GRAND BALLROOM, KALINDI PALACE
A youthful voice interrupted her thoughts, "Milady." Witnya turned to see a teenage boy with a boyish charm; his eyes glistened with friendly curiosity. She had never seen the young boy, but he looked pleasant to look at.
She saw other noblepersons, mostly ladies, bowing to him with coquettish smiles and gestures. She could tell from his mannerisms and appearance that he was from a high-status aristocratic family, one way higher than hers.
She wondered if he was the son of a duke or an earl, her eyes secretly assessing the boy. It wasn't every day she could interact with people related to the dukes, marquises, and earls.
"Greetings, milord." Witnya curtsied with a forced smile. She had seen the young boy chatting happily with her stepmother. She presumed that her stepmother must have whispered one or two things about her to him, which must have impelled him to meet her. Her stepmother was something else; did her stepmother derive pleasure in making her uncomfortable?
"No need for formalities." The young boy, eighteen years old, smiled. "I am Nikolai Cathasaigh."
"Witnya Von Babur." She smiled but the smile didn't reach her eyes.
Nikolai Valtor Cathasaigh was the son of an earl, and a gentleman with a lovely charm that made people love him. His slightly tousled pale brown hair matched the color of his deep-set eyes, and the freckles on his nose and cheeks. His complexion was impeccably fair; he was cladded in a black tuxedo, which made ladies crane their necks to take a second and third look at him.
"You must be the second daughter of the Baron of Soravand, right?" Nikolai asked and Witnya nodded with a polite smile. His warm smile and effortless charm put Witnya at ease, and the deference shown to him by the other guests underscored his lofty social standing.
"May I?" He slightly bowed, extending his gloved right hand; a fuzzy smile was on his bright face, which dazzled her for a moment.
Witnya's ears and cheeks flushed with color as she gazed at the gloved palm, stretched out in invitation; the gentle gesture left her momentarily breathless.
"Of course, milord…Nikolai." She mumbled, her voice only audible to Nikolai. She originally planned to reject his offer, but the piercing stare from her stepmother and the other ladies made her change her decision at the last minute. She slid her right hand into his with a forced smile, and he quietly led her to the dance floor.
"I am not an excellent dancer as you presume, milord…Nikolai; I just picked up dancing as an essential course for my erudition some months ago and not as a hobby." She primed, not wanting to step on his toes or bump her forehead into his face.
Nikolai smiled, as though not bothered. "I know we are bound to make mistakes, but I just want to enjoy the bliss of dancing with a gorgeous damsel like you."
The ballroom music swirled around her, a dizzying melody of strings and horns that left Witnya breathless, her feet stumbling to keep pace with the frenetic rhythm.
"You have an older sister, right?" Nikolai asked, his warm voice pulling Witnya out of her thoughts.
"Y-Yes…indeed, I have an older sister named Sharlota. She is an amazing sister."
Nikolai was mesmerized by the fondness in Witnya's voice as she spoke of her sister, Sharlota.
"What about you, milord? Do you have siblings?"
Awestruck by the sudden question, he cleared his throat. "I do have siblings. My elder sister, Yuliya, is married with two kids. I have a younger sister who is betrothed to one of the princes in a small country, not too far from Jagnubia. I am here with my parents watching over the earldom."
The dance ended and Nikolai kissed her hand tenderly. He left with the notion of sending letters to her and Witnya left the dance floor with overwhelmed emotions.
'Is this how it feels to be admired by handsome men?' She thought to herself with a snicker.
From the corner of her eyes, she could see her stepmother happily chatting with a short, potbellied man who had receding hair. Beside the man stood a tall, handsome boy, he was modishly dressed and often glanced at her with smiles. It seemed like her stepmother was in a matchmaking spree.
Girls about the age of thirteen to fifteen surrounded Gisselle, and Sharlota was in the company of a handsome man. She had to leave the ballroom at all costs, or else she would be overwhelmed by the multitude of men specially handpicked by her stepmother.
Gasps echoed through the ballroom as the Unflawed Three presented lavish gifts to Shahzadi Katiry. A guest, a top-rated jeweler, exclaimed, "Why does that red jewel resemble the legendary 'Essence of the Aquilon Desert'?"
The 'Essence of the Aquilon Desert' was a rare jewel, said to appear only once every two centuries in the Aquilon Desert, home of the vampires. Its uniqueness lay in its rumored origin: the tears of a virgin goddess captured by a malevolent vampire king.
