Selene settled herself in a sofa near, but not too close to, the edge of the dance floor. Her father had requested she make herself available for potential acquaintances during the celebration. Though his intentions appeared to be pure, she couldn't help but roll her eyes at the thought of finding friends among the present crowd.

“Do you really have no intention of dancing?” her brother, and partner for the celebration, asked as he relaxed into the sofa next to her.

“I have only been awake for four months. It seems too soon to dance, no?” Selene replied, delicately sipping the champagne he had handed her.

“If you say so,” William smirked, more than happy to experience the dancing from afar.

Noble ladies began to circle Selene like predatory birds, waiting for the perfect moment to strike, ideally without interrupting the conversation she was immersed in. As her conversation with William came to a mutual pause, snip-its of the already churning gossip began to float their direction.

“... quite stunning...”

“... more well-mannered than I was expecting.”

“Could they have exaggerated...”

“... seems tired now...”

“... genius like her eldest sister...”

“.. all an act...”

“... holds her head too high...”

“She was pleasant enough...”

It soon became clear that the ladies weren't the only ones waiting for an opening. For potential suitors, this celebration was akin to her debut in society, although it was happening a few years late.

Claiming her first dance would, if nothing else, give the appearance of favoritism by the Vizio household, granting temporary political influence until her true engagement announcement. When it became clear her brother was hesitating to request her first dance, albeit due to her current condition, an opening appeared.

Many potential suitors intended to be patient and respectful, but there were a handful that were shameless. Viscount Caitberry fell into that category. While others inched forward bashfully, a man with dark blond hair and green eyes darted forth with forced grandeur.

“Would you do me the honor of having your first dance, Lady Selene?” he asked with a sly smile, extending his hand towards her expectantly.

“Oh, but Viscount, is it not your first dance at the celebration as well? I am sure your betrothed would be hurt if I were to take that from you,” Selene smiled innocently, tilting her head as she replied.

“It seems she is more interested in spending time with her friends than me this evening. Since not a single person here can take their eyes off your radiating beauty, I thought this would be the perfect way to gain her attention,” the Viscount replied with a sickly sweet voice.

“That is quite unfortunate, Viscount. I am very sad to see you forced to resort to such tactics. But I am afraid I cannot help you this time,” Selene displayed the picture-perfect face of disappointment as she clasped a hand over her chest. “I am embarrassed to admit, but I am unable to dance. I am well enough to attend this fine celebration, but not well enough to fully enjoy it.”

“Of course, how neglectful of me,” the Viscount bowed his head apologetically. “However, I cannot help but think it would be no trouble at all, Lady Selene. You appear to walk on air. Surely, I am more than capable of supporting you as we dance.”

“Oh my, how bold!” Selene teased lightly, feigning a gasp. “Unfortunately, I don't think we know each other well enough for you to pull me so close. It seems that we can only hope our conversation catching the eye of your beloved is enough to give you the attention you have been deprived of.”

The Viscount had given up for now, but he was notorious for pursuing power. Their exchange had ended pleasantly enough, but her responses had still been a blow to his pride. He left cursing himself, her sweetness leaving him with no ill words aimed in her direction.