Chapter Text
“Society papers
1st of April of 1811
Esteemed members of the ton,
Despite a rather tarnishing week of constant drizzle and gloom, London may have finally been blessed with good luck by the newest arrival of three distinguished young ladies, who seem to have brought the country’s good weather with them. Today’s protagonists are none other than the three daughters of the honourable Viscount Archeron, who made their awaited return to London yesterday morning.
As all of you must remember, the family retreated to the country more than a year and a half ago to mourn the sudden death of the Viscountess Amelia Archeron, the late wife of the Viscount. After the tragic event, London didn’t expect to see the Archeron family for the duration of their yearly long mourning period, but it seems the wait is finally over! It appears the country didn’t only bring peace and quiet to the Archeron family, but also some interesting events that I ought to share with you all.
As of last month, the youngest of the sisters, Miss Feyre Archeron, seems to be engaged to none other than the Duke Rhysand of Velaris. The couple first met at a soirée that took place three months ago in one of the country states of Lady Morrigan Beaumont, Marchioness of Winchester, widow of the late Marquess of Winchester. Some say this union was quite the scandal back in the country, for Miss Feyre was also the object of interest of Lord Tamlin Springwell, whose marriage proposal was apparently rejected shortly before our couple got engaged. Lord Tamlin was spending some time in the country with his very close friend, Lord Lucien Lightwood, the Archeron’s distant cousin and son to the second marriage of the former Duchess of Autumn, now Lady Lightwood. It is Mr. Lucien who is set to inherit the Viscount title if Lord Archeron were to pass (which we of course hope is very far into the future), and who was spending time with the family for reasons we will mention farther below. Apparently, it was Mr. Lucien who introduced Lord Springwell to the lady, but after the rejection and consequently loss to the Duke (we all know about the long dispute between the Nightfall and Springwell families over some colliding terrains), many witnesses claim he retreated back to his country state, the striking Springwell Manor, and refuses to go back into society. Remember gentlemen; that’s not how you handle a rejection, for you risk translating your embarrassment to the remaining ladies of the ton, who might deem you undesirable.
Going back to Mr. Lightwood, there’s a rumour going around of a possible engagement between him and Miss Elain Archeron, the second daughter of the Viscount. It seems the Viscount is not unaware of his title situation, and since he cannot produce another male heir (unless he marries for a second time, which looks very unlikely), he deemed it most sensible to engage one of his two remaining daughters to his cousin.
Not much is known of the young ladies since the last time we saw them, only of their striking beauty and good manners, specially the above mentioned Miss Elain, who appears to have grown into an unnatural beauty that led her to have not only one, but three marriage proposals since she was introduced into society 2 seasons ago —all rejected, as it appears. Could her beauty be the reason why the Viscount chose her for the engagement to Mr. Lightwood? And what does the lady at hand have to say of the situation? For three marriage rejections could only be explained by one reason that most ladies of the ton would agree on for themselves: finding a love match. This is all mere speculation, of course, but it is us who must decide whether we believe this or not with the knowledge we already have.
As of the eldest daughter, Mrs. Nesta Archeron, she has presumably caught the attention of the current Duke of Autumn, Lord Eris Vanserra, the half-brother of Mr. Lightwood, with whom he shares a mother. What an interesting family tree seems to be in development, don’t you agree? However, if Mrs. Archeron is interested in the Duke or not is completely unknown, as she is well remembered for her unapproachable nature. This author must desperately express its opinion on the subject, and urge Miss Nesta to latch on that opportunity before her third season out comes around, with the prospect of spinsterhood not far behind.
As a final piece of gossip, since the Duke and Miss Archeron’s wedding seems to be taking place in London, it is not unlikely to expect that your Grace will travel accompanied by his two younger brothers, Mr. Cassian and Mr. Azriel Nightfall, two of the most eligible bachelors of the ton, who went back to their country states at the end of last season and haven’t been seen in the city since. Therefore, ladies; pick up your best ball gowns, polish your shoes, practice your steps and get ready, because this season promises to bring exciting prospects ahead of us.”
Elain put down the gossip pamphlet and sighed. How could they know all of those things about them? And what‘s worse, they were all true! She knew the servants liked to gossip and share secrets, but she wasn’t aware of just how fast rumours spread in London. They’d arrived in the city the day prior: one day ago, one day! And everybody knew everything about them already! Things travelled so much more quietly back in the country, she knew the newest gossip one week after it had died down, and nobody seemed to mind it one bit. Maybe it was her fault for getting so used to the slow life of the countryside so soon, but one year and nine months was a long time for a young lady.
“Elain Archeron, I hope that paper you’re holding’s not a gossip pamphlet” gasped Nesta, who’d suddenly stormed into the drawing room. They stared at each other for a few seconds, making Elain feel like a deer facing a wolf as Nesta’s eyes seemed to debate between reading the paper or running back out of the room. She jumped in surprise as her sister finally approached her and snatched the pamphlet from her hands, devouring the words on the text. Elain watched in awe as Nesta walked anxiously up and down the room like a hurricane, not losing her focus for a second. Nesta’s fiery nature was very hard to look away from, and Elain always wondered whether one day flames would come out of her fingers.
