A week later-
"...What is this?"
Esmeralda eyed the box like it might explode.
It was large.
Elegant.
Suspicious.
Belle stood nearby, already smiling like she knew something Esmeralda didn't. Which, frankly, was always a bad sign.
"My lady," she said, barely containing her excitement, "it's from His Highness."
"...Of course it is."
That made it worse.
Esmeralda sighed and reached for the lid, opening it slowly-carefully-like she expected a trap.
Instead-
She froze.
Inside lay a gown.
Not just any gown.
A deep, rich ruby dress that shimmered under the light, the fabric layered delicately like liquid silk, catching every flicker of movement. The embroidery along the bodice was intricate, elegant-almost regal.
"...That's excessive," she murmured.
Belle gasped. "It's beautiful!"
"It's dangerous."
"My lady, it's a dress."
"Exactly."
She reached out, brushing her fingers lightly against the fabric.
Soft.
Luxurious.
Unfairly so.
"...It's his color," Belle added knowingly.
Esmeralda stilled.
"...What?"
"The shade," Belle said, smiling. "It resembles His Highness' eyes."
Silence.
Esmeralda slowly looked back at the gown.
Then-
"...That's manipulative."
"My lady-"
"And intentional."
"...Probably."
"...How annoying."
A small card slipped from the folds of the gown.
Esmeralda picked it up reluctantly.
For the Spring Ball.
-Rael
She stared at it.
Then at the gown.
Then back at the card.
"...He didn't even try to be subtle."
Belle leaned closer.
"My lady... if you wear this-"
"I will not."
"...You will match His Highness."
Esmeralda paused.
"...That is exactly why I will not."
A beat.
"...But you will?"
"...I will consider it."
The dress was far too stunning from the other dresses Esmeralda owned. She was drawn to the unique patterns and embedded jewels the gown had.
She wanted to wear it-
Because who wouldn't want to wear such a unique extravagant dress?
It was to stunning to rot in her dressing room-
And, too stunning to wear at tea parties.
It's not like I would die from matching his clothes..
right?
She thought to herself.
---
The herald's voice rang across the ballroom.
"His Grace, the Duke- Her Grace, the Duchess- and Lady Esmeralda."
The doors opened.
Conversation softened.
Heads turned-subtly, then all at once.
Esmeralda stepped in beside her parents, posture composed, expression perfectly neutral, the ruby gown catching the light with every measured step.
The Duke walked at her side, steady and dignified, his presence commanding without effort. The Duchess, elegant and poised, rested a reassuring hand lightly against Esmeralda's arm.
"...Remember," her mother murmured under her breath, "smile."
"...I am smiling," Esmeralda replied faintly.
"...More convincingly."
"...That sounds exhausting."
The Duke exhaled softly, almost amused. "Endure it for one evening."
"...Tragic."
And yet-
As they descended the steps together, the room shifted around them.
This time-
They weren't looking at Esmeralda with judgment.
They were watching.
The ballroom shimmered with light.
Spring had brought color to everything-soft florals, flowing fabrics, delicate pastels.
And then-
There was red.
Esmeralda stepped into the ballroom.
And the room noticed.
Not loudly.
Not immediately.
But inevitably.
Because against the soft hues of spring-
She stood out.
Deliberately.
Brilliantly.
Unavoidably.
"...I hate that this works," she muttered under her breath.
Across the room-
Rael turned.
And stilled.
Just for a moment.
He wore black-
Accented with the same deep ruby shade.
Subtle.
Refined.
Matching.
Of course.
Their eyes met.
And for once-
He didn't hide his reaction.
"...You wore it," he said as he approached.
"...Unfortunately," she replied.
"...You look-"
"Do not finish that sentence."
"...-as expected."
"...That was still dangerous."
A faint smile touched his lips.
"...You match."
"I noticed."
"...You didn't refuse."
"I considered it."
"And still wore it."
"...I made a mistake."
"...A good one."
"...That's debatable."
He stepped closer.
Naturally.
Of course he did.
"...You're enjoying this," she muttered.
"I am."
"...You're insufferable."
"And you still wore it."
"...That was a lapse in judgment."
"...Then I hope you make more."
She glared at him.
He looked entirely too pleased.
Music swelled into a waltz.
Rael extended his hand.
"Dance with me."
"...That sounded like an order."
"It's an invitation."
"...You're bad at those."
"And you're still accepting."
"...I haven't agreed."
"You will."
She stared at his hand-then took it.
"...If I step on your foot, that's your fault."
"I'll take that risk."
He drew her closer than necessary.
Of course he did.
"...Maintain a respectable distance," she muttered.
"...No."
They moved in perfect rhythm.
"...You're enjoying this," she accused.
"I am."
"...You're insufferable."
"And you wore my gift."