Yazmin, one of the Unflawed Three, confirmed the jewel's identity with a haughty grin, sparking a commotion among the guests. Even Shahzadi Katiry was shocked, earning jealous glances from the other Shahzadis and concubines.
The Unflawed Three's influence was undeniable, and everyone sought to curry favor with the clique. As other families presented their gifts, it became clear that the royal family would give special treatment to the Unflawed Three.
Lord Kazeem, Witnya's father, presented gifts to the third Shahzadi on behalf of the Babur family and the Soravand Barony.
"Is this worthy to be called a gift? Or are you just trying to attack the dignity of Shahzadi Katiry Jameele Al-Romanov?" Kaliope snorted, disdain in her eyes as she scoffed at the Baron of Soravand and the gifts in front of him.
"The third Shahzadi of Jagnubia deserves more than the best. Hand-me-down dresses, cheap jewelries, and tacky cosmetics…I expected something better from the esteemed Baron of Soravand…" Elani added with a light chuckle and this incited laughter and murmurs from the crowd. The third Shahzadi remained silent, while the Soudan kept a neutral stance to avoid offending the Unflawed Three. Lord Kazeem maintained a forced smile, aware that reacting impulsively would damage his reputation.
"You ladies are right. The third Shahzadi deserves nothing but the best of everything," He drawled. "If it was possible for me to obtain the rose petals and milk with which the goddesses bath with and the silk woven by the hands of the divinities, I would have done so but I am just a mere Baron with limited resources. I hope that the third Shahzadi would understand my condition and accept the little that I have." There was a hint of sarcasm in his words, which was easily noticed but his words held earnestness. In Jagnubia, giving out gifts was seen as a sign of thoughtfulness not contempt; hence, gifts were accepted for the sentiments that inspired them and not for their value.
This time around, it was the turn of the Unflawed Three to be sneered at by the crowd. Even if their influence could rival a continent's, they would not be able to obtain such rarities. Elani's face was so dark that ink could drip from it, Kaliope was also fuming, and Yazmin had to pacify them, as she was the least affected.
'Like father like daughter…daft people.' Elani sneered at the Baron and kept quiet.
After the gift-giving session, high-status aristocratic families were invited to dinner with the royal family. As Witnya sought refuge away from the noble sons her stepmother had sent, she made her way to her father. However, fate had other plans, and she collided with Nikolai instead.
"Why isn't your family joining the other families for dinner with the royal family?" Nikolai asked as he saw the unusual carefree expression on her face. Most times, Witnya would be seen with a reactionless face or a stoic smile.
"No, my family can't." Witnya quickly replied. The longer she stayed alone, the more noble sons would find it convenient to talk to her. "The dinner is strictly for high-status aristocratic families, aren't you aware?"
Astonishment coursed through Nikolai's deep-set eyes, "Really?"
"Why not? Not every Tom, Dick, and Harry can dine with the Al-Romanov family. Is that possible?" The lady accompanying Nikolai chipped in with a mushy grin, showing off her pearly white teeth.
Witnya's eyes dimmed but she smiled politely. "Yes, you should hurry up because the royal family members are settled for the dinner. I'm on my way to meet my father, see you some other time, milord." She bowed and left. She didn't miss the ugly glint in the lady's eyes.
"She's uncouth and looks like someone with ulterior motives. You should stay away from her, who is she?" The strange lady asked Nikolai who slightly glared at her.
Nikolai was uninterested to stay for dinner but he could not miss it, as this was the opportunity to be acquainted with other noblepersons since he was going to take over the earldom anytime soon.
Witnya paused and looked back at Nikolai. Her gaze fell upon the lady, who had wrapped her arms around Nikolai's, her fingers intertwining with his as they strolled together, their laughter and whispers carrying on the evening air. Nikolai only nodded and said few words to her while the lady had a self-satisfied smile. As the weight of her gaze became apparent, Witnya tore her eyes away, her feet carrying her swiftly from the scene.
However, she saw her father who was talking with some noblepersons. The first was a rotund woman in her mid-fifties; she had a tight smile all the time and was dressed gaudily. The second was a fellow Baron like her father.
"Your Excellency, why are you suddenly interested in the farmyards in Mocha Town? Those farmyards have been in Mocha Town for more than three centuries and they serve as the source of income to the old people living there." She heard her father explain to the woman donned in a gaudy attire.
Your Excellency? There was only one woman who had that title in the entire Jagnubia and she was the Marchioness of Jalalinskaya, Her Excellency Milica Rossetti Asterin.
