Emilia had heard of love at first sight but she had never quite believed it until that moment she stepped inside of the palace of the disgustingly wealthy. She despised the idea of flashing wealth unnecessarily, but one glance at the elegant dancers, the gourmet food, the live music, and outstanding decor of flowers and gold laid tastefully across banisters and hung from walls made her jealous of the beauty money could create.
Her eyes wander, catching on the flashes of colour or turns of gowns, deaf to the stammering of classical orchestra and beats of conversation hovering in the background. The colours were so loud in themselves that she was surprised her eyes weren't watering with their ferocity, let alone the overwhelming air of stuffy fragrances that made her feel as if she had a cold that sprung up in an instant.
And then she realized what she was really watching, she was seeing the mating dances of those birds of paradise, so desperate to not be devoured by the lion in his den that they must first blind and swoon him into submission of their desperately terrible proposals. But then the question was where was that terrible predator? The king of this gold and marble jungle that could pounce on them in an instant.
Her heart racing at unimagineable speeds, she grips tightly with one hand to the golden fabric beneath her palm, holding it out of the way of her trembling steps. Her other hand, no matter how still she attempts to hold it refuses to keep from vibrating a steady rhythm of anxious thoughts and prayers against her side. And then without warning comes the arm of a suit jacket beneath her palm, giving it an anchor.
In slight shock Emilia glances upward, catching sight of those black locks and a hint of steel eyes that don't even glance her way. But the gesture of a steady arm was something unexpectedly wonderful that made her heart beat in a different rhythm for that singular moment in which she met those eyes. It was as if the world had stopped between her heart beats and decided that for just a moment everything was ok, no matter how much danger she was in.
She thought to herself as she walked through the gathering flocks, how it was a fairytale in every way. Or at least, almost everyway. She supposed she didn't quite have that prince charming that would seep her off her feet to a happy ending, but she did have a Knyte by her side and the Cinderella gown, every eye on the mysterious woman at the ball as she sweeps into the hall on the arm of an insignificant man. Though to Emilia, the man was anything but insignificant. He was her Knyte, her protector, her wall, and at the moment her only anchor to a world not filled with the hidden villains in nice clothes that surrounded her now, every dessert a poison apple and her mother the unsuspecting princess. At the very least she were not naïve enough to believe friends of the feather wrapped crows around her, after all a flock was called a Murder and it was difficult for her to believe that the specific flock had committed multiple.
She couldn't help but notice as they continue to step lightly between the unblinking, beady eyed scavengers that they are following one particular pair that threaded through the crowds, merely following the long strided lead of Mr. Knyte just slow and steady enough for her not to trip over the too high heels as she leans on his arm for support with eyes fixated straight ahead on some unmoving point that she couldn't even identify as everything was a mere blur.
"May I offer you a drink?" The question, seeming to come from thin air has Emilia jumping so high in the air that she is surprised she doesn't make an actual sound with the impact of her heels back onto the marble as a gentle hand takes hold of her other elbow in an instant to steady her, the steady tingles telling her precisely who it is.
"No." She snaps quickly, clearing her throat to correct herself quickly, "Thank you I mean, but no thank you." She says quickly, trying to offer a trembling smile but knowing it is only a grimace at best. The man quickly bowing out of the way and not even bothering to offer Mr. Knyte one, as if he knows that he is not a proper guest, that he is only there because of her. Then again, for all she knew, the server could be posing, offering her a poison in attempts to rid Mr. Delmont of even the smallest asset.
But, in the momentary interruption, her eyes wander back to the crowd and come across those of someone looking her way, of someone that is refusing to look away. But as soon as she spies the eyes framed by thick blonde lashes, they are gone, a head of golden hair disappearing with a swirl of typical black suit into a midst of other ill-disguised monsters.
Convulsively, Emilia grips tighter to that thick sleeve beneath her palm, there was just something sturdy about that arm, something that kept her grounded. And yet, there was something that scared her about it too, something that as trying smother her, stifle the part of her determined to get the truth even if she died trying. Because no matter everything he had told her, everything he had protected her from, she knew in the pit of her stomach that there was even more that he didn't want her to know.
Secrets were what kept her mother safe, and being in the spotlight of the truth just painted the biggest damned bulls eye on her chest from the moment she emerged in that tabloid and became a hated party girl to her mother. So to keep her mom safe, she had to play along, even if it were only for a few moments longer.
"Miss Emilia, I suggest we meet up with Mr. Delmont and your mother soon." Mr. Knyte told her, his breath upon that outer shell of ear rattling her from the revery that gripped Emilia's mind as she only had eyes for the vacant pocket of dance floor that had been watching her.
"Of course." She whispers back, struggling against only her own will to pull from his comfortable chest and relaxed grip on her other elbow to keep walking. Because no matter how she mistrusted him or didn't know him, the way her body wished to be pressed against his felt only natural, and far more welcoming than pulling away from the safety is arms provided was.
