in the dim light, her posture tense. Elyse approached, her silk gown rustling like a serpent’s hiss, a cruel smile curling her lips. She had found her stress relief. She could play with it until Leroy comes back to beg her.