“I knew it!” Nesta cried, her head thrown back in frustration, “I knew they’d start talking about us the moment we stepped in London”.
“It’s not that bad” Elain said, trying to come up with something that would calm her sister down (an impossible task, if you were to ask her), “they at least didn’t make anything up”.
“Easy for you to say! They didn’t call you a spinster did they?” She said, folding the paper between her hands and throwing it to the ground.
“Don’t worry about that Ness, I bet all they’ll talk about is Feyre’s wedding. She’s marrying a duke after all!” Elain knew it was the wrong thing to say the moment the words left her mouth. Nesta laughed with exasperation and threw herself onto the sofa.
“And what do you think they’ll say when they find out I might reject a duke myself!” She covered her face with her hands and folded into herself in embarrassment. Elain giggled; Nesta could be so melodramatic sometimes. “But I’d rather marry a stone than that creep.”
“Look, if they have to talk about one of the two of us getting engaged, they’ll talk about me that’s for sure.” Nesta put her hands down and her eyes flashed with pain when they locked with hers.
“I can’t believe dad wants to marry you to that man.” Her sister said. Elain smiled bitterly and looked out of the window, just in time to see a bird land on one of the huge branches of the magnolia tree from their patio. If only she could be that bird, free of responsibility, free of expectations.
“It’s my own fault,” she said “if I hadn’t refused Lord Brompton, Lord Cavendish and Lord Drummond, dad wouldn’t have felt obliged to consider Lord Lightwood’s proposal.” Nesta’s fire was back in her gaze, and she sat back up straight, just like their mother used to when she was upset.
“What were you supposed to do, marry two old creeps and a total stranger? You weren’t even properly introduced when the last one declared he loved you for all the town to hear!” Elain crunched her nose in cringe at the memory of Lord Drummond on his knees in front of a room full of people.
“Lord Lightwood isn’t so bad in comparison” she claimed. She’d met the man three months ago, when their father had written to him in relation to the title inheritance. He was a kind young man, with very good manners and quite a handsome face too. But, when Elain had spent some time alone with him, she’d quickly realised just how incompatible they were. The silence between them was awkward, they couldn’t fill it with conversation for they had nothing in common, and she knew Mr. Lightwood had no real interest in what she had to say and was only being polite when they conversed. But, if she were to reject a proposal again, it would reflect badly upon her family, and maybe ruin her reputation once and for all, and she knew her dad wouldn’t let it slide again. He’d always been a good dad, a way better parent than what their mother had been, but Elain knew his kindness had reached its limit. If they were to call off their deal now, it would become too big of a scandal, even if they were about to be related to a Duke. Especially since they were about to be related to a duke.
“He’s as insipid as a lettuce leaf” Nesta declared, and Elain couldn’t help but giggle. Nesta’s maid entered the room right then, carrying a tray of biscuits and tea and thankfully driving the topic away: Elain was always helpful to have an excuse not to talk about her feelings, a wonderfully useful trait she’d gotten from her father. As the maid laid the tray down on the table, her sister stood up and pointed an accusatory finger towards her, who stared back in confusion.
“Gwyneth if I catch you spreading any rumours outside of this house I swear I’ll take your maid privileges away”. Elain knew the privileges Nesta was referring to were the afternoon card games the two sometimes shared, so she wasn’t surprised to see the horrified expression on Gwyneth‘s face. Since her mother’s passing, the family’s relationship with their servants had become very close, for they didn’t have much to do in the middle of the wilderness except attend one soirée a month, so the three sisters had each formed a bond with their personal maids.
Speaking of the devil, Elain’s own maids, Nuala and Cerridwen, must have been waiting for Elain to get ready for tonight’s ball, the first all the family would be attending since their mother’s passing, and where they’d introduce their union with the Duke and his family. It was in part a relief and a curse to be back in society. Even though Elain wasn’t much of an extrovert herself and she generally disliked big social settings, she did miss the companionship society could sometimes bring. And for once, she didn’t have to hang out with Mr. Lightwood and could enjoy her freedom before their engagement was settled.
“I must prepare myself for tonight, we’ll meet at seven”. She said, standing up and going for the door. Nesta nodded, and Elain could feel her sad eyes following her even outside of the room. Elain clenched her fists; she didn’t want anybody pitying her, especially her sisters. If she had to marry Mr. Lightwood for the good of the family, she would do it. As her mother used to say, it was their duty as women to marry for social status first and foremost, and as much as it pained her, she was starting to accept a love match was now very out of her reach.
Her twin maids were in fact waiting in her room, three dresses neatly placed on her bed and an array of brushes and accessories stacked on her vanity:
“We weren’t sure which color you’d like to wear tonight, so we prepared the newest pink, purple and blue gowns, since they’re your favorite colours, Miss.”
