The sky split with a vast array of stars that swayed to the melancholy of the simple winter wind, harmonizing with the melodies of the violin and trumpet that echoed throughout the English neighborhood, from the interior of the Ballom house, which had been transformed from a gloomy home into the venue for a wonderful celebration.
The candlelight gift fell like a sweet symphony, shadowing Louis's blue eyes, who followed his reflection in the ornate mirror with a frustrated look as he put on an elegant suit that matched his slender body, his hand gripping the knot at his neck, hesitating between tying it or stripping off everything else besides it.
He wasn't enthusiastic about going to the party held in the house opposite, especially after what he'd heard from Harold about the brothers' dubious reputation, which made him want to avoid them forever. However, he saw his absence as impolite, as long as he'd received an invitation to go... the lady of the house was certainly watching him
".Louis."
He blinked. He turned, startled by his grandmother standing on his doorstep with her cane, a stern expression that rendered her wrinkled face rigid. "Mr. Sigrid is downstairs. He says you're going to a function."
Her tone conveyed her displeasure with the entire situation. He hadn't informed her of his arrival with a special invitation to the Seqen Palom party because he knew only too well her dogmatic response, especially since he hadn't quite made up his mind... yet.
"Where are you going with that idiot boy, Louie?" She raised an eyebrow curtly. He swallowed with a nervous smile as he turned around, hastily tying his knot. "It's just a little party, Grandma."
Lady Elizabeth was silent for a few moments, steely-eyed, watching her only grandson dress up on an unusually peaceful evening. Louis turned, avoiding his grandmother's piercing gaze as he took her hand, kissing it gently, concealing his childlike confusion.
"A Siggin Palom party, Louis?" she asked him in a low tone, laced with a thread of dissatisfied anger that made him purse his lips as he craned his neck slowly and affirmatively.
He had never been a skilled liar. It was not the nature of a gentleman to fabricate lies. That's what they had told him.
"What did she tell you about rubbing up against that woman?" She scowled at him, and he breathed heavily, knowing that her angry rebuke had no end in sight, no way of saving him from this quickly adjourned lecture
"She and her brother are not the people you should be dealing with. You are the son of Marc LeGrent, Louis. Your place is between the Duchess and the Lords..."
"I no longer have a place among them, and I am penniless, Grandma." He interrupted her decisively, biting off the rest of her reproachful words with a look of impatience that did not cool as he kissed both her hands softly and smiled.
"I received a special invitation, and if I do not attend, it will give a bad impression of me, and you did not raise me to be a man who ignores others. One hour and I will be here."
The old lady could not find a response to his words, which worsened her rigid position. She knew that she could not stop him as long as he was determined to go, and with his last response, he had closed every door to discussion and argument in her face
"Come on, bird! We won't have a single glass of good wine left!" Harold's excited shout broke the silence that had descended on the house. Louis pursed his lips in embarrassment, watching his grandmother's scowl harden into a snarl as she sniffled and retrieved her fists from him.
"Your life will always be a mess, and that reckless young man will play it safe." She muttered under her breath as she slipped away, leaving Louis behind, exhaling deeply as if he had just removed a heavy stone from his shoulders.
He tugged at his suit jacket with his fist and hurried down to Harold, who was leaning on the edge of the stairs in his smart, dark purple suit, his hair curled into curls that fell to the side of his forehead, handsomely matching his playful self in his eyes.
I was afraid you would let me down and not come to the party, so I decided to stop by and get you myself
Harold smiled brightly, which Louis returned with a faltering smile, as they walked together out of the house to the other side, where the doors of the house were opened, lit by sparkling candles and the soft music of a trumpet, following the guests on imaginary crystal carpets as if leading them to a slice of heaven.
The distant ceiling chandeliers swayed gently with their glowing candle lashes above the heads of the elegantly dressed and exquisitely dressed guests, who filled the vast hall with a frenzy that would astonish anyone who didn't truly belong to that luxurious, velvet society.
"Her husband has only been dead for three weeks, and she's throwing a ball without any consideration."