Still holding onto that sleeve and shoving every measly desire to be in that bedamned man's arms, she couldn't force herself to lose contact entirely knowing the lifeline of his sleeve might be the only thing holding her from utter peril that lay in wait at this party.
In a momentary blur that left her head spinning they were once more to the right and slightly behind her beloved mother and the man she despised more than any in this world, Mr. Delmont. She couldn't help the brief look of disgust that crossed her face at seeing him dare to lay a filthy blood stained palm on her mother's waist, holding her to his side as many just married couples would do at a party like this.
"Oh! My dear, there you are, finally." Her mother practically growls at spying her daughter having the audacity to not stay by her side and be introduced to boring but important colleagues of Mr. Delmont's work and other life. " I wish to introduce you to Tony Luppino, a long standing friend of your step-father and the host this evening." She says, almost robotically gesturing to a tall grey-haired man with no-nonsense nose and lips so thin it could be a line. Even his eyebrows were straight enough to be styled with a ruler, the only thing curved seemed to be the receding line of his hair at the temples as he didn't even offer a hand in hello.
Emilia's first impression of the man that he was not one to cross, her second being that he trusted no one, and her third that he did not like her or her mother a single bit, thought the new Mrs. Delmont didn't seem to be catching on to any of those as she merely smiles not noticing the tenseness around her.
"Mr. Luppino, this is my daughter Emilia." She finishes, quickly separating her from Mr. Knyte so that she may introduce herself to the man that would kill her in an instant, no matter the number of witnesses she was sure.
Her eyes wander quickly to Mr. Delmont as she bows her head in a silent greeting to the man as his narrow ever so slightly and her mind gathers the warning labeled in that glare as she stands up straight once more, forcing herself to croak a reply of greeting out of fear. "It is a pleasure Mr. Luppino, thank you for inviting me so graciously to your celebration. May I ask what it is for?" She asks, her fake smile faltering immediately as she meets the man's terrible eyes.
They are soulless, all-life having departed long ago as only silence meets her question and her mother lets out an awkward chuckle to hint at the utter embarrassment she felt for her daughter having asked such a question. Though personally, Emilia felt it was a fair thing to ask given she had no clue what it was for that she had been forced into a dress that had her unable to breathe, shoes that blistered even while she sat, and makeup so full she could feel it clogging every pore while she stood there waiting for a response with cold sweat dripping down her back with the nerves.
"My second son's birthday, Ms. Delmont, he is of age this evening." He says so stiffly that she almost thought his face would crack from the strain his mouth was putting on it. His eyes do not give a hint of how he feels or if she should have known that already, if she had said something wrong, or if perhaps she had even messed up so badly with that simple question that she would be dead before her carriage were a pumpkin once more.
"Then allow me to wish him a happy birthday through you sir." She trembles, taking the smallest step backwards as she links her hands before her, that smile barely staying on her lips as she wishes to escape back to the car, back to Mr. Delmont's mansion, even back to her stifling room so she may lock herself in and never have to deal with this man who's very presence threatened her life.
"Or you may do it yourself, Miss Emilia." Comes a voice smooth as silk and deadly as a viper, slithering through the air to ghost over her skin and bring ever growing goosebumps to the surface, even her hair standing on end in greeting to the slippery voice. A man, tall and thin with a mane of golden locks styled upon his head, straight white teeth flashing down at her from his considerable height. Her eyes catching on a pair of hypnotic pale green eyes like a cat or snake's in color, stealing her breath from her lungs as he takes on of her trembling hands in his and lightly presses his lips to the back of it.
"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance at last, Mr. Delmont has told us much about you even if he never spoke of your beauty." A heat rushing to her cheeks at the compliment, Emilia looks away trying to recover from shock and embarrassment in the moment.
"Th-the pleasure is mine Mr. Luppino." Emilia stammers in response, gently withdrawing her hand from his grasp uncomfortably and holding it in front of her with the other hand, giving a plead for damsel in distress as she bows her head in a cowed fashion, attempting to escape in a not so subtle way.
"Please, it is Lukas." He corrects her quickly, holding up a hand to stop her from saying a single thing more as he takes both of her hands in his larger one, not taking a no for an answer as he pulls her just a little closer to his tall body so he may look directly down at her and she must crane her neck to see his face. "
"Now, may I ask you for a dance? It would after all be inappropriate to deny the birthday boy a simple waltz." His voice, though teasing holds an edge, something hard enough to tell her that refusal is not something he will accept.
In a desperate attempt at a final escape she bats her lashes in response and murmurs back, "I would hate for you to dance with someone as clumsy as me, I am certain there are other lovely ladies much lighter on their feet that you may ask." But she knows before she finishes that such a plea is useless as she spies the determination in the young man's eyes, her heart sinking to somewhere in her heels.
"Then I shall have to be your guide, I am certain to be graceful enough for the both of us." He humms in response, turning her hand upon his arm to lead her baffled form unto a a spot lit dance floor. As she only watched the bulls eye on her chest narrow with every step she took on the arm of a snake.