Elain stroke the blue velvet of one of the dresses and smiled, the cloth tickling her skin.
“Thank you, I think I’ll go with the cobalt one.” The twins nodded and Cerridwen picked up the other dresses, setting them aside and hanging the blue gown from the nearest closet. Nuala sat her on the vanity and picked up a hair brush, gently undoing her current hairstyle.
“I know high ups are in fashion, but since you prefer it loose, maybe we could do a braided bun with the rest of your curls down your back and framing your face.” Nuala said, showing her what she meant. Elain agreed: one of her favourite traits was her waist long hair, and she always mourned it when she had to style it up. One of the things she’d enjoyed the most about the country (and would definitely miss) was the wide variety of hairstyles she could try without the pressure of the latest fashion making them unsuitable.
As Nuala began working on her hair, Cerridwen applied blush on her cheeks and lip stain on her mouth, and by the time they were finished, it was almost seven. Elain looked at herself in the mirror and gasped; her hair was beautifully braided, long curls going down her neck and back, like a cascade of brown. Nuala had sprinkled some white flowers and pearls across the top of her hair and bun, making her look sort of faerie-like. By the time she’d gotten into her ball gown, she felt like a princess.
“You’ve outdone yourselves,” she told her maids, and saw them smile through the mirror. She turned around and hugged them individually, making sure not to tangle her hair with their attire. “Thank you.”
“You must uphold your reputation as the prettiest girl in London.” Said Cerridwen, and Elain blushed. She wasn’t really aware of her beauty, the only times she cared to think about it was when other people pointed it out or when she looked in the mirror. It was a privilege in itself, she supposed, that she didn’t have to worry about her appearance.
A faint knock on the door made them all turn around, and her youngest sister entered the room with a big smile on her face. If Elain was the prettiest girl in London, Feyre must have been a close second, because she looked absolutely stunning. Her hair was pinned up on top of her hair in very intricate braids and curls, little stars sprinkled all over it like Elain’s own flowers. Her dress was a vibrant shade of silver, a mirror to the silvery blue of her eyes, decorated with tiny rhinestones that made it shine like the night sky of the country.
“You look beautiful.” Elain said. She could see a spark behind her sister’s eyes, a halo-like glow on her face that could only be explained by love. She was very happy for her sister’s bliss, but she also couldn’t help the pang of jealousy that stung her heart.
“Likewise.” Feyre answered, and covered Elain’s hands with hers. “Are you ready for today?” Her sister’s inquisitive gaze made it apparent that she knew exactly every emotion behind Elain’s smile. Are you okay with facing society again? Are you okay with being the centre of attention? Are you okay with this being one of your last nights of freedom before you marry a man you cannot love?, she seemed to ask her. So Elain nodded, squishing her hands and making sure her sister understood that this night was hers to enjoy.
“Don’t worry about me tonight, Feyre,” she assured her, “I am happy as long as you are, and this is your night.” Feyre smiled and hugged her tightly. She felt her maids quietly leave the room, their steps almost invisible against the soft carpet. If she wasn’t so used to their stealth, she would have just missed them.
“Let's go, then.” Her sister said, and guided her outside by the hand. Their father was waiting for them by the door, dressed in a rather old-fashioned two piece purplish suit. He’d started dressing funny since their mother’s passing. She’d assumed it was because his pain blinded him, but she’d soon realized it was the lack of their mother’s guidance that led him to pick wrong. His daughters had tried to help him before, but he always shut them down (Elain assumed it was from embarrassment). Nevertheless, his handsome face made up for his poor fashion taste, and nobody ever seemed to notice his clothes. She assumed that the privileges of being a man helped his case too. As they walked down the stairs, his gentle eyes smiled at them, and he offered Feyre a hand.
“You look stunning, girls.” He said. Feyre kissed his cheek and they walked together outside, arms linked. Elain breathed in one more time before stepping out, and when she looked back, Nesta’s encouraging smile helped her feet leave the house.
Once in the carriage, the three sisters radiated excitement. Nesta, with her red gown and long hair tightly styled on top of her head, couldn’t stop biting her lower lip, the only sign of anxiety she ever let herself slip. Feyre was telling them all about what (and who) to expect of the night, and Elain had to confess she’d zoned out the moment names had started to be thrown into the conversation. She suddenly realised their mother’s absence was very noticeable, since she always knew how to converse on these topics and drive the attention to herself, making it easier for Elain to daydream. She thought of how much she would have liked to meet Lady Amren Fairfax tonight, the hostess of the first ball of the season, a very important event many would pay to host. Elain remembered the lady very well, one of the few people that made quite an impression on her. She was a very influential woman of the ton; a small, beautiful black haired woman with an intense gaze and a sharp tongue, some claiming she was close friends with the queen herself.
“Are Mr. Rhysand’s brothers coming tonight?” Nesta asked suddenly, catching all of Elain’s attention and bringing her out of her head. She’d never met the gentlemen, only knew them by what her sister had told them, so she was very curious to see if they were as Feyre’d described.
