The debut finally arrived, the Dragun duchy bustling with guests and elegant carriages lining up outside the mansion, creating a competition of grandeur. The ball was the talk of the town, with people eager to secure an invitation. As night fell, the mansion was bathed in the hues of the evening sky, a symbol of the Dragun's hospitality. Gossip swirled around Natasha, the mysterious newcomer, as everyone speculated about her and her connection to the duchy. Arya found it amusing, observing the human behavior akin to ants swarming around sugar.
Holding Ivan's arm like an elegant lady, Arya entered the ballroom. The bustling crowd fell silent at the sight of them, enchanted by their presence, as if God has crafted them with the utmost delicacy. They exuded elegance and nobility, commanding attention as they gazed down at the gathered crowd from the second floor.
Taking Ivan's hand, Arya gracefully descended the stairs, her gown flowing with each step. Ivan's unwavering gaze never left her, captivated by her beauty in the mauve dress, matching the color of her eyes. His adoration for his wife was evident in his eyes, causing the crowd to gasp in surprise; the rumors of the duke being madly in love with his wife were indeed true. Unaware of Ivan's gaze or the attention they garnered, Arya focused on carefully navigating the stairs, ensuring not to wrinkle her dress.
It felt as though they were the main characters of the evening's ball, greeted with polite bows as they descended. As hosts, they engaged in small talk with the guests. Moments later, As Natasha made her grand entrance, the room fell into a hush, captivated by her presence. Her partner was none other than the Ivan's cousin count Leonard Diarist. She moved with an ethereal grace, like a celestial being descending from the heavens. Her beauty was like that of a fairy, bathed in the moonlight's soft glow, casting a spell on all who beheld her.
Her royal blue dress draped flawlessly over her figure, enhancing every curve with elegance. A polite smile graced her lips, radiating warmth and sophistication. Even Arya, known for her unpredictability, couldn't help but be awestruck by Natasha's composed demeanor. She felt like she was looking at a beautiful stranger. It was a moment etched in the minds of all who witnessed it, a vision of beauty that would linger in their memories forever.
Natasha bowed gracefully like a polite lady, but the mesmerized guests made her feel overwhelmed as she wasn't accustomed to such attention. Arya signaled the musicians to start the first dance, kicking off the ball. "May I have the honor, my lady?" Ivan asked Arya for the first dance, and as the duchess, she accepted his hand. Natasha also joined the dance with Lord Leonard, and both pairs took to the center of the room as the music began.
"You look exceptionally beautiful today. I can't take my eyes off of you," Ivan complimented Arya. "Thank you," she replied shortly, cutting off further conversation. Arya's mood indicated she wasn't fully enjoying the dance; although their eyes locked, neither spoke a word.
Their graceful dance captivated the crowd of guests, and as the first song ended, Natasha bowed to her partner and was promptly asked to dance again. Ivan, however, didn't let Arya go, and as the second song began, others also joined in the dance. Despite her discomfort in the long dress and her aching feet, Arya had to dance again. Annoyed, she frowned, eager to end the song and rest.
Noticing Natasha's energetic enjoyment contrasted with her own fatigue, Arya sighed. Throughout the dance, Arya kept glancing around but avoided facing Ivan, her partner. This irritated him, and with a strong twirl, he pulled her close to him. Shocked, Arya looked at him, and he grinned, saying, "Finally."
"Why are you avoiding your partner? It's basic etiquette to maintain eye contact while dancing," Ivan said, smirking. "I don't want to, that's why," Arya truthfully replied, unintentionally hurting him. He had promised not to be hurt and pressure her until she was ready to accept him.
"Hmm, then," he responded, twirling her to briefly exchange partners before Arya found herself back in Ivan's arms. "All I have to do is give you a reason then," he said alluringly. The onlookers were shocked to see him smile like that, momentarily forgetting the dance. Arya fake coughed, "My lord, please restrain yourself."
