The ballroom glittered on in full splendor, but here in the quieter corner of the hall, the noise softened into a dull hum. Mina, or rather Seraphine, lifted the crystal glass to her lips. The wine was smooth, richer than she expected, with a faint sweetness that lingered on her tongue. She took another sip without thinking, letting the taste linger a bit too long.

It was the best wine she had ever tasted. She had to hold back from emptying the glass, not wanting to appear improper. She needed to fit in, at least for now.

Taking slower sips, she glanced around the room, then at Lucien.

Lucien’s eyes flicked briefly toward her glass before returning to the crowd. Nothing in his expression changed, but there was a pause that made her wonder if she had done something wrong.

Mina hesitated to ask, choosing instead to focus on her surroundings. It was safer that way. Better to observe than to risk saying something out of place. Who knew what might happen if they discovered she wasn’t really Seraphine? Not that anyone would believe such a thing. They would likely think she’d gone mad.

She raised the glass again, now only a third full.

Lucien stood beside her, composed as always, his hands clasped neatly behind his back. Even in the quiet, he looked like the kind of man who belonged to the noise, who could stand in the center of a storm and remain untouched. His raven black hair gleamed faintly in the light, cropped neatly and brushed back to reveal those molten golden eyes that seemed to notice far too much.

She had never seen eyes that color before. Glancing upward, she caught their reflection in the chandeliers above. They were golden too, swaying gently as the dancers moved below, their light catching on her emerald gown and scattering flecks of green across the polished marble floor.

“Are you alright?” Lucien asked at last, his voice a low murmur meant for her ears alone.

Mina almost jumped. The question alone made her uneasy. Had she already failed her act? Was she doing that badly as Seraphine? No, maybe she was overthinking. She shouldn’t jump to conclusions.

She forced a smile, gripping the glass a little tighter. “Yes, I’m fine. Why?”

He studied her for a moment. “You seem…” His voice paused, as though searching for the word. “Distracted.”

Mina blinked. “Distracted?”

There was a pause. The silence lasted only a few seconds, yet it stretched unbearably long. It almost felt like he was deciding how much to say. Then he inclined his head slightly.

“During our dance, you kept glancing around. And near the end, you missed a step.” His voice was calm, but his brow furrowed with faint concern. “That isn’t like you, Lady Seraphine.”

–Oh shit.

Mina forced a tiny laugh, hoping it sounded more like the lady she was supposed to be and less like a nervous office worker cornered by her boss. “Perhaps I was… taken aback by the crowd.”

Lucien’s gaze lingered on her, as if weighing every flicker of her expression. For the first time, Mina understood what novels meant when they described a man’s eyes as burning. There was an intensity there, not frightening, but so piercing it was difficult to lie. Maybe he even saw through her lie. It was a lame excuse after all, but that was the first thing that popped in her head.

He leaned closer, lowering his voice further. “Is this about the last incident?”

Her heart stumbled in her chest.

–Last incident?

The words dropped like a stone in her stomach. Mina stared up at him, but his face betrayed nothing beyond genuine concern. There was no judgment, no suspicion, only careful watchfulness, as though he feared pressing too hard would shatter her.

Mina scrambled for a response but came up empty. If she asked directly, she risked giving herself away. If she brushed it off, would that seem strange?

The silence stretched.

Lucien’s hand, gloved in black, twitched at his side as if fighting the urge to reach for her. His voice, when it came again, was softer.

“I won’t leave you alone tonight. Not after last time. If you wish to rest, I will take you to your father’s side. But I would rather stay.”

Mina froze.

–What could have happened at the last incident?

Her pulse spiked, and she almost dropped the glass. She opened her mouth, but no words came.

Lucien continued as if speaking more to himself than to her. “I should not have left you alone on the balcony. It was careless.”

He reached his hand towards her shoulder, then retracted it, holding his hands behind his back again. “I swore it would not happen again. I will not let that old ba- I mean Duke Hamilion come near you.”

Mina swallowed hard, as if there was a lump stuck in her throat.