“Ah! Yes! Thank you for asking Ness, I almost forgot to tell you.” Feyre replied enthusiastically. Elain didn’t know why, but her heart started beating faster with the confirmation of their attendance. “As I’ve told you already, they’re very nice men. Mr. Cassian’s a little goofy, but he’s the funniest gentleman I’ve ever met. Nesta, I think he may drive you a little crazy.”
Nesta snorted, looking out of the carriage’s window for a few seconds, and Elain knew she was trying to hide just how interested she was in him. Her cheeks had gone a little red, and Elain suppressed a giggle.
“And Mr. Azriel…” Feyre began, her voice closing on a dreamy note. Elain looked at her curiously, feeling more and more intrigued by the second. She’d heard about the man before, and Feyre always talked about him as if he was a god among men. “He really is the most handsome man I’ve ever met. After my Rhys, of course.” Her sister giggled and covered her lips with her hand, the moon framing her side profile with blue light. “They’re very nice men, are they not, father?” Feyre asked.
Their dad, who’d been looking out the window, uninterested by the conversation, blinked back into focus and nodded. It must have been hard for him, too, to jump back into society without their mother. Granted, they’d technically been back in the country once their mourning period was over, but the only events they’d attended had been soirées. The only time they’d been to a bigger gathering was the Marchioness’ ball, where Feyre’d met the Duke and his brothers. Elain and Nesta had skipped that ball because her sister had a cold, and she’d stayed home to take care of her. They’d only met the Duke after that, and Elain remembered him well. Her sister was right, he must be the most handsome man she’d ever met. He was tall and lean, a perfectly sculptured face with jet black hair and a pair of eyes so blue they looked violet. He was very nice too, and had an outgoing and sharp personality that made them all instantly comfortable around him. He was a lot like her sister. If his personality and looks were an indicator of his brothers’, then they must be very nice too.
“Yes, they’re very decent gentlemen. I’ve only heard wonders about them among the men's spheres.” Feyre smiled, satisfied.
“Do you know their ages?” Elain asked, curious.
“Not their exact ages. Since Rhys is the oldest and he’s a couple of years older than Nesta, I assume Cassian must be around Nesta’s age, and Azriel around your age, Elain.” Feyre replied, lost in thought. Elain nodded, pleasantly surprised. She was now used to seeing older gentlemen in balls, since the countryside was a destination generally more acclaimed by more mature men. So, since they liked to spend time in the countryside, she’d assumed the Duke and his brothers would be older than their range of age. Albeit, Rhysand didn’t look older than 25, but she’d learned that looks could be deceiving.
As it was a short distance between their house and Lady Fairfax’s manor, Elain soon started seeing the imposing walls approaching from a distance, flashing its light between the tree branches. As they lined up the entrance, a long gravel path framed by trees and illuminated by long, elegant lamps welcomed a large tail of carriages, a huge fountain facing the big entrance of the house and marking their stop. Elain stared in awe at the gardens that surrounded the house. Big patches of grass exhibited very curious silhouettes holding foliages of flowers of all shapes and colours, very exotic looking bushes and plants circling them like guards protecting a treasure. Elain could recognise some of the flowers, but not even her extensive plant study could hold some of the rarest looking plants. She sighed, remembering their beautifully large gardens at their country manor, the only time her father had let her actively participate in plant care. She’d now been forced to revive her clandestine space hidden in her room, a small rack attached to the wall of her walk-in closet facing the window, a space she’d used since she was a young girl to keep some of her favorite plants. Only Nuala, Cerridwen and her sisters were aware of it. She also had other potted plants scattered around her room, but not as big as her hidden ones. If her mother saw her now she’d probably chop her hands off.
“I forgot you didn’t get to see the Fairfax manor before mother died” Nesta told her sisters. She’d debuted a year before them, and since their mother died by the middle of their season, they’d retreated to the country before the end of it. Therefore, they’d missed a lot of events.
Feyre was looking at Elain with intent;
“Great gardens, aren’t they?” She said. Elain nodded enthusiastically. “I bet you’d love to steal a plant or two”. Her sisters laughed, but they didn’t know Elain genuinely carried a pair of small scissors everywhere she went just in case a plant caught her attention, so she could cut a small branch or leaf to maybe get to grow it at home. She gave a sly look at his dad, who was yet again looking out of the window, lost in thought, and then pressed her fingers against the small purse, feeling the scissors beneath the cloth. She smiled.
By then, the carriage was already circling the fountain, and when they finally stepped outside and entered the manor, Elain felt exuberant. The house was decorated very elegantly, carpets and ribbons of purple velvet were covering the walls and floors, and big chandeliers were hanging from the ceiling, making it look like the night sky. To get to the ballroom they had to walk through enormous walls filled with floor to ceiling paintings, and Elain found herself stopping from time to time to admire them. She looked at Feyre, who’d always been very enthusiastic and talented whenever art was concerned, and saw her tearing up at the sight of the canvas.