"I just suddenly developed a liking to Mocha Town because of the wonderful environs, why can't I have it? I think the site of the farmyards will be right and proper for the construction of an opulence-themed mansion, don't you think so too?" Marchioness Milica snorted, fanning herself delicately. Her eyelids narrowed, her pupils glinting like polished onyx as she weighed her opinions. "Just mention the price and it will be settled. Do you have to be long-winded?"
Witnya was shocked. Marchioness Milica's desire for the farmyards was driven by a single motivation: to build a grand manor. As Witnya pondered this, a wave of anger and hopelessness washed over her. How could Marchioness Milica ignore the devastating impact on Mocha Town's residents?
"Your Excellency, I will think about it." Lord Kazeem hurriedly said.
A frown creased the marchioness's small face, her brows furrowed in displeasure, as she regarded Baron Kazeem with an unsparing gaze. "What is there to think about? Just say yes, I will give you enough money, and compensate those old geezers. I give you a week to think about it, nothing more, and nothing less." She harrumphed and left, the other Baron followed closely behind.
Lord Kazeem sighed and the sparkle in his eyes weakened.
"Father, don't do it." Witnya said aloud to her father, causing her father to be shocked.
'Did she hear everything?' He thought and his heart skipped a beat.
"Witnya…" He tried to explain but was interrupted by her.
"I want to go home now." She said and Lord Kazeem nodded.
"Let's look for your sister." He breathed and led the way.
Half an hour later, the family of five was seated in two carriages, each pulled by four horses. Somberness settled over the carriages, a palpable silence that spoke to the weight of each occupant's innermost thoughts and motivations. As the night wore on, Witnya's thoughts drifted to the mysterious Marchioness Milica, who was rumored to be involved in shady dealings.
Meanwhile, Marchioness Milica strolled through the palace gardens, the soft crunch of gravel beneath her feet echoing through the stillness, as she sought out Baron Sergei, her eyes narrowing as she pondered her next move.
"Do you think Kazeem will hand over the site of those farmyards to me?" She asked, her voice low and suggestive, as they paused beside a bubbling fountain. Her gaze sliced through the vicinity, her eyes lingering on each face before moving on, as if calculating the potential value of each acquaintance.
Baron Sergei mused, "Your Excellency, I don't think so. If he gives you the farmyards, the residents will be displaced and if this reaches the Soudan's ears…"
"Shut up, fool!" She screamed angrily. "Do you really think the Soudan can do anything about it? He is just a figurehead, the real power lies with the Sowdanesse. Have you forgotten that the Sowdanesse is my distant cousin and she owes me many favors, this alone is my biggest trump card?"
"I didn't know about this…" Baron Sergei mumbled, dazed about what he heard. "But Your Excellency, how do you intend to subdue Baron Kazeem and take away the farmyards? To begin with, those farmyards have been in his possession so he has the upper hand..."
Marchioness Milica's lips curled into a sly smile, her eyes glinting with triumph. "I'm the one with the upper hand. I just remembered that Earl Cathasaigh have always wanted the Downtown Plazas in Soravand Barony, joining forces with him doesn't sound bad to me or do you have any other idea?" She purred, each word dripping with confidence.
Baron Sergei's laughter burst forth, a harsh, mocking sound that sent shivers to one's spine, even as Marchioness Milica's gaze flashed with warning, a subtle reminder to maintain decorum. "That is very smart of you, Your Excellency. Earl Cathasaigh is just right for this, as he is strong-minded in whatever he puts his efforts into. Also, he doesn't care about the public opinion."
"Then don't be a flower vase by flattering my labors," She huffed. "Write a letter in my name to Earl Cathasaigh for a business meeting in a fortnight at Marjan Saran Restaurant."
"Yes, Your Excellency." Baron Sergei nodded.
"I'll need your services some other time. My presence is needed at the royal banquet, make sure to behave yourself." Marchioness Milica commanded with a solemn expression. "This conversation remains between the two of us, no outsider should know about this."
The Baron nodded frantically and he watched the Marchioness leave the fountain with her waist swaying erotically.
‡ ‡ ‡
BABUR MANOR, SORAVAND BARONY
With weary steps, the family of five disembarked from their carriages, ambled towards their manor, their movements relaxed, and unhurried. The manor's servants stood at attention, their faces illuminated by the warm glow of lanterns, as they awaited the Babur family's arrival. As soon as Witnya slipped into her room, the soft glow of candles and the sweet scent of blooming flowers enveloped her, a soothing balm for her frazzled nerves.
Her tummy grumbled and a flare of weakness jolted through Witnya.
"Milady, are you okay?" Odette rushed to the weak girl.