Chapter 73: A Closer Look

The Arvandel ballroom was filled with the clatter of silverware, the rustle of expensive fabrics, and the endless chatter of aristocrats determined to make themselves heard. Candle wax slowly gathered beneath the grand chandeliers, while a string quartet in the western corner played a cheerful tune that few guests seemed to pay any attention to.

Riven had little trouble making his way through the ballroom. People moved aside before he even reached them, leaving him a clear path through the crowd. Riella walked beside him with her usual quiet grace, her hands folded neatly over her pale lilac skirts. Between the two of them, they hardly needed to announce their arrival. Their presence alone was enough to draw everyone’s attention.

"Your Highness," a heavily built baron greeted them, bowing low with a little difficulty. "To have both the Crown Prince and Princess gracing House Arvandel tonight... truly, the Duke must feel as though the heavens themselves have smiled upon his estate."

Riven offered a diplomatic smile, the kind that reached his lips but stopped dead before it hit his eyes. "House Arvandel has always been a loyal supporter of the Crown, Baron. It is only fitting that we show our appreciation. Besides, the Duke’s cellar is notoriously difficult to replicate at the palace."

A round of polite laughter followed the Baron’s words, though it was clear enough that most of it came from a desire to please the Crown Prince.

Riella gave a brief nod, enduring the familiar exchange with the same pleasant expression she had worn at countless gatherings since childhood. She offered a few remarks about the unusually warm autumn weather and complimented the imported tapestries, leaving Riven to handle most of the conversation while her thoughts wandered elsewhere.

Naturally, it didn’t take long for the talk to curdle into gossip. High-society gatherings in the capital were essentially vast, glittering echo chambers where secrets went to be amplified, distorted, and served with dessert.

As a group of minor viscounts drifted away, a pair of sharp-tongued ladies nearby picked up a thread that had been buzzing through the room like a trapped blowfly ever since Lioren and Xavion had walked through the front doors.

"I still say it’s an insult to every eligible house in Werestia," one of them whispered behind a fan of black feathers. "The Grand Duke of Roscaire, the single most powerful military lord north of the capital, chains himself to a defeated Ostharian fallen general. Not a lady of noble birth, not even a useful political alliance from the other provinces. Just... him."

"Well, at first I assumed it was a temporary arrangement," her friend replied, leaning in so close their powdered wigs practically brushed. "A clever piece of royal theater to keep the peace after the treaty. But did you see them walk in tonight? The way they matched their tailoring? The way Roscaire looks at anyone who even glances in the Ostharian prince’s direction? The Duke seems rather protective of the prince."

Riella heard every single syllable. A twitch of her jaw betrayed the sudden, sharp pinch in her chest, not from jealousy, exactly, but from the dull, lingering ache of a bruised pride and the quiet humiliation of having once imagined she might hold a permanent place in Lioren’s fiercely guarded world.

She had made her peace with it, or at least she told herself she had, she had accepted that Lioren’s loyalty was a locked iron box, and he had simply chosen to hand the key to someone else. Yet hearing his personal life dissected by a pair of gossiping vultures in cheap lace still tasted like ash.

Riven didn’t share his sister’s indifference. His attention remained fixed across the ballroom, his gaze following the conversations and reactions surrounding the two men.

"The Northerners are the subject of conversation again," Riella said quietly, her eyes drifting toward the floor.

"They’ll keep talking until something more interesting happens," Riven replied. He tilted his chin toward the far side of the ballroom, where Marquess Gardner was still recovering his dignity near the dessert table after his humiliating encounter by the fountain. "Though it seems the capital has found a secondary source of amusement this evening."

Riella followed his line of sight, spotting Gardner looking rather like a wet hen that had just survived a very aggressive thunderstorm. "Wasn’t that the Marquess shouting about being followed earlier?"

"Indeed," Riven said, looking rather amused. "I overheard a rather interesting account from the gentleman near the punch bowl. Apparently, someone has been following our dear Gardner around all day."

"Who would want to follow Marquess Gardner around all day?" Riella asked. "And why?"

"Knowing Gardner, I imagine he has given someone plenty of reasons," Riven replied.

His attention eventually drifted back to the man in the black coat and the tall Ostharian standing beside him. Lioren and Xavion were near the dessert table, enjoying some pastries while Evelia, Therin, and Caldrin remained close by.

Riven watched them for a long moment. It was rather remarkable how quickly the two had grown close with each other. Given how recently their paths had crossed, one might have thought they had known each other for years.

He glanced down at Riella, noticing the rigid tension in her shoulders and the way her fingers were clawing just a fraction too tightly into the fabric of her fan.

"Are you regretting this, Riella?" Riven asked quietly. "We can leave whenever you like. The carriage is waiting."

Riella blinked, looking up at her brother with a faintly defensive expression. "Regretting what, Riven?"

"Coming tonight," he replied simply. His gaze briefly returned to the couple across the room before settling on her again. "Seeing someone else standing beside the Grand Duke."

A sharp, slightly bitter laugh escaped Riella’s lips. "Riven, I’m fine."

"You’re sitting so rigidly that I half expect you to start resembling one of the stone ladies in the Duke’s garden," he remarked, refusing to let the matter drop. "I am merely looking out for you. You needn’t spend the entire evening enduring the curious stares and whispered remarks of people who have nothing better to do than discuss someone else’s affairs."

"And if I stay, they whisper. If I leave, they still whisper, only they think they’ve wounded me," Riella replied. She met her brother’s watchful eyes, refusing to look away. "I am fine. Truly. It is simply... difficult, sometimes, to watch someone leave one life behind only to begin another with someone they barely know. That is all."

For quite some time, there had been those who expected the Grand Duke of Roscaire and Riella to eventually become more than acquaintances. Some had even spoken of it as though the arrangement were only a matter of time.

But those expectations had all but vanished.

Some questioned the Grand Duke’s decision, wondering why a man of his standing would choose a foreign prince whose position remained uncertain. Others were less interested in Lioren’s reasons and more inclined to pity Riella, quietly remarking on how unfortunate it must be to watch someone she had once been expected to marry choose another.

Riven didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he reached for her hand and gave it a brief, reassuring squeeze. It was a rare show of affection from him, one he seldom allowed anyone but his sister to see.

"If anyone so much as gives you an unpleasant look tonight, tell me," Riven murmured. "I’ll see their taxes doubled by sunrise."

Riella couldn’t help smiling at that, though it lasted only a moment. "Please don’t bankrupt the eastern provinces just to defend my honor, Riven."

"I’ll try to restrain myself," he muttered.

Despite the exchange, Riven’s gaze soon returned to the other side of the ballroom, settling once more on Lioren and Xavion.

Riven glanced down and casually brushed at his sleeve, as though removing a speck of dust that wasn’t there. His attention, however, remained fixed on the other side of the ballroom.

Simply watching from a distance wouldn’t be enough for him.

Riven finally turned his attention back to his sister.

"If you are all right, Riella, perhaps we should pay the Grand Duke a visit," Riven suggested. "It would be a shame to leave without exchanging a few words with him and the Ostharian prince."