“I’m glad to see that someone appreciates my art collection” a female voice said behind them. They all turned around to see the lady of the house standing before them, dressed in a beautiful purple dress, the same tone as the decoration, her hair styled up in elegant twirls. They all courtesied politely, and Lady Fairfax approached them.
“You must be the Archeron family. I remember you from two years ago.” She said, looking at Nesta. Her sister nodded, head high and shoulders back, making the woman smile. “Your beauty precedes you, girls, and I see it’s not for nothing”. She looked each of them in the eye, and then her gaze landed on Elain. “With that face I could have married you to a prince, if you were not engaged to that cousin of yours, of course. Miss. Elain, I assume.” Elain nodded, feeling her cheeks heat up. Lady Fairfax made a grim gesture with her mouth and looked at their father, who simply stared back and bowed his head in a greeting.
“Thank you for the compliment, Lady Fairfax.” Elain said, bowing a second time. The woman, who was still glaring at their father, put her attention back on the sisters, a smile warming her expression.
“Thank you for inviting us tonight, it’s a great honor” Feyre said.
“Of course!” Lady Amren clasped Feyre’s hands in between hers. “You’re the main event, dear.” She said, winking at her. Suddenly, her eyes darted behind Feyre’s back, and a big smile bloomed in her face. “Speaking of the devil…”
Elain turned around and saw the Duke walking towards them, a tall man with broad shoulders and black, longer hair right beside him. He also had a very handsome face, with a strong jaw and hazel eyes that glimmered with mischief. He looked similar to the Duke, but he possessed a carefree attitude in his walk that was very different from the refined posture of Mr. Rhysand. Elain assumed he was Mr. Cassian Nightfall. She gazed subtly at Nesta, but if her sister was wondering about him, she didn’t let it slip behind her stone cold expression.
“Lord Archeron. Ladies.” Said the Duke, bowing politely. They all bowed back, and he patted his brother on the shoulder, pointing at them with his hand. “This is my brother, Cassian Nightfall. Cassian, these are Feyre’s sisters, Miss Nesta and Miss. Elain Archeron.”
A grin appeared on his face as he bowed his head to them again, a hand on his back.
“Enchanted to meet you.” He purred. He had a deep voice, almost like a bass, and Elain could immediately tell he always got what he wanted. His eyes were focused on Nesta now, who simply stared back, a polite smile on her lips, and Elain wondered if she would be what he’d go for next.
“And where in the Devil is your other brother?” Lady Amren said, and her tone was so casual Elain felt genuine surprise. They must have been quite close, then, for her to address them so casually. ”I know he doesn’t like these kinds of rendevouz, but I didn’t think he’d actually dare to skip one of my invitations.”
”He’s definetly coming, Amren, he would never skip one of your parties.” The Duke’s name dropping was as confirmation of their friendship as Lady Fairfax’ broad smile, which was a rare sight, if rumors were correct.
“He’s just late because he insisted on going on a stroll before coming here, even though we all told him he would be late.” Cassian concluded, rolling his eyes. Lady Fairfax didn’t look surprised by his words, she simply shrugged her shoulders and waved her hand;
“He simply must act like a tragic hero every chance he gets.” She said, and Cassian threw his head back and laughed out loud. She felt Nesta jump in surprise beside her, as well as all the ladies around them, whose eyes sparked with interest as they realized who they were looking at. The brothers’ casual attitude made Elain forget they were one of the most influential families in town, and with two of them being single… It wouldn’t be long before they’d start approaching them like bees to honey. The Duke must have thought the same, because he went to his fiance and offered her his arm. Her sister’s eyes glowed with love as she greeted him.
“It’s time to leave the hall to the newcomers, don’t you think?” He said, urging them along, and they all walked behind him. “Plus, Cassian, you’re scaring my future sisters.”
His brother’s eyes glimmered with amusement as he offered his arm to Lady Fairfax.
“They’re simply surprised because I didn’t tell them you’re childhood friends with Mrs. Fairfax.” Feyre said. It made sense then, that they were so close. She stood next to Nesta, grabbing her arm, and her sister squished her forearm back and breathed in deeply. Their father remained at the tail of the party, distracted by the art pieces.
The ballroom was as opulent as the rest of the house, gold shimmer covering every piece of furniture. Young couples were already dancing at the centre of the floor, and servants with trays of punch strolled around the room with the balance of a juggling gymnast.
Elain wasn’t done sizing up the room when someone approached her from behind, tapping her on the shoulder with a finger. “Excuse me” a male voice said, making her flinch. They all turned around to see a tall man with downturned eyes and very short hair, who was looking directly at Elain. “Do you have a free spot on your dance card?”
Elain stared back in surprise. They’d quite literally just entered the room, and the man hadn’t even introduced himself! He must have realised it, too, because he suddenly bowed, making the hems of his pants flung upward, too short for the length of his legs. She suppressed a smile.
“Where are my manners?” He said, head still down. “I’m Lord Arnold Fills, pleasure to meet you.”
