Liberty counted in her head, keeping time to the beat. She barely spared a glance for her partner as they twirled under the glittering chandeliers. Her attention was focused on the bedazzled and gilded crowd that ebbed and flowed through the ostentatious ballroom, keeping track of her marks as she twirled around the dance floor.
The lilting music from the orchestra flowed over the room as they turned and dipped in the steps of the dance. She had been a fan of all kinds of music back home, even enjoying some classical when the mood struck her, though it wasn’t her favorite for daily listening. Since waking up in this place, she had, however, been served a steady diet of nothing but classical. At this point, she would kill for some variety. How she longed for the music she had taken for granted before. Dre, Snoop, Eminem. Aretha, Whitney, Arianna. Fallout Boy, Metallica, Linkin Park. Hell, she would settle for some Elvis, Beatles, or even the Beach Boys. Who knew she would miss those Saturday nights at the club so much?
After months, she could really use the release of stress that being swallowed by the moving crowd on the dark dance floor, letting the thumping beat of the music take over her body, gave her. Belting out lyrics that spoke to her mood, surrounded by her friends and strangers who felt the same energy pulsing through them. She allowed herself a moment to let her imagination run a little wild, imagining the ballroom filled with flashing lights and thumping bass. She almost lost her composure as she viewed the elegant throng breaking into modern dances.
A small snicker did escape, despite her best efforts, as her own brain hit her with a sneak attack, setting the music in the imaginary scene to Vanilla Ice. A hand tightening on hers had her snapping back to the present and straightening her features back into her polite mask, sparing a small smile to placate her partner. She took a moment to wonder how Helena and the boys were doing with her special project for them. She would have to check on their progress soon.
Shaking her head and mentally reminding herself of the mission, she refocused. After initially spotting Viscount Torrington a few times shortly after she had arrived, she had lost him in the crowds, but she wasn't too worried. She knew where he would be when it came time for the main event.
Initially, she had intended to be a wallflower for the night, slipping in and out of the crowd unnoticed. However, despite her choice of a plain gown and several attempts to lurk behind pillars, her dance card had filled obscenely quickly. At first, she had been a little confused as to why she couldn't shake the never-ending line of young gentlemen that seemed to find her as if they had a homing beacon attached to her skirt. During one of her failed attempts to hide, she had overheard a few young ladies who had gathered together to gossip, and they enlightened her.
"Did you see what she was wearing?" One of them, in a soft pink gown, tittered from behind her fan.
"I know! Who would wear such a drab color to a ball? Let alone one hosted by the Imperial Family! One would think she was in mourning with that frightful color." Another, in light blue, rejoined. This was met with giggles.
"It's as if she isn't even attempting to keep up her family's standing. Obviously, with the beautiful gown the Countess is wearing, the family could afford better. Does she think her father will automatically secure the best match for her so she doesn't even have to put in any effort?" Another, in the pale green of spring grass, tossed in.
"And yet, as soon as she skulked into the ballroom in those widow's weeds, all the best young gentlemen flocked to her. I even saw the second son of the Earl of Welcomb tracking her behind a pillar!" Pinky chimed in again. They all turned more serious at this, obviously displeased.
"Don't be too upset yet, ladies. While some of the handsome bachelors of this year's crop are flitting around the Counts’ crow, are they really the best of the lot?" The twittering giggles that erupted after the new nickname was coined were enough to make Liberty roll her eyes, though she did think the nickname was decent. "I've seen this bevy of gentlemen. They are all second and third sons looking to snatch up her dowry. Not a worthy title amongst them." The girl in lavender snorted and fanned herself.
Ah, we've found the brains of the group. “Mark my words, ladies, she’ll be swarmed by those mayflies for a while, then settle for one of them in exchange for her dowry. I would hope that you all had more ambition than that. I would think that you would be aiming for a Baron at the least, if not an Earl. I know I am.” The fan worked back and forth lazily. “None of those chasing after her would make it onto my list.” She snapped the fan closed decisively.
Wonder if she and Pinky will be trying to take over the world tonight? Liberty thought absentmindedly.
Though she had to admit they weren't completely wrong. These annoying boys kept buzzing around her. Her dream of being able to blend in and move unnoticed in this ballroom had evaporated like smoke.
She had assumed that she might draw some attention from the older crowd purely due to her Father’s wealth. Many would seek to exploit that, and a naive young lady was a perfect key to get entry into the circle of the walking moneybag that she was sure many of them pictured the Count to be. Since the original Serena hadn’t spent much time in the capital prior to her taking up residence in the body, Liberty had been fairly confident that just staying out of those types of scavengers’ eye line would allow her relative freedom to move around the ball. She had severely underestimated the draw that the only daughter of a wealthy count would have for the younger predators. Not just the young men, but the young women as well, though for different reasons.
Melisande had insisted that she expand her social knowledge by spending some time with Gladys, getting a crash course in the current state of fashion in the Kalimar Empire. Most young nobles in the Kalimar Empire were trained from childhood, able to tell at a glance what standing someone had purely by what they were wearing. Liberty had been severely lacking in this skill. Melisande shrugged the anomaly off as just the result of Serena growing up secluded in the country, but Liberty knew it was the result of her never getting that training, as well as her natural blindness to brands. Even in her own life, she hadn’t cared about what an outfit cost or who made it.
Was it cute? Did it look good? Then wear it. She had never gotten what the big fuss was about. Here, though, it was a skill that could give you insights into the motives and abilities of those you were facing. After she had realized that truth, she had put her heart into studying what the girls were willing to teach her.
