Isolde's POV : The Entrance and Greetings
The heavy silk of my gown whispered softly as I stepped into the grand ballroom, its chandeliers casting glittering reflections on the polished floor.
The room was already alive with murmurs, the soft clinking of glasses, and the shuffle of finely shod feet. Heads turned, some curious, some polite, some not-so-subtle in their judgment. I held my chin high, willing my face into a calm smile, though my heart thudded wildly beneath the corset that bit into my ribs.
"Lady Isolde," a voice floated toward me, a warm, velvety tone belonging to the Countess of Silvermoor.
She stepped forward with a delicate curtsy, her pearl necklace catching the light as she spoke.
"You wear the colours of Ravenshade beautifully."
I inclined my head gracefully. "Thank you, Your Grace. It is an honour to join your circle this evening."
She smiled, eyes twinkling with a hint of kindness that felt almost foreign in these halls.
"You have the bearing of a seasoned noblewoman already, though I hear this is your first grand ball?"
"Indeed," I admitted, letting my gaze wander briefly to the glittering crowd. "There is much yet to learn."
A few more women approached, offering greetings and small compliments. I nodded, exchanged pleasantries, and practiced the smiles I'd spent weeks perfecting in front of the mirror.
"Lady Isolde, your gown is exquisite," a young Marchioness said, fluttering her fan as she spoke.
"The embroidery, does it depict the Ravenshade stag?"
"Yes," I said softly. "A symbol of the house and its enduring strength."
She glanced at my corseted waist and raised an eyebrow. "Strength, indeed."
I managed a polite laugh, though a flash of irritation flickered beneath my calm exterior. Strength was exactly what I was trying to summon.
As I moved through the room, I greeted old acquaintances of my family, each introducing themselves with careful smiles and just enough curiosity to unsettle me.
"Lady Isolde, your arrival has been much anticipated," said a portly baron with a bushy mustache.
"Ravenshade has long been known for its formidable alliances."
I nodded, mindful of my voice. "I hope to honour those alliances, and build new ones."
He chuckled softly.
"Good. We can always use a woman with ambition."
I tucked a stray curl behind my ear and smiled tightly. Ambition was a dangerous thing here.
The chatter flowed around me, snippets of gossip, politics, and whispered judgments.
"Too thin, too pale," I overheard one whisper, just loud enough to sting.
"Common blood never blends well with ours," another voice sneered.
I swallowed, forcing myself to breathe deeply beneath the weight of my gown and the eyes that pierced through the polished façade.
The music shifted to a lilting waltz, and couples began to circle the floor in practiced grace.
I spotted Lady Marguerite nearby, her sharp gaze assessing every movement I made. She beckoned subtly, and I moved toward her, the tips of my gloved fingers brushing against the cool silk of my skirt.
"Remember," she whispered, her tone razor sharp, "you are the Duchess now. Every word, every glance, every gesture is a statement."
I nodded, swallowing my fear. "I understand."
Her eyes softened, just for a moment. "You'll do well, if you keep your resolve."
I wanted to believe her.
Suddenly, a familiar voice drifted near. "Lady Isolde, might I present my respects?"
I turned to see a handsome lord, his smile easy and genuine. He extended a gloved hand, which I took with a cautious grace.
"We have not met before," he said, bowing slightly.
"No, but I am glad for the introduction."
He led me to a small cluster of nobles, and soon we were exchanging stories of distant estates and the latest court intrigues. His charm was effortless, and for a moment, the oppressive weight of the evening lessened.
Yet, even as I laughed at a well-timed jest, a small part of me ached, the knowledge that this was only the beginning of a trial that would test every ounce of my strength.
As the night stretched on, I was pulled from group to group, nodding, smiling, engaging in the delicate dance of diplomacy and social grace.
When my family approached, the atmosphere shifted.
My mother's eyes met mine, and I could see the flicker of worry behind her carefully controlled expression.
"Isolde," she said softly, pulling me aside for a brief moment.
"Mother!" I responded, happy that I could see her again, then turned to my father.
"Father." Tears already welled up in my eyes but I fought so hard to hold it in.
"You must hold steady. Remember what is expected of you." She said to me.
"I am trying," I whispered back, fighting back tears that prickled at my lashes.
"And you must remember, you are always my daughter, always will be." My dad said as he stroked my cheeks with his thumbs. He removed his kerchief from his breast pocket and dabbed the tear from my cheeks.
My mother brushed a gentle hand against my cheek. "We all carry burdens, child. You are not alone."
The moment passed quickly, and I straightened, drawing strength from her words even as the crowd pressed closer.
I left them to go talk to their other guests. I moved from guest to guest, greeting and chatting like I was taught by lady Marguerite.
The orchestra swelled, strings and horns rising into a thunderous crescendo that made the chandeliers hum with vibration. A ripple passed through the ballroom like wind over water, fans stilled, laughter caught in throats, and every face turned toward the double doors at the far end.
They creaked open slowly and deliberately, and a hush fell over the room. Even the music seemed to quiet itself in deference to the moment.
I stiffened, my hand instinctively gripping the edge of my gown as golden light spilled in from the hallway, casting long shadows across the polished marble floor. For one breathless moment, no one moved or spoke.
The doors opened wider, revealing a solitary figure, poised and steady despite the weight of the moment.
Eyes roamed from the flickering candlelight to the figure, absorbing every detail, the calm presence, the measured breathing, the quiet strength.
Soft whispers stirred like a faint breeze but no one dared speak aloud. My heart hammered in my chest, breaths coming shallow and fast.
The figure began to move further into the room, but just then the doors closed behind them.
The music remained silent. The entire room held its collective breath, waiting.
Who had entered?