Keegan awakes to the sounds of her maid’s gentle nudging, encouraging her to get up and get ready for the day. 

Bustling around her, the maids begin to tidy up her bed and assist with getting her ready. Adorned with a light dress the color of sable and her hair tucked behind one ear, she moves to the dining hall with heavy footsteps.

Today is the day.

Pushing open the door to the dining room, she is greeted with warm scents of tea, eggs and the sweet aroma of apples. Her mind elsewhere, she absentmindedly chews her breakfast and sighs heavily. 

The day I return to high society. 

Another heavy sigh as she drops her head. With no one watching, she can be a little more unrestrained with her reactions. 

Picking her head back up, she mentally goes over her checklist.

The gardens have been renovated, the furnishings are being arranged today, and her dress is on the rack in her room. The florist is scheduled to visit later this afternoon and the musicians sent word of their arrival yesterday evening. Everything seems to be lining up just fine.

It almost feels as if I never left. 

Another sigh. 

Suddenly losing her appetite with the rising sun, she submits herself to her maids, who patiently pamper her until the early evening. 

With the sounds of the final preparations of the ball serving as ambience for Kai, he peeks out the window for what felt like the hundredth time. The duchess invited him to her ball, of course, without any pressure. He could refuse or leave whenever he wanted to, as she had made an alibi for him in the last few weeks. 

His nobleman name became Viscount Kai Leverus Buchanan, a branch family of the DeMasses who was visiting from the North. The certificate of this title was kept in the drawer of his desk, while Keegan held a copy. She mentioned that she had already sent the records to the King. 

Opening the door to look out into the hallway, the busy noises of the staff somehow comfort him. Stepping down the hall and heading to the balcony of the stairs, he takes in the view of the ballroom with awe. 

Golden runners lay across long tables set with various fruits, snacks and beverages. There seems to be enough to feed an entire army. As Kai watches, a portly man with a smile on his face was wheeling in a very large cake, positioning at the end of table along with huge trays of desserts. Kai felt he could smell the sugar from here. 

The pillars of the hall are decorated with swirling ribbons, at which the base of each pillar houses a beautiful circle of roses. Kai wondered if they smelled as good as the ones in the garden. 

Long red rugs were run in various parts of the marble floor, leading guests to refreshments or to rest in sets of lounges, stocked with tissues, mirrors and fans. There were attendants getting their trays of hor d’oeuvres, dressed in white and gold with red neckties to match the theme of their surroundings. 

A noise, slightly startling Kai, brought his attention to underneath the balcony he peered over, a group of musicians tuning their instruments. He looked wide eyed at the display of timber that was crafted into such exquisite shapes to emit the sounds he was listening to now. The wide expanse of marble floor would serve as the dancefloor for which the sounds of the instruments would flirt upon. 

Resting his hands on the railing, a small sense of unease washes over him. Sensing that the time everyone would begin to arrive was near, he turns and heads to the only place Keegan promised would be off limits to all guests except himself: the back gardens next to her rooms. The sound of the tuning instruments follows him almost all the way to the gates.

Walking up to the doors leading into the ballroom, Keegan attempts to wrangle the frown upon her face. She has been steeling herself all day for the nosy, pretentious and curious people that have filled her ballroom. Her goal was simple in theory: talk about magic. The challenge would be two things, to keep the guests talking about it until she could hear any clues, and to branch the conversation into magic in the first place. In order to do this, Keegan had invited the young girl she had been sponsoring to perform some light magic before the dancing would begin. 

Squaring her shoulders, the sounds of the ballroom were squeezing through the cracks in the doors, flowing in by her feet, her face, tantalizing her ears with a beautiful song. Feeling herself calm down and settle, she motions for the attendants to open the doors to the balcony and stairs.

“Announcing Duchess Keegan, reigning Duke of the Pimal Region!” An attendant shouts, and all grew still. It had been several years since anyone had seen the Duchess, and here she was, hosting a grand ball for all the nobles after not so much as a peep. Anyone with any social standing would attend tonight, unless they lived under a rock.

Keegan steps past the doorways into the light of the balcony, her shimmering red and black dress seemingly sucking up the light of the ballroom. All eyes were on her, but she didn’t meet any of them, instead keeping her gaze on a hanging taper at the back end of the wall, helping her remain calm. 

As she descends, the people in the ballroom have mixed emotions, some hide their smiles or frowns behind a fan, others greet her with a bow, while even more began to whisper amongst themselves. 