Using what she had learned from the little seamstress, as well as a few tips she had picked up from Erica, she was able to place these little pigeons. The fabric and cuts of their gowns, as well as the minimal jewels that they wore, showed that these girls seemed to be from lower-tier aristocratic families. Small fish in this glittery pond, but little fish tend to gather in greater numbers. That means more eyes would watch her than she had thought. They would remember and most likely gossip about her after tonight, and apparently, they had been watching her pretty closely. She had realized she was going to have to reevaluate her plan and adapt pretty quickly. Spending a few more moments tucked behind the pair of hideously gaudy floral arrangements she had currently been using for cover, after mentally readjusting her strategy, she had then stepped out directly into the path of the group of girls who had just been gossiping about her. She had spent a moment enjoying their round eyes and slightly panicked looks. Then swept past them, making a point of smoothing out her dark skirts while barely acknowledging their presence before putting her new strategy into action. Adapting the attitude of ‘can't beat 'em, might as well join 'em’ and ‘might as well make hay while the sun is shining’, she had thrown herself into the festivities. She glided her way through the ballroom, going from group to group in between dances, cementing her Serena persona in their minds. Seeming to be just like every other young lady, eager to establish herself in polite society, she just had to be interesting enough to keep them willing to chat with her, but not interesting enough to make them suspicious of her. A sweet, quiet, well-behaved lady who was amusing, but in a non-threatening way. Not the complete shadow that the original Serena was, but also not the outgoing and sarcastic Liberty either. Liberty thought of it as the new and improved Serena.
Serena 2.0, if you will.
She felt that she was able to tailor her attitude and wit to whoever she was talking to pretty well. The Countess’s etiquette classes had given her the basic information on all the major and minor noble houses in the Empire. Realizing that she would have to interact with the marks for her missions in a social capacity eventually, Liberty had then taken some extracurricular tutoring with Baroness Melisande and the girls at The Company. After their tutoring, she not only recognized all the major players in the Capital on sight, but also had most of the pertinent facts about them and their families at her fingertips. All the usual information, and a good amount of the information they didn’t want anyone else knowing. Nothing facilitated small talk like having all the dirt on the person you’re chatting with.
When she was able to chat with the right people. Unfortunately, she would blow her cover pretty quickly if she were to approach them directly, one after the other. Instead, she was often forced to join groups of other ‘young people’, slowly making her way towards her marks, often positioning herself to eavesdrop on the other conversations around her while chatting inanely with them to maintain her cover. Though it was mentally exhausting. If she had to listen to one more mildly veiled shot about her ‘unique’ style from some chirpy little pastel chick, she wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to scream. Who knew that the relentless onslaught of fortune-hunting young men would be of use? Being able to escape to the dance floor, even if she had to endure their flirting, had saved her sanity a couple of times.
As the current dance ended, she pulled her thoughts back to the smiling young man who bowed and kissed her hand. When he attempted to lead her over for refreshments, she politely declined and looked for the next group she would infiltrate. Just as she found a promising group, gathered just behind the group where one of the old men who ran the capital’s illegal auction house was chatting to a few cronies, there was a fanfare of trumpets, and the soft music that had been wafting through the air between sets of dances cut off. Conversations ended, and people began to drift over and gather at the other end of the ballroom, near the stairs, many jostling for position to witness whatever was going to happen now.
She spotted the group of pastel pigeons that had been gossiping about her earlier, trying to elbow their way towards the front with vigor. The sight had her snorting, reminding her of fan girls from back home. The fanfare started up again just as the double doors at the top of the stairs opened. Two well-dressed men leading a small entourage swept through the doors. The darker-haired one lagged a few steps behind his companion, almost hidden by the broad shoulders of the blond man in the lead. In a red evening coat with gold accents that practically screamed 'look at me', he paused at the top of the stairs, posing for a moment. There was no way anyone living in the Kalimar empire could not recognize him.
His dark-haired companion remained obscured behind him, not capturing her attention at all, while the entourage faded into the background completely. This was the moment that she had been dreading. Liberty took a few deep breaths, steadying her mind, then took time to assess her walking personal nightmare. Erik Augustus Emmanuel Von Kalimar, Crown Prince of the Kalimar Empire. Chiseled good looks. Piercing blue eyes. Rich as hell. This would normally make him a dream man in just about any era. If only he could keep his mouth shut. Liberty knew that all this man had going for him was his looks and money.
Nothing but air in that pretty little head of his. The author wasn't messing around with his physique, though. She let her gaze travel down his muscular frame as the party descended the stairs.
"Built like a brick shiphouse," she muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes at the forced censorship before glancing around the ballroom and noting that the end she was at had emptied quite a bit.
The majority of the crowd's attention was focused on the peacock strutting his way through their midst as he paused to greet those he chose, working his way slowly further into the ballroom. Those who he had passed slowly began to filter back into the ballroom proper, spreading out and beginning to refill the mostly empty space. Now that the royal blockhead had made his appearance, Liberty knew that it would soon be time for the real show to begin. Her mission tonight was to make sure that everything went according to the new script she had planned out for the dear Viscount. She would not play games with Melisande’s safety.
A quick scan of the ballroom told her that now would be the time to move. The majority of attention was being slurped up by the narcissist in red on the other side of the room.
She nonchalantly strolled towards the wall of terrace doors that lined one side of the ballroom. During the hot summer nights, these doors could be opened to give guests access to the cooler gardens and terraces beyond, but they were barely at the beginning of spring, and the doors were all shut. Though thankfully, as Liberty had confirmed earlier, not locked.
As she reached for the handle of the nearest door, she felt a shiver creep along her spine. It was not completely unpleasant. She didn’t feel any fear, just the slight unease of someone watching her.
Quickly turning back, she scanned the crowds but found no one paying any attention to her. She paused and waited. The feeling did not return, though the crowds were growing thicker at her end of the ballroom. Fearing she might miss her chance altogether, Liberty took a deep breath and slid out the door, blending into the shadows beyond.
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