"...A lapse in judgment."
"...Then I hope you make more."
He spun her-effortless, controlled.
"...You planned this," she narrowed her eyes.
"I plan everything."
"...Disturbing."
"...Effective."
He leaned in slightly.
"...You look better like this," he murmured.
"...Like what?"
"...Where I can see you."
She faltered-just a fraction.
The final note of the waltz faded.
Rael released her-slowly.
Reluctantly.
"...Stay," he said.
"...That sounded like an order again."
"It wasn't."
"...Then work on your tone."
A faint smile flickered across his lips.
"...I have duties to attend to," he added.
"How unfortunate." she said with sarcasm.
"You'll manage."
"...Barely."
He studied her for a brief moment-longer than necessary-before stepping back.
"...Don't wander."
"...That sounds like a challenge."
"...It's a warning."
"...We'll see."
And just like that-
He was gone.
"...You seem to attract him easily," Aziel said quietly as he approached.
Esmeralda blinked.
"...That's unfortunate."
"...Is it?"
"...Yes."
A pause.
"...You match him well," Aziel added.
She stared at him.
"...That's also unfortunate."
A faint smile touched his lips-but it didn't quite reach his eyes.
"...You don't seem pleased."
"...I'm tired," she replied. "It's different."
"...I see."
Silence settled briefly between them.
"...You were unwell not long ago," Aziel said. "And yet you still attended."
"...I ran out of excuses."
"...You shouldn't have to."
That-
Made her glance at him.
"...That sounds kind," she said. "Suspiciously so."
"...Perhaps it is."
"Lord Aziel."
Both turned.
The Duke approached, composed but purposeful.
"...Your Grace," Aziel greeted with a bow.
"I require a word," the Duke said calmly.
A pause.
Aziel glanced briefly at Esmeralda.
"...Of course."
He straightened.
"...My lady."
"...My lord."
And just like that-
He was taken away.
"...My lady."
The voice was soft.
Sweet.
Too carefully so.
Esmeralda turned.
Lady Virelle stood there-
smiling.
Graceful.
Perfectly composed.
And watching her just a little too closely.
"...Lady Virelle," Esmeralda said. "You have excellent timing."
"...I'm glad you think so."
"...I don't."
Virelle laughed lightly.
"...May I borrow you for a moment?"
Her tone was gentle.
Her posture relaxed.
But her fingers-
curled slightly against her fan.
Tense.
Waiting.
Esmeralda noticed.
Of course she did.
"...This sounds like a poor decision," she said.
"...Just a conversation," Virelle replied sweetly.
A pause.
Then-
"...Fine," Esmeralda sighed. "Let's make poor decisions."
And with that-
She followed.
Toward the corridor.
Toward the moment that would end the night.
--
"...Where is she?"
Rael's voice cut through the music as he stepped away from the ballroom floor, gaze already scanning the crowd.
He didn't see her. The Duke and Duchess were still there but their daughter was not. This meant they hadn't gone home.
Which meant-
Something was wrong.
He turned sharply-
And found Aziel.
"...You were with her," Rael said.
Aziel stilled.
"...Earlier," he replied. "Your Grace took me aside."
Rael's expression hardened.
"...And you left her alone?"
A flicker-brief, but real-crossed Aziel's face.
"...I assumed she remained in the ballroom."
Silence.
Too long.
"...It's been a while," Rael said.
Their eyes met.
No rivalry.
No politeness.
Just understanding.
They moved quickly.
Not rushed-
but urgent.
Through the ballroom.
Past the terraces.
Into the corridors.
"Esmeralda!"
No answer.
The music behind them grew distant.
The light dimmed.
The air cooled.
"...She wouldn't go far," Aziel said quietly.
"...Unless she was taken," Rael replied.
The words settled-heavy.
They split up to cover more ground.
Then-
Beyond the last stretch of corridor-
past where the light from the ballroom could reach-
A figure.
Collapsed.
Still.
"...Esmeralda."
He was already moving.
Rael was on his knees.
She lay against the cold stone floor, her ruby gown spread beneath her like a dark bloom.
Too still.
Too quiet.
"...Esmeralda," he said again, lifting her carefully.
Her head fell lightly against him.
No resistance.
No response.
His hand moved to her face-
Cold.
Too cold.
She was breathing but it was barely.
Rael's jaw tightened.
"...Esmeralda."
Nothing.
The rise and fall of her chest-
faint.
Uneven.
Too slow.
Rael didn't move.
Didn't look away.
His grip tightened-just slightly-around her.
"...You're not allowed to do this," he murmured.
Soft.
Almost lost in the quiet of the corridor.
"...Not like this."
No answer.
Only silence.
And the distant echo of music-
still playing.
As if nothing had happened.
But here-
Everything had.