It has been three years since the last gathering was hosted at the Ravencourt estate. That was the case until Kaelith's execution.
Now, however, everything has changed. The capital becomes a flurry once the renewal invitation is given sent out, considering the Duchess's Seal attached to it. All of the regal folk heard so much gossip and were truly divided in terms of feeling about her. \Masquerade - what a suiting fit for this occasion!\
To Kaelith's delight, while she sat surrounded by the silks on which she put her gaze downstairs, she could hear the mixture of excited screams paired with conversations about how the night was promised so much scandel, shows, and even violent blood. She can guarantee all three for the uninvited guests that didn'll be watching for no reason from behind closed doors and lavished curtains.
Once the music silenced, it was finally time for her to make an entrance. \Duchess Ravencourt! - Such deliciously foolish thoughts - they lost grasp in her mind as the mask hiding her face quitened the soilders without consulting her.\
With every step, Kaelith's goblet echoed over the marbled floor until she reached the hallway's end.
"Let us drink," she exclaimed, voice as bitey and loud as winter's chill, "to the things that refuse to die."
While some cheers were forced, others seemed earnest. After she had done drinking, the orchestra kicked off again.
Before the second waltz, Corven found her.
His expression was devoid of a mask, showcasing the steely glare of a man brimming with mysteries.
"Once again, bold of you to hold court here," he murmured, gently lifting her hand.
"Bold of you to arrive," she retorted.
As they danced slow to the orchestra's rhythm, it shifted. The taylored, calculated movement resembled that of two snakes entwined near the same branch.
"If looks could kill," he warned. "You're drawing the Queen's eyes."
"Let her see," the snake haired woman replied, without missing a beat.
"Thought you needed some discreet elegance," he remarked.
"Outgrown it. Most people do."
Tilting his head slightly, he muttered, "You're deadly when placed in a corner."
"Not cornered," she whispered. "I am hunting."
Slowly, Kaelith's gardened capped agitated thoughts turned vertical as she retreated to her the balcony overlooking the moonlit view. The cold might've bitten, but she welcomed the feeling.
The uninvited lady stood behind, maskless.
"You have nerve," she stated, without glancing back.
Thalia spoke softly, "You sent the invitation."
"Hundreds. Why would I think a traitor would actually come?"
Thalia jolted forward again. "There was nothing I could do."
"There is always a choice," Kaelith said as he spun to face her. "You just opted for mine. You chose to betray me. You told them my path. My request. My existence."
Thalia's expression darkened. "I was trying to ensure the safety of the House. You would have reduced everything to ashes."
"I still will."
The last word was quieter than a whisper. More like a hushed decree.
"Is the Kaelith I know really dead?" Thalia muttered. She flinched. "No. She was executed on the scaffold."
Kaelith stepped back into the ballroom while Thalia stayed behind shaking from rage.
The clock struck twelve.
All glasses were raised for the final toast.
Kaelith did lift her goblet. But only for a moment.
The wine sm—I mean smelled… unusual.
Only a fraction. The tiniest hint.
Flowing calculated attention, her gaze moved to Theron. He was positioned at the far corner of the hall.
With the tiniest nod, it was confirmed "Poison". For the second time.
A cruel smile tugged at her lips.
"Permit me to propose in a slightly different manner," she said smoothly. "As a Ravencourt custom."
With ease, she passed her goblet to her nearest associate- Baron Esric, who had turned against the Queen- while grabbing another from the servant's tray.
Esric was pale.
Not that it mattered.
He drank.
And within moments, he dropped to the floor limp. His eyes closed.
Screams erupted simultaneously with hysteria in the competition.
Unlike the other guests, she didn't raise her glass, and her goblet remained undranken.
"Do you see what I see?" she said above the commotion.
"Unfortunately," said one of the estate attendees, "it's starting to go quiet. What a pity."
"I can make it louder for you," Kaelith said with a smile that buried her eyes.
Theron examined her statement. "These fools think they're safe, slipping under the delusional veil of nobility. We both know that's a sick joke."
After the guards dragged Baron's headless body outside, Theron poured himself a drink as he leaned back, savoring the smooth booze.
"Someone's trying very hard to kill you."
Kaelith finally responded. "I'll give whoever is behind this some credit. They're putting enough effort into it, so why not?"
"Why not," Kaelith continued without being interrupted, "must this be the only draw of attention? Not really much to win here, is there?"
There was a lazy pause before Theron vehemently bellowed, "You're killing me!"
"I'm prepared," the cursed lady said while staring at the blazing fire.
"I know this victoriously unhinges your brain, but what's next?
Without wasting another breath on him, Kaelith turned, snatched the loose brick she covered with a couple coats of paint, and placed the pouch smuggled with me.
"I was thinking I say thee tomorrow."
Theron joined the ranks of confused, dumbfounded bodies surrounding Kaelith. "Why were donning it marking turningpoint this draw of disagreement?"
"Please say they stop here," Theron begged to destiny unblinking "Don't tempt fate. That's a declaration. War, not just survival."
"Put home several decades, and this one is a passable aspect."
Kaelith his firelight. "Don't bore me, and this one is a passable aspect."
Kaelith furrowed her brow in disbelief, "This was ever alights about surviving my realm. Now without a sim picked form, it said, 'this is reclaimed declaring borders were resting on stolen gold.'"
A man awoke in a cathedral covered in dust and ivy.
A cold sweat broke out across his body.
"She is wearing it." He quietly spoke to himself.
But eyes were gazing at him from the dark.