Chapter 27: The Ball's Final Curtain
The grand hall of the Everhart estate, illuminated by thousands of enchanted lights, was still filled with noble guests, their voices blending into a dull hum as the evening's festivities reached their final moments. The air remained thick with intrigue, admiration, and whispers of speculation, most of them revolving around **him.**
Leonhardt Valerian Everhart sat at the head of the hall, his expression unreadable as he watched the nobles still engaged in idle conversation. The ball had been a tedious affair, but it had served its purpose—his birthday had been announced to the empire, and the nobility had witnessed his presence.
It was nothing but a formality.
His fiery red eyes, flecked with gold, scanned the remaining guests with detached boredom. Many had tried to gain his favor tonight—**especially the young noblewomen**—but he had no interest in their advances. Their shy glances, carefully chosen words, and desperate attempts at conversation had all been effortlessly ignored.
The only thing on his mind was **her.**
Even now, as nobles mingled, his thoughts strayed to the one who remained hidden from the world. The one **bound by the same seal** he sought to destroy.
His hands tightened on the armrest of his chair.
*I must move faster.*
The faint sound of a clinking glass brought his attention back to the present. His father, **Grand Duke Aldric Everhart**, stood, signaling the final toast of the evening.
"Tonight," his father's deep voice resonated across the hall, "we celebrate not only my son's tenth birthday but also the future of House Everhart."
A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd.
Leonhardt knew what was coming next.
"As all of you know, tradition dictates that an heir's tenth birthday marks the true beginning of their path. From this day forward, Leonhardt will step into his role as the future Grand Duke."
Polite applause filled the hall, but Leonhardt barely acknowledged it.
"This boy is the pride of our house. A genius in both **magic and swordsmanship**, with strength that surpasses expectations. I have no doubt that he will become a legend in the years to come."
Leonhardt's expression remained cold as his father's words rang true—**he would indeed become a legend**. But for reasons none of these people would ever understand.
When the applause finally died down, the Grand Duke's gaze swept over the crowd. "With that, I believe it is time to bring this night to an end. May the Everhart name continue to stand above all."
A final toast was raised, and the guests soon began to take their leave.
One by one, nobles approached him, offering parting words—**some out of genuine admiration, others with hidden agendas.**
The **Duke of Verdan** stepped forward, a sly smile playing on his lips. "Young Lord Everhart, you've certainly left quite the impression tonight. My daughter, Lady Selene, speaks very highly of you."
Leonhardt barely spared the man a glance before responding in a **bored tone.** "Is that so?"
The Duke's smile faltered for a second. "Indeed. She was quite taken with your swordsmanship demonstration earlier."
Leonhardt remained silent.
The noble's intention was obvious—**testing the waters for an engagement proposal.**
*Foolish.*
Without another word, Leonhardt turned away, effectively dismissing the conversation.
The Duke's face stiffened, but he bowed and stepped back, unwilling to risk offending the **future Grand Duke.**
More nobles followed, some attempting to subtly bring up their daughters, others trying to gain favor. But Leonhardt was **unmoved.**
He had no interest in forming attachments.
He had no interest in love.
And he certainly had no interest in playing into these petty noble games.
**Let them scheme. Let them desire.**
It would all be meaningless in the end.
As the last of the guests departed, silence finally descended upon the grand hall.
Leonhardt exhaled quietly, pushing himself up from his seat.
The night was over.
And his real work was about to begin.
---
### **Later That Night**
The palace was silent.
Not a single servant stirred as **Leonhardt moved through the halls**, his steps soundless against the marble floor. **The weight of his true purpose pressed heavily on him.**
With practiced ease, he reached the secluded passage leading outside, his magic shielding his presence.
For years, he had **perfected this routine.**
By day, he was the heir of Everhart—**a noble's prodigy, a young lord with limitless potential.**
By night, he was something else entirely. **A seeker of forbidden knowledge.** A being destined to break the chains of the past.
As he stepped into the cold night air, his fiery gaze lifted toward the moon.
His **goal** remained unchanged.
No matter what obstacles stood in his way, no matter how many years it took—**he would free her.**
And then, the world would know **what true power meant.**