Arriving at the bottom of the stairs to the sound of whispers, a deep voice greets her first. 

“Duchess Keegan” A middle aged man, Count Travis and his family bow to her in reverence. One of the family members was not in attendance, his absence like a presence in itself- heavy. An emptiness threatens to steal away Keegan’s resolve. 

“We are honored to be in your presence once again.” As he straightens, Keegan meets his eyes and gives a warm smile, something she had practiced to herself in the mirror dozens upon dozens of times in the past few weeks. While she truly did like the Travis family, no amount of familiarity would ignite her soul at this time of her life, so she had to make sure she would not burn anymore bridges with her grief. Especially for the Travis family, who she truly held dear.

“Thank you all for coming, it’s my pleasure to host you.” She nods to them. “Please enjoy yourselves.” She motions to the ballroom, filled with delicacies and entertainment. 

The Countess looks to her husband before speaking “Duchess, are you in need of an escort this evening? Or perhaps some company?” She asks. 

Keegan shifts her smile to Countess Travis and deftly diverts the offer.

“Some company would be lovely, Countess. Would you like to accompany me?” 

Surprised by Keegan’s offer, Countess Travis beams and accepts. 

“I’d be delighted!” She exclaims. 

As if in waiting, a multitude of women crowd around the Duchess and her companion, eager to speak their turn.

“Duchess, it’s a pleasure to meet you again! Do you remember me from Marchioness Davis’s tea party?” One young women said. 

“If it pleases you, I’ve been growing rare varieties of roses, would you accept them?” Another more mature woman asks. 

“Roses?! Life’s pleasure is in tea, not flowers! Please accept a barrel of our finest tea we’ve imported from overseas!” A man, seemingly wanting to establish backing for trade, interjects from the back, having just joined the frenzy.

All the faces surrounding Keegan start to feel like they are consuming her air, and she begins to feel dizzy. Noticing this, Countess Travis moves to interject. 

“Please excuse us, we were on our way to get refreshments.” She says loudly, taking Keegan’s arm and leading her away from the crowd, looking pointedly at her family.

Count Travis and his children engage in conversation with the crowd, effectively stopping any pursuing nobles. 

“Who taught you tea was the best import?! It’s obviously spices!” Count Travis laughs loudly, drawing attention to himself as his children seed themselves among the crowd. 

“Thank you” Keegan mumbles to Countess Travis, who is observing her with concern. 

“Duchess, I will be frank. Why are you holding a ball when you are clearly not ready for all the people in attendance?” Countess Travis, being the woman that she is, was concerned for Keegan and could tell immediately that Keegan didn’t really want to be here. 

Sitting themselves down in a small lounge away from prying eyes, Countess Travis waves to an attendant to get beverages. 

Keegan would normally challenge the question, but Countess Travis, who was the mother of her late husband, was not a person who held ill intentions in her heart. 

“Countess,” Keegan began, “while I cannot delve too deeply, I am trying to gain knowledge.” She sips from the crystal glass one of the attendants gave to her. 

She sighs. 

“Specifically, knowledge about magic and it’s workings.” 

Countess ponders for a moment before her face falls. 

Keegan reads her expression. 

“If I could bring him back, I would have already.” Keegan says quietly. 

Countess Travis closes her eyes for a moment. 

“Forgive me, Duchess, I allowed my emotions to get the better of me.” She straightens in her seat. 

“Pay it no mind.” Keegan says, and means it. 

Countess Travis brings out a fan and starts waving it frantically in front of her face. 

“Magic, hm?” Countess Travis has a strange glint in her eyes as she shifts in her seat, eyeing the crowd. 

Suddenly she gets up, and says to Keegan.

“I’ll invite you to the manor and we can have a proper conversation over tea, if you’d allow me to assist you.” And she curtsies. 

Keegan’s eyes start stinging, as old memories lull to the surface of her mind in blurry hues. Times of smiles and meals together. Moments that felt like a lifetime ago. 

Unable to give a proper response, Keegan nods and bows her head. 

“Thank you.” she says.

“You’re welcome, dear” Countess Travis says with a gentle cheer, her expression soft. She gathers up her dress and bustles out into the crowd, leaving Keegan alone in the lounge. 

Gathering up her strength, Keegan begins to mentally prepare to go back out into the crowd when she is approached by a group of ladies, most of whom were younger than Keegan herself. 

“I never knew a host to take a break so soon after entering the hall.” One of the woman starts, a patronizing smile on her lips.