"I heard she throws that party every month to see which men she hasn't yet bewitched."
"...my noble cousin Aidan once called her Madame Casanova, and that's precisely the nickname for a woman like her."
The whispered chatter of the ladies drifted into Louie's earshot, as he stood next to Harold, who flirted with every young woman's train that passed by. He flinched in surprise. These people hadn't come to attend the party or to have some fun. They had come to feast their eyes on this mysterious woman with her strange life and even stranger personality, so they could have a story to amuse their daily gossip-filled sessions until the next party.
Hypocrisy, lies, and fake affection.
All those deceptive smiles that hid behind them a disapproving face that despised a woman who lived in different surroundings, far from their traditional climate. A woman he didn't know how beautiful she was to be afflicted with such hatred and fake kindness in her miserable life
"Harold," his companion called softly, interrupting the other from sipping his wine and gazing in random directions. "What does Sigin Palom look like?"
He could picture her as a woman torn apart by the train of polygamy, making her forty years old instead of just twenty-six. He could paint her face in his mind with the note of misery he heard in her voice, to picture a sullen lady with a miserable soul
"Ah, nothing special. Given my extensive experience with women, let me tell you that she is ugly, with strange features and frightening eyes. Whenever you look at her, you feel repulsion and look away," Harold admitted in a hushed whisper close to his ear, his face completely serious, and his eyebrows curled in surprise.
He knew that Harry rarely saw an ugly woman and admitted it openly. Perhaps that was why she covered her face completely when out and about, or in the cemetery where he had met her. For a moment, he felt sympathy for this woman who had not been blessed with beauty or luck in this life, until Harold's mischievous laughter rang in his ears.
"I'm totally teasing you. She's a beautiful bird."
Louis grimaced in exasperation as Harold leaned against the wall, sipping his glass with relish before his eyelids twitched in a promising look and his eyebrows rose ever so gently. "And you can check for yourself."
Louis turned his head in the same way his friend gestured back, his eyes throbbing with amazement. Her charms were shaped like a black dress with mustard stripes and long, wide sleeves that hugged a tightly pulled waist, in contrast to her flat features with a cheerful smile that betrayed nothing of the sadness surrounding her life.
She had joined the party like a gentle night nymph who had descended from an idyllic paradise to steal the candles of attention with her captivating presence. She wasn't a unique or special beauty, but his previous imagination, along with Harold's teasing talk about her, made that appearance of her seem alluring compared to what his mind had pictured
She was, in Harold's words, a charming bird
"If she hadn't been unlucky, you wouldn't have delayed a moment in asking for her hand in marriage. Imagine having that beauty and that money in one woman." He felt Harold's warm breath next to his ear, murmuring, but he didn't agree.
He wasn't a supporter of marriage for any purpose other than pure desire devoid of that material selfishness. This had always made him different next to his reckless friend... Louis never liked deception.
He tore his eyes away after a minute as she mingled with the audience in captivating feminine coquetry. It wasn't polite to stare at her for too long or interpret her details with all the obscenity that might end with a description unbecoming of his status or that of his family
"Mr." Ligrent. "No sooner had he plunged into his reverie than a young man with blond hair and a pleasantly radiant face appeared, smiling at Louie with the same welcoming gesture that Ban had given him. "I'm Simon Palom. It's a pleasure to have you at the party tonight!"
"The honor is mine, Mr. Palom."
He seemed a friendly, cheerful young man, unlike the image he had pictured of himself. This was one of the drawbacks of being raised by a woman like his grandmother: he was used to being influenced by other people's talk before he had a chance to form his own opinion.
"Hello, Harold."
Simon hugged his companion, who smiled with such delight that he presented them as dear friends, despite Harold's prior warning and talk about the blond and his sister, which made him upset
On his face, he smiles with all generosity and love, but behind his back, he spews poison with his words and creates an ugly image of himself that creeps the claws of suspicion into the heart of his listener. Those cunning, fake masks repelled him
"Louis, please allow me to call you Louis. I wanted to thank you for your kindness yesterday morning, giving my sister a ride home. That was incredibly kind of you." Simon expressed gratitude, which Louis met with a genuine smile. He was polite and cordial, earnestly present amidst a sea of deceit.
