The walls of the enormous ballroom were a glittering gold that complimented the dangling chandeliers hanging above the ballroom's occupants. The luxurious fabrics of colourful skirts danced about the ballroom, moving with minds of their own.

Dylan noticed several people looking their way. People were openly staring in their direction, whispering and giggling, as kids do. She wondered what they thought and what they saw when they looked at her like that.

She already knew people would stare at Grisa because her beauty was blinding like bright stars on a dark night. Dylan, however, thought of herself as average looking, with maybe above average hair.

"Do you see your father?" asked Grisa. She was dressed in beautiful finery, attracting the attention of most men at the venue.

It was considered improper for unmarried ladies to attend parties without chaperones. Dylan wrote to the Duke in advance and asked him to accompany both her and Grisa. It was an essential part of her plan.

She looked around and spotted him by a wall. "He's over there," she said.

Dylan led Grisa over and introduced them. The Duke was happy, since Grisa was a noble and the daughter of a viscount. Other than Edwin, the Duke knew Dylan didn't have many friends. It was nice to see her getting along with someone her own age.

"My daughter looks lovely," he said, patting Dylan on the shoulder.

"Thank you," she voiced with an insincere smile. "Father looks handsome today. Is that a new jacket?"

He said, nodding his head up and down, "I'm glad you noticed, since I had it especially made for tonight. I'm very thankful you wanted me to attend with you and Lady Grisa."

Everyone watched the father-daughter interaction with troubled expressions. It was obvious the Duke favoured his adoptive daughter. Were the rumours about his son's position not being secure true?

"Father, is brother not coming?" asked Dylan.

He chuckled quite a while and then went on: "I'm glad you two get along well. He was here a moment ago, but he left to greet his friends. I'm sure he'll ask you to dance later tonight."

Grisa's expression turned to one of mild disgust when she heard this. It was obvious Dylan was asking because she didn't want to run into that monster. Did the Duke really not know about his son's behaviour?

Before Dylan could reply, she noticed a familiar face had approached them. He bowed elegantly to her and she curtsied.

"Grandpapa!" she exclaimed, beaming a genuine smile. "You're here?"

Edwin smiled at her gently. "It's nice to see you again, Dylan. Did your midterms go well? I remember you mentioned them in your last letter."

They exchanged letters often. The truth was that she genuinely cared for Edwin like he was her real grandfather.

"They went well," said Dylan; "but I'll have to wait for my marks to be sure."

The Duke, who had been watching their exchange, frowned visibly. He didn't like how close Edwin was with Dylan.

"You remember my grandson, Laikin, I'm sure," Edwin said, gesturing to the man beside him.

Dylan glanced at him with a confused expression. She had only just realized that Laikin had been there the whole time. In his formal grey suit, he looked extremely handsome with his brown hair smoothed down over his head.

'He looks like a fairytale prince.'

"Lady Dylan," he greeted her with a mischievous smile. "Shall I have the honour of dancing this set with you?"

She responded, "I would love to, but they are watching me."

'It's rude to decline an invitation to dance without prior engagement, but I don't care.'

Dylan took dancing classes one evening a week during her time at the Duke's mansion, but that didn't make her a good dancer. She felt like she had two left feet compared to the women who glided effortlessly across the dance floor. She didn't want to embarrass herself while everyone was watching.

"That's because milady looks beautiful," he told her.

She laughed at that and averted her eyes, twiddling her thumbs. Laikin sensed that she thought herself plain, and he was sad about that, because he didn't want her to think so little of herself. She was far from plain.

"Go on," encouraged Edwin. "It'd be a shame to miss out, won't it?"

'Is this guy seriously still trying to set me up with his grandson?'

She glanced over and saw the Duke nodding his approval. He gently patted her cheek with a gloved hand, and said: "I have some things to discuss with Mr. Edwin here, so go on and come back, okay?"

"I can't leave Grisa," Dylan protested. "She'd be all alone."

"Actually," said Grisa, "I just saw Lucas, so I think I'll greet him." She reached out and took Dylan's hand and squeezed it. "Go dance, okay?" she whispered, urging her on.

"Shall we?" asked Laikin, offering her his hand.

Dylan hesitantly took it, and together they melted into the river of twirling skirts. The nobles were studying them with interest as they danced, and Dylan thought she spotted jealousy on a few female faces.

The pair twirled in sync with the music. Dylan focused on her steps, one after the other. Her body turned and turned again, the room a blur around her.

"You're doing well," he told her. "Are you still upset with me?"

She sighed. "So you're aware of what you did?"

"I shouldn't have punched the Crown Prince," he whispered in her ear as he guided her across the floor. "I'm sorry."

"Deliberately harming the Crown Prince is a crime punishable by death or lifelong imprisonment," said Dylan. "How could you have been so careless?"

"It sounds like you care about me," he said, and twirled her around, pulling her closer as he did.

"I—"

Then the ballroom erupted into chaos. As the Imperial Family's knights stormed through the venue, the guests panicked. Laikin pulled her into his embrace and held Dylan close to protect her.

"What the hell?" he cussed.

"Dylan!" the Duke called, his voice barely audible against the chaos.

She pulled away from Laikin and said, "We have to get to the Duke and Edwin!"

They pushed and shoved their way through the panicking crowd as the knights split up and searched the bodies on the floor. When they got to the other side of the ballroom, the Duke grabbed Dylan's arm and pushed her behind him.

"Where's Grisa?" she asked, looking around in all directions. "Father, where is she?"

"I'm here!" shouted Grisa, running toward her. She grabbed Dylan's arm, trembling slightly.

All of a sudden, the violent pushing and shoving stopped. Dylan's face had a troubled expression, but a sinister smile slightly pulled at the corner of her lips.

All the nobles stared in disbelief as several knights dragged a man to the centre of the ballroom. He struggled in vain as they clenched tightly upon his arms, pulling him toward the Crown Prince. They forced the man to kneel before the Prince as seven knights formed a ring round him with their swords pointing at his throat .

"Lord Axil de Beaumon of the Beaumon Ducal household," said Caspian, his voice echoing throughout the ballroom. "You are under arrest for illegally operating an underground casino, supporting organized crimes such as kidnappings, extortion and other serious violent offences within our empire."



AUTHOR'S NOTE:

SO IT HAS BEGUN!