–Balcony? What balcony? What happened? And did he just want to say old bastard? It was so bad that an Earl almost cursed? So it was an old man that bothered Seraphine?

She forced herself to nod, feigning the kind of silent dignity she assumed Seraphine would wield. There were so many questions she wanted to ask but couldn’t. Her mind, instead, wandered where it shouldn’t. Fearing the worst that could’ve happened to Seraphine.

Lucien gazed at her gently, with concern and affection, or was it more pity and guilt? “Please let me know whenever you are uncomfortable. I will be by your side, no matter what.”

Mina’s breath hitched.

–Damn it. He was good. Too good. The perfect fiancé, someone who is attentive, protective and supportive. I bet he is the kind of man readers would trip over themselves to adore.

If she wasn’t careful, she would start to adore him too.

But no. Not her. She was not going to be swept into a romance plotline.

Before she could press for more, a sharp, too-sweet laugh cut through the air. The woman dipped a shallow curtsey that was more insult than respect.

“Well, if it is not Lady du Fane. How radiant you look tonight.”

The saccharine tone made her skin crawl. Mina turned, and two figures approached. One middle-aged woman, one young man. The woman wore lavender silk that clung too tightly at the waist, her jeweled fan snapping open with deliberate drama. Her companion, a young baron’s son by the look of him, carried himself with smug ease, his smirk already irritating.

Mina plastered on a polite smile. “You are too kind.”

The woman tilted her head, lashes lowering in mock innocence. “How brave of you to show your face after… well, you know.” She let the pause hang, savoring the suspense. “After the unfortunate balcony scandal.”

The woman’s companions seemed to have gathered behind her, giggling behind their hands, whispering loud enough for nearby guests to hear.

“She was violent, wasn’t she? A lady, striking a duke,” the youngest in red whispered.

“And biting, too! Like some mad dog,” another added with a gasp that was anything but genuine.

“Truly shameless,” the eldest murmured behind her fan, shaking her head in disapproval. “To lure men and then play the victim.”

The other guests nearby were already leaning in, their curiosity sharpened like knives.

The baron’s son chuckled, eyes sliding over her in a way that made Mina’s skin itch. “One must admire such resilience. After enduring such an embarrassing ordeal, I expected you to stay hidden for months. Yet here you are, clinging to the Earl’s side as if nothing happened.”

He sighed and shrugged with his arms up, while shaking his head of disappointment. He looked at her fiancé, with his eyebrows up, as if he looked with pity, yet he had a smug smile on his face. “With all due respect, Earl Ravenshaw, I do not understand why you would risk staying engaged with her.”

Heat prickled under Mina’s skin.

–Oh, so this is how it’s going to be? You want to fight, punk?

Lucien stepped forward, almost glaring sternly at the lady and man. “Lady Marcelline, Lord Eden, you-”

Before he could finish, Mina held her hand up to stop him. She plastered on a slow, deliberate smile. “Well, I suppose when you have no shame, it becomes much easier to attend parties. Would you agree, Lady Marcelline?”

The lady’s fan froze mid-snap. A murmur rippled through the nearby crowd.

Mina tilted her head, emerald skirts rustling as she shifted her weight. She let her gaze drift lazily over the woman’s gown, then back up. “Though, it takes a certain kind of courage to wear that cut. I would almost call it admirable.”

The words left her lips before she even had time to second-guess herself. Mina blinked, a little stunned. Normally, the old her would have frozen up. High school bullies, snide remarks, the sting of laughing whispers in the hall. But she was not that girl anymore.

Twelve years of life after high school had changed her. Working in an office during the day, standing behind the bar at night. Going from part time job to another. She had met enough customers, coworkers, and bosses to know how the world worked. Too many times she had bitten her tongue, forcing a polite smile while words she longed to say burned holes in her chest. Sometimes she managed to stand her ground, but more often she let the moment slip, only to lie awake later, replaying what she should have said.

