Amelia's POV
The ball was a grand affair hosted by Dominic Fortune. A wealthy man, perhaps as wealthy as the Five Great Families themselves. A man who had built his empire from the ground up by embracing the darkest traditions of the nobility. He indulged in human trafficking, drug trafficking, and slavery. A truly vile man, draped in wealth and influence.
The ball was being held in Fortune Mega—a magnificent structure capable of accommodating over two hundred guests at once. Yet tonight, only around one hundred attended. Nobles of the highest standing filled the hall, alongside the sons and daughters of the Five Great Families.
Amelia arrived adorned in a dress woven from silver silk and decorated with countless diamonds that stretched from her shoulders down to her waist. It was a dazzling masterpiece, one whose brilliance seemed to multiply beneath the moonlight. Her silver hair cascaded down her back in elegant curls, shining almost as brilliantly as the dress itself.
She stepped out of her carriage and approached the guard responsible for checking invitations.
As Amelia reached into her purse to retrieve hers, the man quickly raised a hand.
"There's no need, Lady Amelia. I know who you are. You may enter."
Amelia smiled politely and stepped into the grand hall.
The enormous glass ceiling towered above her, revealing a breathtaking sky littered with countless stars. The pristine white walls were adorned with intricate carvings of roses, each one sculpted with extraordinary care. Conversations filled the air while groups gathered throughout the hall. Marriage arrangements were being discussed, alliances forged, and futures decided over glasses of expensive wine.
Amelia did her best to avoid every discussion involving marriage. It simply wasn't something she cared about. Yet every time she escaped one proposal, another inevitably appeared.
"Greetings, Lady Amelia."
The voice belonged to a man standing beside his son, one hand resting firmly upon the boy's shoulder.
The speaker was Lord Donel Hughes, a nobleman infamous for his cruelty toward the lesser bloods. Amelia found him insufferable. His voice reminded her of nails scraping across a chalkboard—not literally, but it was irritating nonetheless.
This was not his first attempt.
A year ago, he had approached Amelia's father with a proposal that would unite House Hughes and House Green through marriage. The Head of House Green had refused immediately.
Though Amelia's father had grown distant since the passing of her mother, she understood exactly why he had rejected the offer. Lord Donel's treatment of lesser bloods disgusted him, and no political advantage could compensate for that.
Now the man stood before her once more, a smile stretching across his thin face.
"This is my son, Francis Hughes."
He gently pushed the boy forward. Francis knelt before Amelia and carefully took her hand.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Amelia."
He kissed the back of her hand before rising. Amelia offered an awkward smile and slowly withdrew her hand.
Lord Donel chuckled as he twirled his mustache.
"I shall leave the two of you to converse."
Amelia's smile stiffened. The moment Lord Donel disappeared into the crowd, she attempted to walk away. Unfortunately, Francis followed her like a loyal hound chasing after its owner.
"I must say, I'm truly excited to meet you," Francis said. "I've heard a great deal about you from my father, and his descriptions were not exaggerated. You are beautiful."
"Thank you," Amelia replied politely, glancing at him.
He looked young. Far younger than she had expected.
When she had first heard of Francis Hughes, she had imagined a man several years older than herself. Instead, he appeared to be around her age—perhaps even younger.
"How old are you?" she asked.
Francis immediately looked away.
"Eighteen."
His voice wavered. It was nearly drowned out by the elegant music drifting through the hall.
Amelia narrowed her eyes.
"Tell the truth."
Francis visibly deflated.
"I'm fifteen."
Amelia burst into laughter. She tried to suppress it, but failed miserably.
"You're far too young to be looking for marriage."
"That's exactly what I told my father."
He straightened his posture and began imitating Lord Donel's voice.
"'Building strong relations is the key to rising above the rest.'"
Amelia laughed again.
To her surprise, she found herself enjoying the boy's company. He seemed nothing like his father.
Where Lord Donel was manipulative and cruel, Francis appeared sincere and kind. At least, that was the impression he gave. Amelia couldn't judge someone's entire character from a brief conversation, but thus far he seemed genuine.
The two continued talking as waiters moved throughout the hall serving refreshments. The younger guests were offered two choices: wine or juice.
Both Amelia and Francis chose juice.
Unfortunately, another guest soon interrupted their conversation.
"A wonderful evening, isn't it?"
Amelia immediately recognized the voice.
Benjamin.
The crimson-haired noble approached with a glass in hand and an irritating smile plastered across his face.
Amelia rolled her eyes and attempted to walk away.
Then Benjamin spoke again.
"And who might you be?"
His gaze settled on Francis. Francis glanced between Benjamin and Amelia.
"My name is Francis Hughes."
Benjamin's smile widened.
"Ah, yes. Lord Donel Hughes' son."
His eyes gleamed with amusement.
"And what exactly are you doing with Lady Amelia?"
Benjamin paused dramatically. Then he placed a hand over his mouth as if struck by sudden realization.
"Oh my."
He turned toward Amelia.
"Is this supposed to be Tristan's replacement?"
The temperature around Amelia plummeted.
Her blue eyes brightened, glowing with a pale icy hue.
Particles of frost began gathering around her right hand.
She was reaching into her Celestial Forge. Calling forth her rapier. At that moment, Amelia did not care about consequences. She did not care about punishment. She did not care who witnessed what happened next. All she cared about was freezing Benjamin solid.
From the top of his arrogant head to the soles of his feet.
Every inch.
As she prepared to summon her weapon, Francis gently grabbed her hand.
Amelia froze.
She looked into Francis's eyes. Kind. Honest. Concerned. Then she looked toward Benjamin. Sinister. Manipulative. Smug.
Amelia exhaled slowly.
The frost dissipated. The rapier vanished before it could fully materialize. Her eyes returned to their normal shade of blue.
Benjamin's grin only widened.
"Hope you enjoy the ball."
He turned and walked away.
Amelia clicked her tongue.
A curse slipped from beneath her breath.
Francis chuckled.
Then he turned toward her.
"Who is Tristan?"
Amelia's expression softened.
She tilted her head upward and gazed through the glass ceiling toward the stars.
A faint smile touched her lips.
"He is a very special friend."
The smile lingered for a moment. Then it slowly faded. A shadow crossed her face.
"He's not around right now."
Her voice grew quieter.
"He's gone down a dark path."
She clenched her glass slightly.
"But I'll save him."
Her eyes reflected the starlight above.
"Because that's what friends are for."
Francis crossed his arms and smirked.
"With the way your face lights up whenever you talk about him..."
He paused intentionally.
"...I think you see him as more than a friend."
Amelia's cheeks immediately turned crimson.
She turned away so quickly that her silver hair swayed behind her.
"You're annoying."
Francis laughed.
And for the first time that evening, Amelia found herself smiling without forcing it.