The song came to an end, and Arya let out a sigh of relief as she took a seat at the nearest table, hoping to relax a little. However, her hopes were in vain as a crowd of ladies swarmed in her direction. "Greetings, Your Grace, I'm the lady of House Quarmby," "My lady, I'm the eldest daughter of Baron Smith," "You are so lovely tonight, my lady," they exclaimed, causing her headache to worsen. Glancing at Natasha, it seemed they were both in the same predicament. Arya wanted to dismiss them all, but as the lady of the house, she knew she must attend to the guests. With endurance, she engaged in conversation with the ladies.
Flattering Arya was the main theme of their conversation, but their curiosity about Natasha was also evident on their faces. They showered Natasha with compliments, adoring her for the moment, but Arya knew that if they discovered she wasn't of noble blood, they would turn on her like hungry hyenas. That's the reality of aristocratic society—little regard for one's heart, with lineage being paramount.
"Is she a member of a vassal house? She must be the Lily of the Valley," remarked the woman across from Arya. To the uninitiated, it sounded like a compliment, but Arya sensed the underlying meaning behind her words. 'This woman,' Arya pondered how to cut her off, 'asking about Natasha's virtue on her debut?'
"Of course, one cannot help but admire her in that light, just like an Lilly, she's such a lovely young woman. Although she doesn't wander back and forth in the stable, she's quite adept at handling horses," Arya remarked, emphasizing the word "stable." Hearing this, all the ladies at the table cast sinister glances at the woman, who everyone knew was meeting with their stableman while her husband was bedridden. Flustered and embarrassed, the woman abruptly got up, "Um, if you'll excuse me!" After Arya exerted such strong pressure, the others didn't even consider pointing fingers at Natasha.
The ball was drawing to a close when, just outside, a monster broke through the mansion wall and entered the residence. It was at least 10 feet long, its large body rushing towards the ballroom. Panic ensued as people screamed and ran, while guards hurried to evacuate the guests and knights marched together to confront the monster. "Go, hide inside. It's not safe here," Ivan told Arya, urging her to run as he joined the knights.
Terrified by the scene, Natasha's face paled in fear. Arya grabbed her hand and said, "Do what I taught you. Remember, believe in yourself, you are the hope." "But what about you? I can't leave you here alone," Natasha voiced her concern. "Did you forget? I am the phoenix," Arya replied with clear arrogance, suited for the moment. While Arya busied herself with evacuating the guests, Natasha followed her instructions.
Natasha ran towards the monster. "Watch out!" David shouted, but the monster's large palm struck her before anyone could react. Everyone initially thought she was a pitiful woman who died during her own debut. However, their pity turned to surprise when the monster groaned in pain.
A massive magic circle appeared in the sky, and a large sword adorned with ancient language descended, piercing the monster and causing its miserable death. This event shocked the onlookers. The girl who seemed destined to die had single-handedly defeated the monster that even the Knights were struggling against.
"It's a miracle!" "A saintess!" "Our savior!" People praised her. Surprised by her own power, Natasha turned back to look at Arya, expecting praise like the others. However, amidst the crowds, Arya stood motionless.
As if she had already predicted this, a smile spread across her face. At that moment, a thought passed through Natasha's mind: did she plan this attack? Both ladies looked at each other, one satisfied as her plan was a big success, and the other terrified just thinking about the woman before her. No one knew how a monster could break into the duchy, and while it was under investigation, there was no proof to indicate it was someone's doing. Although the ball ended in disaster, Natasha was able to carve her place in society. Now, no one cared about her origin; everyone referred to her as a saintess, the Lily of the North, and more. Only praises for her echoed among the people.
Everything went according to Arya's plan. Natasha's foothold in society was now so deep that no one could shake her off, and if Arya were to push a little further, the vassals would be delighted to have her as the next Duchess. With that, she could also proceed with the divorce much more easily. Just thinking about it brought a satisfied smile to her face. In the embrace of the spring wind, she enjoyed the tranquility of the clam dusk.
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