“Don’t you know that throwing a party is exhausting?” Another chimes. 

“Especially when you’re trying to fake your grief.” 

Keegan’s demeanor turns cool as she calmly regards the ladies. She waits for more of their bait. 

“Oh didn’t you know Lady Carissa?” Yet another brings out her fan and starts to fan her face, her curls bouncing with the exaggerated force. 

“Duke DeMasses’s death wasn’t an accident, but a murder! Of course she would be grieving her husband!” Baroness Pontia puts on a woeful expression. 

Keegan’s hand stills before her cup touches her lips. 

“These are dangerous accusations, Baroness!” Countess Kavill says loudly, drawing attention from the people nearby, waiting for the Duchess to emerge from her lounge. 

“Shouldn’t we tell the guard, so they can reopen the case?”

“Why should we, when the guards can arrest the criminal right here?” Baroness Pontia points her fan at Keegan, who is trying very hard to still her shaking hand. Countless emotions swirl in her mind as she takes in the ladies’ words. 

Are these the extent of the rumors in the capital? 

Keegan’s head swims as the crowd around them begins to whisper once more. She is frozen on the spot, unable to make a single retort in her shock. 

The three ladies in front of Keegan are all smiling as if they’ve won, taking Keegan’s silence as admittance. Then the mass begins to quiet.

“Dangerous accusations, indeed.” A male voice intercedes, and all eyes focus on the young man in front of them. 

“Prince Coryssis!” One of the ladies exclaim as the crowd bows before him. 

“We greet the Star of the Empire!” The others hurriedly curtsy.

Keegan gets up to greet him as well, but he interrupts her movement. 

“Oh, dear cousin, please do not worry about formalities here. This is your ball, and I have the honor of attending. Please forgive Father, he sends his regrets that he could not make it back in time from diplomatic talks with our neighbor.” Prince Coryssis smiles warmly at Keegan, offering a small bow to her. 

“I look forward to seeing the sun of the Empire when he gets back, then.” Keegan says, grateful her cousin snapped her out of her earlier state. 

“Now, what was it that I heard about arresting a murderer?” Prince Coryssis turns his gaze to the young ladies who had slandered a member of the royal family in front of him and the Empire. 

“N- No, Prince Coryssis, we were only just talking about the terrible rumors surrounding Duchess Keegan!” Baroness Pontia looks nervously at her companions, urging them with her eyes to play along. 

“Yes, that’s right! She’s suffering while her husband’s murderer is still out there!” Countess Kavill exclaims and Lady Carissa, daughter of Count Barva nods feverishly. 

“It would benefit you all greatly not to lie to my face.” Prince Coryssis wears an expression that sends a chill even through Keegan’s spine. 

He’s so scary when he gets like that.

When they were children, she would chide him for using that face around other people, but here he was, using it to come to her aid. Keegan silently thanks Cory's stubbornness.

A palpable silence fills the room. 

“Let me be clear.” He clearly raises his voice for all to hear. “Any who dare to accuse a member of the royal family for the murder of their own spouse should expect to be taken to trial for slander. Let me remind you that I am the one that oversees those trials.” His eyes land on the ladies that were speaking to Keegan just moments before. 

His words have weight to them, as he is the current overseer of the many trials that are brought to the royal family. He also has a reputation for being particularly ruthless against the filth of the nobility. The same eyes with which he judges were the same eyes he leveled at the ladies. 

“P- Please forgive us.” Countess Kavil’s hands tremble on her skirts as she curtsies as low as she can. 

“I am not the one who should be hearing your apology.” Prince Coryssis points out, his voice going even lower in a warning. 

The ladies turn toward Keegan and start crying out. 

“Please forgive us, Duchess! We spoke out of turn!” Baroness Pontia exclaims. 

Keegan, put on the spot, glances at her cousin, smiling unabashedly at her, as if he had just gifted her an expensive trinket. 

“Thank you.” Keegan says, more to Cory than the ladies. 

The women straighten, their faces all different colors of crimson, and they don’t meet anyone’s eyes as they scurry from the ballroom. 

“Please excuse us, then!”

The crowd begins to break away, but not before Prince Coryssis bellows and claps.

“Let’s not let this damper the night and our merriment!” To which the crowd disperses completely, understanding that they were being dismissed. 

"I'll take my thanks later, dear cousin!"

Before walking away, Prince Coryssis winks at Keegan, and walks away with a smile on his face.