Maybe that was why this felt so easy now. The words came naturally, as if she had gathered them over years of quiet frustration and finally let them spill. Part of it, she knew, came from someone she cared about, someone who had quietly taught her to stand tall, to speak out when she wanted to and do what she wanted. Mina was not Seraphine. She was thirty and had already lived enough to know she did not want to be silent anymore.

She knew these parts all too well, from stories she had read and situations she had imagined while lying awake at night. There were a hundred insults ready for the taking, a thousand more she had crafted in her head. Now it was time to use them, to say her piece she had always wanted—

The baron’s son barked a laugh, breaking her train of thought. She noticed how he smothered it when he realized she was not joking. Lady Marcelline’s cheeks burned crimson.

“You–!”

“What was it you were saying?” Mina interrupted smoothly, swirling her wine.

“That I should have hidden? That I ought to be ashamed? My dear, if I were to crawl away every time a drunk old man made a fool of himself, I would never see daylight again. It is not I who should be embarrassed. Or should I, Lord Eden?”

The murmurs grew louder, the air shifting. Some laughed, others gasped.

Marcelline’s fan snapped shut with a sharp crack. She spun on her heel, dragging her companion with her, face stiff with humiliation.

Mina sipped her wine again, letting the taste linger, a little thrill sparking in her chest. She was not supposed to feel good about this. She should have played it safe, demure, careful.

But damn, it felt good.

Lucien’s gaze was still on her, calm yet unreadable. Concern lingered there, but something else hid beneath it, something sharper.

She lifted her chin and straightened her spine, a faint smile curving her lips. The whispers, the stares, the judgment, she refused to let them crush her. If this was chaos, she would meet it head-on.

Lucien watched in silence. Whatever he thought of her defiance, it wasn’t enough to ease the faint crease between his brows.

It seemed like she survived that. She almost sighed out of relief if not for the gaze she kept feeling. She glanced once more at the glass and realized something. Something she had overlooked before so badly that she wanted to hysterically laugh right now.

How could she forget? She saw her own reflection, much younger than she was before. Her reflection as Seraphine looked maybe twenty. From the rumors she gathered, she had already been engaged twice. If all her fiancés died before the wedding happened, would Lucien be next? Was her role to save him for his tragedy? Or was it to save herself from an unmarried life as a daughter of a duke?

She turned toward him, raising her brows as she accidentally met direct eye contact.

–Shoot.

A sudden jolt of awareness hit her. She was still standing next to her fiancé. She was still in the ballroom, under the gaze of dozens of curious eyes. Panic and speculation would have to wait.

She hesitated on what to say, but ended up blurting something with a tiny smug smile.

“What? Did I embarrass you?”

Was that a stupid question? She was proud of what she did, but did she have to be more aware of her partner now too? She observed his expression, just like he did to her. He studied her for a long moment, then exhaled through his nose, just barely shaking his head.

“Not at all.”

His voice was calm, but she caught the faintest glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “You have always been… decisive, my lady.”

Decisive. That was one way to put it. Mina almost laughed. Seems like she did not have to worry about her stupid question after all.

She leaned back against the marble column, letting her head tip slightly, her reflection catching faintly in the glass of the tall window nearby. The emerald gown shimmered, gold embroidery catching the light like fire. Her reflection stared back at her, youthful and almost doll-like in its perfection. Her figure carried the kind of sculpted elegance seen in Greek statues, graceful yet undeniably alluring. The kind of beauty men would kill for, and women might envy.

And it was not hers.

Her lips curved.

–Fuck it.

If they wanted Seraphine the villainess, she would give them one. If the rumor mill already spun her as scandalous, violent, or mad, then why not lean into it? If readers expected her to swoon over Lucien’s kindness, too bad. Let them scream into their hands.

She was not here to play the role of tragic heroine or misunderstood damsel. She was Seraphine now, and she would do it her way.

Seraphine raised her glass slightly toward Lucien, the corner of her mouth curling into a smirk.

“Decisive, huh? I will take that.”

The golden-eyed Earl only inclined his head, but she did not miss the way his gaze lingered on her longer than before. Protective. Watchful. Maybe even intrigued.

Let him look. She had bigger things to worry about.

At least, for now.