Mark Story
101 Vhalar 713
18 arcs, a special sort of milestone. It meant that she was a woman in name as well as appearance, something which opened up a whole new world of opportunity for the Burhan noble. She was understandably excited, knowing that so much of Rynmere’s nobility would be coming to her family home for her sake. This was her chance to truly make an impact on them and show that she’d be a worthy match for any of the Houses. After all, given how far down in the pecking order she was within House Burhan, the chances of her ever becoming a Duchess were exceptionally slim but that didn’t mean that she couldn’t marry a man who was in line to become a Duke.
Valeria knew that she was beautiful, certainly beautiful enough to rival any Venora but she was still anxious that she’d be unable to attract a good marriage prospect. Andaris was probably out of the question, after all, why would they want a Burhan girl like her, nowhere near as politically refined as many others. To marry into House Venora would certainly appeal to her vanity and they were a family that appreciated beauty in life. Endor had an air of mystery that the young woman found intriguing, but V had no idea if her looks and manner would appeal to one. Of course, to marry into either noble House would probably improve relations between their families. Perhaps the safest bet was House Gawyne and she’d seen more of Baron Gawyne’s children than any other Baron’s.
The blonde knew that it was a matter that her parents were considering quite seriously but they were willing to settle for some Lord of lower status than V herself was willing to take. Surely, if she could attract a highly desirable husband, they’d allow her to follow her heart – or rather her ambition – and allow her to become the future Duchess of some other House. What more could they possibly desire for their daughter?
However, first impressions were everything, something that V knew all too well and, so she took the greatest pains with her appearance. She curled her hair, enhancing the natural wave of the blonde locks. It was a time-consuming process as Valeria had to braid some sections of her hair and roll the remainder of it in wet rags. By mixing her curling methods, her hair wasn’t too uniform, creating a special layering. She was patient while putting on her make-up, even removing it to reapply it again when it didn’t look good enough in her eyes.
By the time she moved to put on her dress that evening, Valeria had a hard time pulling her eyes away from her own reflection. She’d carefully moisturised her skin with creams, reddened her lips and added a gloss of oil to make them shine, added a soft smoky effect to her eyes and added the slightest bit of rogue to her cheeks. Her eyes had taken on a shade that was almost close to amber, a sign of delight that would be obvious to anyone who knew her. Coupled with a well-laced corset and an off-the-shoulder black dress, her looks appeared to be like those of a woman of more mature arcs. It was the first time that she genuinely felt as if she might succeed in enchanting the noblemen who she’d soon be moving amongst.
It was about time for her to head downstairs to greet her guests and make an impact but before she did, she closed her eyes to offer a silent prayer to the Immortal to whom she felt she owed so much.
Zanik, I have no idea if you listen to these prayers. I like to think that you do and hope that I’ve become such a beautiful woman because of your intervention. Many arcs ago, I vowed that if I became beautiful, I’d do everything in my power to master the art of seduction and wield it as frequently as I could. I know I haven’t had as much practice as I would have liked but I thank you for everything that you’ve enabled me to do, she prayed silently, lips pressed firmly together. I know that I haven’t fully repaid you for all the favour and attention that I’ve tried to claim from you but please, help me to charm the most eligible man in the house tonight. Please lend your seductive charms to my manner and help me make beautiful music with my voice. If I could catch his eye, maybe even convince him to ask me to dance then I would be eternally grateful to you, my Lord.
The young woman took a white silk handkerchief, unfurling it in her palm and planted a careful, lingering kiss on its surface. She folded it over, clutching it briefly as she willed the god of Seduction, Strength and Music to sense the kiss that she was trying to send him. Perhaps it was an odd practice, but it was one that had seemed right to the girl in her mid-teens. No one else knew about it so no matter how self-conscious it might make her feel, she felt that it was important for Zanik’s sake.
Tucking the handkerchief into her bosom as a kind of good luck charm, the blonde made her way downstairs. She allowed one hand to trail along the bannister, her steps slow and carefully measured as she scanned her surrounds. She did it in an attempt to draw every eye in the room and she certainly turned quite a few heads, something that pleased her greatly. As she moved from the end of the stairs, Valeria injected a careful sway into her walk as she headed for the ballroom, feeling as if she could sense gazes upon her, even if the other nobles were too polite to stare outright.
Once in the ballroom, she exchanged pleasantries with those she encountered, smiling graciously and thanking those who wished her a happy birthtrial. A passing server offered her a drink and she took it, the picture of good humour as she mingled with her peers, flirting delicately with men from the major Houses and some of the minor ones, complimenting the appearance of the noblewomen that she encountered. Even as she spoke with them, she kept one eye out for Ivy Gawyne, a girl who had become her friend over the past few arcs, someone who she was close to and on to-trial of all trials, she wanted to share this moment with her.
It was while she was searching for Ivy that she saw him for the first time.
Most noble faces were well-known to her but this one was unusual, definitely not someone she’d seen before. With that raven black hair and a certain scruffiness to his appearance, there was no way he could be forgotten. Strangely, there was something familiar about him.
Time passed, half a break, a break, and she found herself discussing the latest trends that were sweeping through Rynmere, giving the noblewoman the chance to show that she wasn’t out of the loop just because she wasn’t in Andaris. Fashion wasn’t really her domain, but music was, the blonde showing off a little as she sang one of the newly popular ballads. As she sang, her eyes found the dark haired man again, irises colouring a deep brown as this time, she caught his eye as he gazed intently her way. He wasn’t in the immediate circle of people who surrounded her but was a short distance apart from them. The rest of her audience was strangely forgotten, the young woman feeling as if she was singing to this strange man alone, the ghost of a smile on his lips spurring her on. Greater confidence swept through her and she reached heights that she hadn’t before, less of a wobble in certain places where she was required to hold and then switch a note.