Elain looked back at the rest of her party, but they all seemed as surprised as her. She searched for her father, but he’d seemingly lost himself among the crowd, probably speaking to one of his acquaintances and leaving the chaperoning to the Duke. Right then, another gentleman approached them too, a smaller, moon-faced middle aged man.
“Your Grace, Lord Nightfall, Lady Fairfax.” He began, bowing his head three times. The other man looked at him with annoyance. “Please introduce me to this exquisite young lady.” He said, looking directly at Elain’s bust. She took a step back, grimacing.
“Me too, please. I’d love to fill a spot on your dance card.” Said another high pitched voice, coming from a guy too young to be called a man. Soon, a circle of gentlemen surrounded them, and Elain’s heart started beating too fast as she noticed other ladies looking at her with disgust and anger in their eyes.
“Sorry, gentlemen” the Duke said out of nowhere, raising his voice over the men with a very imposing tone. The gentlemen stopped their blabber immediately. She felt his hand on her back, comforting and protecting her. “My future sister has her next few dances promised to my brothers and I. You of course understand we must present ourselves as family.” The men started nodding and agreeing, taking a step back. “You may ask again later, one by one.”
Those last three words came out rather angrily, a serious expression covering his handsome features. The men nodded again and scattered back into the crowd, looking scared.
Elain sighed in relief as she saw them disappear between the rest of the people. She felt her muscles unclenching slowly, now realising how tense she’d been.
“Thank you so much, your Grace.” She almost whispered, bowing.
“Please, call me Rhys.” He said, smiling warmly at her. She was so thankful and overwhelmed she could have started crying right then and there. Both her sisters were by her side now, Nesta grabbing her hand and Feyre asking if she was okay. She nodded at them, and Lady Amren stepped in front of her, putting a warm hand on her cheek.
“Head up, gorgeous.” She said, making her blush. “Don’t let these vipers see your affliction. You’re better than them.” Lady Amren smiled mischievously, and Elain smiled back, noticing her face burning up.
“Allow me.” Lord Cassian said, then, offering her his arm. She looked at Nesta, who nodded vigorously and urged her along. As she accepted Cassian’s offer, she saw the Duke and her sister pair up again, and the four of them went to the dance floor together.
“You’re pretty popular aren’t you?” Cassian said, as they lined up on the dance floor facing each other.
“It appears so.” She replied, feeling a little out of place in front of all those people.
“But you don’t like it, don't you.” It wasn’t a question, but rather a statement, and she immediately felt embarrassed. She looked him in the eye, but Lord Cassian’s warm smile showed her he wasn’t judging her, but trying to understand her. She relaxed again as they came closer to start the minuet.
“It’s not really my favorite place to be.” She said, as they twirled in between another couple. They stepped apart and then back together, joining their right hands and walking side by side slowly.
“Don’t need to feel embarrassed, miss Elain.” He said. “It’s a common feeling, even among men. Not me, of course.” He joked, raising his head pompously, making her laugh. He smiled back.
“I haven’t met a single gentleman who doesn’t like a social event.” She replied, suspiciously. “What better place to show off their fortunes and pawn on a lady?”
Mr Cassian laughed out loud again, making their surrounding couples stare back in annoyance. However, he looked so carefree that Elain couldn’t feel uncomfortable.
“I must admit you might be right.” He said thoughtfully. They twirled again, and then joined hands for a second time. “But you haven’t met my brother yet, he might change your mind.” Elain’s ears perked up at that, and she couldn’t resist asking about him.
“The tragic hero?” She said, remembering Lady Amren’s joke from before. She made his dance partner laugh for a second time, and she started feeling better by the second, some of the fright from before gone.
“Yes, the tragic hero.” Mr. Cassian made her spin as they came closer to the end of the line of couples, just to dance back to their original spot.
“I must admit I’m very curious to meet him, I’ve heard a lot about him.” She confessed. Mr. Cassian looked at her with a gleam in his eyes, and he flashed her a smile she couldn’t decipher.
“You’ll get along well, I’m sure.” He said, still smiling mysteriously. Elain’s heart beat louder, and she blushed without meaning to. “And, speaking of siblings…” he continued, and she immediately knew where the conversation was heading. They came closer again as they approached the end of the routine. “What’s your sister’s deal?”
“Feyre?” She said, on purpose, blinking innocently. Cassian snorted and smiled.
“Miss Nesta, of course.” They reached the end of the dance and bowed politely. Elain was still smiling at him.
“Invite her to dance and you’ll see” she said. Cassian smiled sideways and nodded. She thanked him for dancing with her and they went back to their spot in the crowd. Her sister was talking animatedly with Miss Fairfax, who seemed to be very comfortable around Nesta. Their father was still nowhere to be seen, but Feyre and the Duke joined them then, smiling from ear to ear and radiating joy.
“Miss Nesta.” Mr. Cassian said, stepping towards her. Her sister gasped in surprise as she hadn’t seen them approach. Her face momentarily blushed, but she regained her composure in a second and adopted her neutral attitude from before.