"I was very honored to do this."
"Simon, what are you doing?"
The body shuddered at that English accent, that soft voice with its distinctive hoarseness, and that tall shadow wrapped in black entering the conversation with its still face and drawn eyes that held most of the attention.
"Siggin! I was thanking Monsieur Legrent for his kindness!" Simon's tone was filled with pleasure and eagerness, which he displayed pleasantly in the face of his sister's cold stare and speaking scowl. "I have the tongue to do this myself. I go greet the guests."
The moment stung with embarrassment in Simon's eyes, who smiled smally and excused himself, leaving his sister to turn to meet Louis and Harold, who watched the situation with confusion that she broke with her forced, welcoming smile.
"Mr. Legrent. I'm glad you were able to make it tonight." His smile reflected against the pale back of her hand as he kissed it gently, admiring the irises of her hazel eyes, like spring meadows covered in winter snow.
"I'm most delighted to meet you, ma'am."
She smiled and turned to greet Harold without meeting his flirtatious glances, silently embarrassing Louis at the thoughtless actions of his companion. He continued to drink after drink, sharing some delicious wine with him, enjoying the atmosphere of the party after the charming lady of the party disappeared into the crowd
"I'm most delighted to meet you, ma'am."
She smiled and turned to greet Harold without meeting his flirtatious glances. Louie was embarrassed by the reckless actions of his companion, who continued to drink glass after glass, sharing some delicious wine with him, enjoying the atmosphere as the glamorous lady of the party disappeared into the audience.
"So, what do you think of Mrs. Seven Pallum?" Harold's hissing voice trailed off beside his ear, earning him a shudder as he turned his attention with still, wine-drenched eyes, and pursed his lips. "Very pleasant."
Harold stepped back, a hint of insinuation hidden in his eyelids. "Reputation aside, she's a beautiful bird that it's a shame to let fly." He sipped gently from his wine, looking at Louie from behind the glass, a look of incomprehension in his blue eyes. "What do you mean..."
"Wow, wonder, wonder... Look who's here."
Every other sound around the two secluded individuals froze as that thick throat joined the wide shadow that forced their attention. They faced a plump figure with a russet face, adorned with a trimmed beard and a body that had just gained a bit of a tummy.
They were face to face with the biggest and worst horse dealer in the kingdom... Zain Haroun.
"Mr. Aron." Louis clenched his jaw sharply. Standing in front of the one to whom he owed the mortgage on his house was utterly humiliating. He couldn't understand any convincing reason why his father would mortgage the family home to anyone but the lowly horse dealer
Zane placed his cigarette between his lips, meeting Louis's cold gaze with a condescending one. "It's nice to have you home after your father's death, Louis. He's caused so many problems in your absence, and we're waiting for you to fix them. Or do you see yourself like him, fighting and not solving them?"
"I'm not my father, Mr. Aaron. I can tell you." Louis replied tersely, clenching his fists with a fury he struggled to keep from imagining and flattering his ego.
Zane smiled provocatively, blowing the thick smoke from his tobacco in the air his presence rattled and shaking his head. "We'll see about that. See you in two months, Louis. How I'd love it to be sooner."
Zane turned away, Louis's angry gaze clinging to his tails, his breath coming in heavy breaths as he tried to swallow down the unwanted encounter that had served its purpose in angering him. He felt Harold pat his shoulder, so he turned around to meet the remaining shreds of consciousness in his eyes, which were scanning him. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I just need to get some air. Where's your pack?"
