Chapter 54: Fresher Ball (3)
(Michael POV)
The dance ended. Applause scattered across the ballroom—polite, hesitant, almost brittle.
Maria Frostheart and I stepped away from the crystalline floor, but the quiet that followed clung like frost.
And then the nobles moved.
They didn't draw blades or cast spells. They didn't need to. Their weapons were sharper smiles polished to a mirror sheen, words dripping honey, footsteps weaving circles around us like predators tightening a noose.
"Lady Frostheart, such elegance this evening."
"Michael Willson, the Rank 1 of the first years… what an unexpected surprise."
"You both… certainly draw the eye."
Their compliments stung more than insults. Every syllable carried barbs hidden beneath velvet.