“Lord Cassian” she replied, looking him in the eye. His smile grew as if in a challenge, and Elain peeked at his brother, who was observing them with amusement.
“Will you join me for the next dance?” Mr. Cassian asked.
“Of course, my lord.” Her sister bowed in agreement, and he offered her his hand. As she grabbed it, something charged went through their fingers, and Elain could feel the sting of jealousy again. She moved her eyes from them, feeling horrible for her jealousy towards her sister. She stared at the floor, fidgeting with the hem of her gloves, wishing her circumstances were different once more.
“Miss Elain.” The Duke was suddenly in front of her, a hand reaching out to Elain. “Will you dance with me this time?” She didn’t know how, but he seemed to sense when something was amiss with her. The Duke’s encouraging smile warmed her up, and although she didn’t feel like exposing herself in front of the crowd again, she accepted.
“Excuse me for what I’m about to ask,” the Duke began, guiding her towards the floor, “but, how long have you been engaged to Lord Lightwood?”
Elain stared back, dumbfounded. She wasn’t expecting him to ask her about his fiancé-to-be.
“We aren’t officially engaged yet” she confessed, as the music began “but the ‘deal’ was formalised two weeks ago.”
The Duke seemed lost in thought as he analysed her words.
“And he hasn’t proposed to you yet?”
“No, not yet.” The Duke raised his brows, and smiled. “Is it strange that he hasn’t?” As she asked that question, she realised it was actually kind of strange that despite already having his father’s blessing and the promise of a title and fortune, he hadn’t yet asked her to marry him.
“It is, indeed…” the Duke murmured as they approached each other. “Something seems to be holding him back as much as it does you”. As they spun and twirled, Elain’s ears got overwhelmed with a buzz of excitement. Could it be true? Could he be having second thoughts? “This is just an assumption but…” continued the Duke, “another woman, perhaps?”
Elain’s mouth gaped like a fish at his boldness. He was being very straightforward, but she imagined a Duke could get a pass on these subjects. He could be right though, but; “why doesn’t he marry her, then?”
“A number of reasons” the music was reaching its end again, the time having passed in the blink of an eye. “Social status, family dispute, family disapproval… I’ve heard his older brother is a handful.” She agreed on that, but didn’t dare to say so. “I don’t mean to overstep, but, allow me to give you a piece of advice.” Elain swallowed as she waited for the Duke to conclude. He was looking at her with a mysterious glint in his expression, and she momentarily felt overexposed. “You oughta have an honest conversation with him. And maybe report back to me, I could always be of help, you never know.” He bowed deeply as the music stopped, and when he straightened again, he was smiling lovingly at her. She smiled back, a spark of something good growing in her heart. Hope, perhaps? She shook it off; she couldn’t start building expectations that may not be met. However, she was grateful for the Duke’s words, since they’d taken her one step out of her dark headspace.
“It was a pleasure conversing with you” the Duke said, winking at her. He kissed her hand as they stepped aside and went back to Feyre, but Elain didn’t join them. She remained by the wall, observing Nesta and Mr. Cassian smiling at each other, back on the dance floor; they seemed to be getting along. Elain was very curious to see them together, but didn’t feel like rubbing salt to her wound, so she camouflaged herself in the crowd. She zigzagged in between couples and ladies, trying to avoid being seen by the gentlemen that were previously interested in her, as they seemed to be looking for her. She made eye contact with the young one, but managed to slip away from his sight as she merged herself with a large group of ladies who were all dressed in different hues of blue.
Once she made sure she was unnoticeable, she breathed out through her nose and scanned the room. Elain saw a glint from the corner of her eye, and as she turned, she noticed she was very close to a wall with big windows and two glass doors framing them: the doors to the garden. Excited, she sped towards it and opened the doors, checking that nobody followed her. Once outside, the cold air of the night caressed her bare skin, sending a shiver down her spine. She breathed in and out, filling her lungs and shaking off the sticky feeling a room full of people builds on your skin. The moon was as bright as a bonfire that night, no star managing to outshine it on the vast blue ocean of the sky. Its light covered the garden and made it enchanting, so she scanned it with excitement. She was atop a flight of stairs, standing on a big porch that faced a small patch of grass with flowers and a big lake in the distance. The light from the ballroom was enough to cover the whole porch, making it easy for her to look around and see what she could discover. On her right were an array of potted plants of all shapes and colours, and she couldn’t resist inspecting them. She bent down and started analysing each in detail: daisies, hydrangeas, dahlias, lilies and patriots, wisterias, cacti of all sorts… She recognised most of the flowers and plants, but there was one specific flower she couldn’t put a name on. It was a strange sort of spiky flower, with a round core surrounded by several white and violet petals and an array of small green straws in the middle of it. She looked left and right before palming her purse and grabbing the scissors out. Carefully, she cut one of the flower’s branches and wrapped it on a handkerchief that she saved atop the rest of her things in the purse.
