The first day of the Imperial Ball had ended abruptly. Abella had known that the Emperor would have wanted her to make a larger impact, and so she had to return to the ballroom at some point. When she did, she danced with some others around her age or slightly older, making sure her set smile was always on her face. All she thought during that time was how tiring.

Abella only saw Dietrich once after the incident on the terrace, and he had turned away from her almost instantly. She had no idea why, nor could she afford to spend the time finding out. After all, she had a waiter to subdue.

One intruder tied up later, Abella returned to her room and was so exhausted that she simply fell asleep.

In the morning, she was pulled off to be dressed up all over again. This time, her dress was a graceful navy blue that faded out to a lighter shade of blue towards the bottom of the dress. A couple layers of fabric to her dress made them flow out in folds towards the grounds. Once again, it was an off-shoulder dress with blue and white ribbons on the sleeves, lacey frills around the top. At her chest there were light blue fabric flowers that went down to her waistline, then flowed out in smaller ones. Pearls were dotted around her dress, almost like stars against a dark night sky.

Her hair was tied up in a bun with her bangs hanging out, framing her small and pretty face. A frilled lace bow the same shade of navy as her dress was in her bun, the two longer parts hanging down as long as her bangs and the looped parts sitting on top of the bun.

Abella sat still while makeup was applied on her face, and when it was done, a maid whispered in her ear, “His Highness the Crown Prince has commanded me to inform you that he will be late to the Ball, and that you should enter first.”

Abella felt her insides twist. The Crown Prince was probably making fun of her, sending her to enter a Ball alone when she had a fiancé. Well, she had expected that much, but she couldn’t say it didn’t hurt.

“Alright,” Abella smiled brightly and went straight to the Ballroom.

“Announcing the arrival of Abella Rose Silverstein, fiancée of His Highness the Crown Prince,” the doorman said. She turned to glance at him – he was smirking. He had intentionally mentioned her engagement to emphasise that she had come alone, and already Abella could hear the whispers and gossip coming from the nobles.

“But His Highness seemed so happy yesterday,” someone whispered.

“She must not be able to satisfy him. Wives only have one duty, and she failed at that already!” Someone else mocked, and Abella could feel the burning of a mix of glares and glances she was getting. It didn’t quite bother her, but she knew that her reputation had fallen already quite considerately. She shook her head softly – reputation didn’t matter. Not when she was going to die at some point. Glancing around, she thought to herself with a smile, that man will die to a wild boar. That lady will get murdered. That old man will get into a carriage accident and become immobile. That woman will succumb to illness.

The list of people who would die went on and on – Abella couldn’t quite remember them all, but she felt more at ease. Abella, ignoring the whispers, entered the room, a quick swish of her fingers tripping up the doorman with wind magic. He let out a yelp behind her, and Abella smiled a little brighter. Abella herself remained silent while she gracefully walked down the stairs, unbothered by the whispers. Most were the usual that she had heard before, but one comment made her ears perk up.

“How vulgar of her – is she deaf? Can she not hear the whispers? And she still dares to walk around with her head held high and a confident gaze? How shameless. It is clear that she is the daughter of a peasant – they both must be equally shameless. How dare a mere lowly urchin crawl into a noble’s bed?” Abella felt anger burn inside her. She reached the bottom of the staircase and turned to glare at the lady who had spoken – it was an old but elegant-looking lady wearing a purple dress, a spread fan held in front of her face to only show her glaring eyes.

Abella looked at the lady dead in the eyes and took a deep breath. The lady had insulted her mother… and even if her mother hadn’t loved her, Abella had once loved her mother. Once. And now, that affection she once harboured was coming back to her in a flow of rage. I knew one day I would regret loving her… it’s come back to bite me.

“Countess Elizabeth Sonte,” Abella smiled. “I did not quite hear you. Would you care to repeat what you said?” The ballroom was silent. Nobles, of course, loved their gossip, and a fight brewing between two ladies, a sophisticated popular Countess with the lower status, or the illegitimate daughter of a Duke, the fiancée to the Crown Prince. Abella could imagine the rumours and gossip that would follow her around, but she knew insults such as this were all a trap. If she stayed quiet and took it all silently, she would seem naïve and afraid. If she spoke out about it and picked a fight, she would be considered rude. I’d rather be thought of as rude rather than naïve. I’ve been there once, done that, and now, I am not going to take this quietly anymore.

“I said that your mother is a vulgar lowly thing,” the Countess replied boldly. “How rude of you, though! This is all some harmless gossip, and you dare to come down and yell at me? It is clear that you are an illegitimate child – only a child born out of wedlock would be as ignorant and foolish as you.”

“Countess,” Abella paused, a dangerous look dancing in her eyes. “It appears you are mistaken about something. I actually have some sort of noble blood flowing through my veins, whether it be tainted or not. However, you do not have a single drop of aristocratic blood – your title was bought from money, was it not? As I see it, you are the foolish one here. In addition, there is a clear difference in our statuses, and yet you look down on me and insult me. I am the fiancée of the Crown Prince and the daughter of Duke Silverstein, whether I be a legitimate child or not. I still have his blood running through me, and I will not stand around and let some commoner who believes she has the right to aristocracy insult me.”