When her performance finally ended, the applause around her was enthusiastic. For the first time, Valeria became aware that she’d drawn the attention of quite a few as she sang. For the first time, she felt that she held true power, as she held all these people in obvious rapture.
The Burhan daintily gripped the skirt of her dress and dropped a shallow curtsy as praise gushed forth, her eyes bouncing between warm brown for happiness and near amber as she drank it up, a blush of pleasure adding greater definition to her cheeks than rogue ever could have. Complaining of a bout of over-warmth, the blonde politely excused herself and moved through the gathering as she headed for a door to the outside.
The breath of cool air came as a relief even if it was enough to draw a shiver from her after a few moments. V hugged herself, hands clasped around the tops of her arms as she gazed at the trees nearby, her mind conjuring up the fertile colours that the darkness hid.
”Your voice has a lovely tone to it, Lady Valeria.”
The sound startled her, eyes darkening rapidly to a stormy grey in her fright as she turned to see who’d spoken. Once again, her gaze landed on the mysterious man who she’d seemed destined to interact with so far tonight. His attitude was one of nonchalance, leaning against the wall between the windows. Although he was half in shadow, she could see that he’d unbuttoned his waistcoat somewhat and that stubble seemed to be appearing on his chin. Once again, his oddly scruffy appearance made him stand out and that sense of familiarity returned. Despite the fact that he didn’t seem to be from one of the main noble Houses or took particular care with his appearance, the blonde found herself attracted to him.
”I thank you, sir. I hope that it gave you some pleasure,” she responded politely, a natural smile gracing her lips, no hint of artifice. ”I’m not surprised that you know me – after all, tonight is in my honour – but I’m ashamed to say that I have no such familiarity with you. Well, truthfully, there’s something familiar about your face. However, I’m embarrassed, and sorry, to say that I cannot place you.”
Instead of replying, he smiled enigmatically and shook his head. Slowly, he moved away from the wall, taking care to fix the slovenly aspects of his appearance. He extended a hand to her.
”I’ll be happy to tell you my name… if you’ll allow me to dance with you first. I’m sure I can listen to your melodious voice some more as well,” he suggested with a charming smile and an expectant air.
The invitation stunned her but also sent a thrill through her. Zanik had seen fit to grant her prayer! Well, perhaps this unknown man wasn’t the most eligible man in the room, perhaps he was from one of the minor families but in this moment, she didn’t care. She’d managed to enchant this man from afar, this stunningly handsome man who was so out of the ordinary compared to the men she was used to encountering. Perhaps, this was what love felt like. After all, some said that it could strike abruptly and without warning or due cause, and hadn’t she been thrilled at the mere sight of him that first time?
She inclined her head, not having to fake a blush or shyness as she took his offered hand, another thrill going through her at the contact with his warm fingers. ”You honour me, sir, but I’m glad to accept your proposal.”
Returning to the ballroom seemed to happen in a whirr of motion and time, the interim between moving from outside to inside lost to the young woman as she found herself on the familiar boards. The musicians were playing a soft, relaxed piece, which allowed her to settle comfortably in his embrace, careful to keep an acceptable distance between them despite the strong desire to lay her head against his breath and sigh.
They danced and as they moved, he asked her questions, guiding her conversationally with the same ease that he guided her through the various steps of the dance. For some reason, she told him of herself with a glad heart, pleased that someone showed such interest in her for herself and not simply for her beauty or her heritage or even her talents. It was so easy until he suddenly spoke something with calm, self-assurance that set her stumbling and briefly missing her steps.
”You worship an Immortal.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement and a damning one considering where they were. To admit in public to the worship of something outside of Rynlism was social suicide. However, it was impossible that he could know such a thing about her unless he had some way to spy on her.
”I’m a Rynlist. I worship my ancestor and the men and women who created Rynmere,” she explained, cautiously avoiding a refutation; she doubted that she could lie successfully.
”There’s truth in that, I suppose. Perhaps I should clarify. You are a Rynlist who also worships Zanik. You have done for a few arcs.”
The dance was forgotten, the blonde’s feet unwilling to move through the necessary steps but she wasn’t alone; he’d stopped too.
”How can you possibly know that? Have you been spying on me? Have you a servant who watches me and…” she trailed off, unsure that she’d ever allowed anyone to see her worship Zanik. Even if they were familiar with her ritual, the reason behind it would be unknown. The only person who knew of her odd faith was Ivy Gawyne. She wouldn’t have thought the other girl capable of betraying her in such a way; it wasn’t in her nature.
”I think you know, deep down. The same way that you’ve always known that I listened and that I’d somehow get your kisses.”
The noblewoman gasped, breast heaving as the revelation struck her. This was why he’d been oddly familiar! Hadn’t she fallen in love with the idea of him at 14 arcs of age? Hadn’t she considered him a figure of romance when she’d heard tales with his description?
He reached up a hand and laid it on her cheek, her eyes shifting to a wild kaleidoscope of colours although she didn’t shy away. ”Remember that everything you do is in my name. You’ve devoted yourself to me. When you enchant others with your voice or your looks or your manner, it is in my honour. Remember that, Valeria Burhan. Remember me.”
He pressed a kiss to her cheek. The movement was so swift it seemed unlikely that anyone could have seen it. Valeria was hardly sure that it had really happened. His hand left her face and he moved around her, out of her sight as she stared stupidly ahead of her, numbed by shock. It felt like mere trills since he’d moved away and yet when she turned around, the musicians were well into a new piece rather than finishing the old, a clear indication of the time that had passed. Of course, when she whirled and sought him again, he was nowhere to be seen.