“You know, I don’t think our hostess would mind it if you grabbed the whole thing.” A male voice said behind her. Elain jumped out of her skin, tripping with her own dress as she tried to stand in a hurry. She felt her body sway to the side, her hair on her face and her leg twisted between her dress and the flower pot. Hadn’t she just checked if someone else was outside? Where had he come from? Elain closed her eyes and waited for her arms to collide with the floor, but it never came. A hand grabbed her arm and pushed her forward against a warm, solid body that embraced her as carefully as it could without smashing her face first. She looked up in shock, heat starting to fill her cheeks with embarrassment. But, when she locked eyes with the stranger, she forgot what she was embarrassed about. His face, lit up by the yellow hue of the party, was the most handsome face she’d ever seen. Sharp cheekbones, golden skin and full lips framed his harmonized features, his hair as black as a raven’s feathers as it fell over his forehead, kissing his long, dark lashes and hazel eyes. They stared at each other in perfect silence for what felt like forever, his eyes wide open and his mouth agape: a reflection of her own, Elain thought. A few more seconds passed before he regained his senses and stepped back, releasing her from his embrace, careful not to unbalance her, and bowing deeply.
“My most sincere apologies.” He pleaded, “I did not mean to frighten you.” Elain remained silent against her will, for her tongue seemed to have been tangled with her words. Her heart was beating very loudly against her ribs, and she could only hear its echo in her ears. She realised she was glaring as he stood again and stared back, awkwardly. She cleared her throat and tried to regain her control over her vocal chords.
“It’s okay,” she finally said, “I only hope I didn’t mess with your suit.” He raised his brows, checking his clothes with a quick glance. They remained perfectly neat on his tall body, a body that looked very lean and toned behind the black fabric.
“Don’t worry, they’re as boring as before.” He gave her a side smile, and she blushed. “Is your dress fine, though? You stepped on it.” She had indeed. Elain looked at the hems and sighed in relief when she confirmed it hadn’t torn. It had, however, been covered by a thin layer of dirt right where she’d stepped on it. It wasn’t very noticeable though, after she’d shaken it with her hand.
“Everything fixed.” Elain said as she flashed him a quick smile. His eyes darted down to her hand, which was still holding the scissors, and she quickly hid it behind her back. “Please don’t tell on me, I wasn’t stealing, I swear.” She grabbed the purse she’d left on the ground and sneaked the scissors back inside, careful not to move the handkerchief. “I was just… borrowing. A small seed.” He blinked in surprise and smiled, stepping around her to see the flower.
“As I was saying, I don’t think the lady of the house would mind you taking the whole pot, if you wanted to.” He analysed her expression as he turned to her and lowered his head. “But your secret is safe with me,” Elain was about to sigh in relief, but he continued, “if you promise not to tell on me, either.” She raised her brows and leaned her head to the side, curiously.
“And what is it that you have done?” He looked a little embarrassed as he stroked his neck.
“Be here, of course.” He glanced quickly through the glass doors, but nobody was near enough to see them. “So improper for a gentleman to avoid his duty as an esteemed member of the ton.” Elain snorted a laugh and started pacing, with him mirroring her steps from the other side of the porch.
“If that’s a crime, then I’m guilty too.” She confessed. “I thought I was excited to be back here, but five minutes were enough to prove me wrong.”
He grinned, nodding in agreement. “Were the sorbettes not to your liking?” He began, amused, as they circled each other. “Or maybe the gowns were not up to your taste?”
“Definetly the gowns” she answered, continuing the joke in a tone of sufficiency, “not nearly pompous enough for me. And don’t get me started on the music…”
“Right, one of the violins was definitely off pitch.”
“Exactly.” She said, and flashed him one of the biggest smiles she’d conjured in quite a while. He smiled right back at her, his pearly teeth peeking behind his lips. “And what is your name, mysterious sir? You might as well have leaped off a shadow. I made sure nobody was out here, and yet, you appeared.” He nodded distractedly, crossing his arms over his chest. Elain tried not to look at his biceps as he did it.
“I can make myself quite unnoticeable if I want to.” She definitely agreed. “But I do have to say the garden’s shadows played in my favor tonight.” She observed him quietly and said nothing, locking their eyes as she waited for him to introduce himself. God was he handsome; his features looked so delicate, Elain thought the best adjective to describe him was “pretty”. And he was very tall too, at least two heads taller than Elain, with broad shoulders and arms. She blinked out of her stupor and blushed deeply. This was so embarrassing! She’d been blatantly staring at him, such an improper behavior for a lady… He cleared his throat and opened his mouth, and Elain was convinced he was going to call her out for her lack of modesty, but he said instead:
“Sorry, I was supposed to introduce myself.” He approached her and delicately grabbed her hand, taking it to his lips without breaking their eye contact. He smelled of roses and something spicy, like cinnamon. He closed his eyes as he kissed her knuckles, his long lashes casting shadows on his cheekbones. As he opened his eyes, as golden as a cat’s under the bright light of the candlelight, he said: “Azriel Nightfall, at your service.”