As the last plates were cleared and the lingering aroma of roasted meats and spiced wine began to fade, a new energy took hold of the grand banquet hall. The musicians, who had just finished a well-earned intermission, struck up a lively waltz, their melodies weaving through the air like invisible threads pulling the guests toward the dance floor.
The transformation was instant. The once-still gathering erupted into a swirl of movement—lords and ladies, young heirs and seasoned matriarchs, all eager to lose themselves in the rhythm. Elegant gowns billowed like colorful waves, polished shoes glided smoothly over the floor, and the air hummed with excited chatter and laughter.
At the heart of it all stood Alaric Steele, heir to the household, the evening's host, and the unintentional object of every ambitious young heiress' attention. Like moths to a particularly well-groomed flame, they flocked to him, eyes bright with admiration, hands eagerly extended for a dance.