Louis tugged at Harold's pockets, who was sitting there, sipping his wine and continuing his low flirting until he pulled out a cigarette with a silver lighter, walking through the crowd toward one of the wide, open balconies where the scent of jasmine fluttered softly in the winter wind
He lit the edge of the scroll, blowing smoke rings into the still atmosphere that hung over the garden, where its pots were adorned with jasmine and lily trees, with the moonlight gently perpendicular to the freshness of its petals, which swayed to a sweet symphony spun by a flock of nightingales that passed by the horizon
He felt his mule trailing away, though it didn't diminish his hatred of the horseman Aaron. He didn't know what had happened to his father so late that he would resort to the worst person in the kingdom to sign a petition to mortgage the house so easily, nor did he understand the madness that had possessed him to bankrupt them so easily.
All that fooling around was an unbearable burden on his shoulders.
"What do you think?"
His attention was suddenly pulled from watching the overcast sky by whispers close in as two shadows stretched from the east between the painted garden on the rocky path; his eyes followed their approaching path without lifting his resting torso from the balcony rail.
"My answer is still no, Mr. Nicholas."
Sigin Palom's calm voice coolly distinguished itself from the conversation just before the two adjacent shadows appeared in his view, confirming his suspicion. The blonde was accompanying the publisher, Arthur Nicholas, who was showing her a small box containing a ruby ring that shimmered in the moonlight.
They stopped near a jasmine tree, a clear frame for Lowe, who watched her expression, which didn't waver an inch, as the publisher's deep sigh of despair was heard in the silence.
"Sigin, how long will you object to marrying me?"
"It's shameful of you to ask this of me when my husband, Arthur, died only weeks ago." She scowled, her face twisting, and the publisher took both of her fists warmly in his. "I like you, Sivn I want you "
The man's emotional statement didn't seem to greatly affect the woman, who remained calm despite not pushing the publisher away as he approached, pressing their lips together without waiting for her permission.
She was like an idol in Louis's eyes, who watched the scene with a sudden serenity, watching the man's path creeping towards her neck with a passion that didn't touch her glassy eyes, which shone with a moon-green hue as they moved slowly to collide with his watching blue ones, and she remained still.
He didn't break his position. Their eyes rested on their opposite paths in a silent silence, rich with many suppressed conversations. The ignorant publisher didn't notice the presence of another party as he gratified a temporary desire that this suspicious woman had simply granted him, and without any shame, she allowed there to be a third witness to that moment
She was calm, even though she knew he had found out about her little secret and her dubious relationship with the publisher. He was steadfast when she revealed that he had watched her kiss and embrace another man in mourning for her husband. It was as if she had known he was there the whole time and hadn't cared.
He caught the ghost of a sideways smile on the edge of her colored lips, while he puffed at his tobacco with extreme relaxation. He may not have had many relationships in his life, but he was certain that this woman was definitely not his type.
The moon bore witness to that strange night, and the wind played with his coquettishly fluttering hair while Louis stood on his doorstep after ten at night, miserably supporting Harold on his shoulder. The latter was so drunk he couldn't even stand on his feet for long
"You'll spend the night here, Harold. Pray I don't leave Grandma like this," he muttered under his breath as he removed his key from the handle of the door, which opened, only to be confronted by a hall darkened by a single lamp that never shut off at night
"You'll spend the night here, Harold. Pray I don't leave my grandmother like this," he muttered heavily as he removed his key from the handle of the door, which opened, only to face the dark hallway, which was illuminated by a single lamp that never switched off at night.
He was a voyeur, fighting to escort his hallucinating friend to his room without making a sound that might wake the elderly lady of the house, who would not only scold him for being late to bed, but also bring his reckless companion home in such a state.
He had barely set foot on the first step when he was surprised by Harold's skeleton rising from him to lie along the third step, relaxed under Louie's suspicious gaze as he rocked him violently.
No, no, no. Harold isn't here! Get up. This isn't the bed!"
"I'm just going to rest for five minutes," Harold muttered dully, his mind clouded by the slumber that had overcome him, leaving him sprawled like a corpse on the stairs, ignoring Louis's constant shaking or his snarling, agitated whispers.
"...Harold... get up! If Grandma sees you like this, she'll..."
"Louie."
**