203 The Ballroom
It was already 6 in the evening. Since the nights were starting to get longer, the darkness arrived faster, prompting the maids and servants to light up the whole castle with candles, lanterns, and torches. The whole castle shined like a beacon of light.
“Your Majesty, it is time to head towards the ballroom. All the guests are waiting for your arrival,” Jerome bowed and said to the new King.
After returning from the Great Hall, Everard was busy greeting and attending to the alphas of all the clans, the councilmen, the ministers, and all the Kings and Crown Princes of the ally Kingdoms.
He had just gotten a chance to sit down and take a sip of the red wine. But Jerome arrived like an eclipse of his happiness.
“Is it time for the ball already?” he asked with a deep frown on his forehead.
Jerome gave a gentle nod and replied with politeness, “Yes, Your Majesty. It’s time.”
“Where’s Alexander?” Everard asked, worried that his friend was all alone this whole time.
Even though they had agreed to stick together for the whole day, they couldn’t do so. It would have been inappropriate for Alexander, the Crown Prince of Orsenia, to tag along in the private greeting sessions of Everard with the Kings and Crown Princes of other Kingdoms.
“He is already in the ballroom,” Jerome replied.
.....
Everard gulped down the wine as if it was water and then got back up on his feet. “Okay, let’s go,” he said while straightening his cream-colored coat that he had changed into just a while ago.
Four of the royal guards, who had now sworn to protect Everard, immediately followed him. During his stay in Lavinya, after great efforts, he had managed to make his guards agree to not follow him literally everywhere. He had already been used to roaming around freely.
Now that he was back to being tailed by stiff, bulky men in uniform, he felt a little uncomfortable. However, he made himself understand that it was for his own protection and didn’t try to dismiss them. There were a lot of werewolves around him, and he didn’t know whom to put his trust in yet.
Before reaching the ballroom, Jerome rushed off somewhere and came back within a few seconds. And he offered a beautiful porcelain mask to the King.
Everard took the mask from Jerome, but he was confused as to why Jerome handed that to him. “Is it a masquerade ball?” he asked while knitting his brows in tune.
“Er...” Jerome gave the same confused look to Everard and said, “You were the one who ordered to make it a masquerade ball.”
“Ugh! Right!” Everard closed his eyes and sighed in frustration.
‘I must have said that when I was drunk,’ he thought. He didn’t say that to Jerome though. He didn’t want Jerome to double-check his every order before executing it just because of this one slip.
Everard looked at the mask in his hand. The mask looked like the upper half of the face of some ancient angel. It was painted cream in color, except for the eyes. The area around the hollow of the eyes had intricate designs that were painted with golden color.
Everard handed it back to Jerome and asked, “Help me put it on.”
They stopped in the middle of the corridor and Jerome made sure to perfectly secure the mask in place. He also made sure to make the lace invisible by hiding it under Everard’s silky long hair.
“It’s done,” Jerome informed the King.
Everard looked at Jerome’s face and asked, “Where’s yours?”
Jerome put his hand inside his pocket and unfolded a small paper mask that only covered his eyes. “Here,” he showed it to the King and quickly put it on.
Everard envied Jerome’s mask because it looked way too lighter than his. He sighed and asked Jerome, “Couldn’t you have gotten something like that for me as well? Mine is really heavy.”
Jerome politely replied, “You are the King now. I can’t let you wear something that looks very cheap like mine.”
Everard scoffed and then resumed walking again. When he reached the doors of the ballroom, his ears were blessed with the soft music that echoed even outside of the hall.
He sighed in relief and thought, ‘This is much better than the non-stop chattering from all those people. I guess I can finally enjoy it a little... I hope I can.’
The guards at the door were ready to announce the presence of their King.
However, Everard suddenly stopped them and asked, “Just quietly open the door. I don’t want everyone to bow to me again. It’s exhausting, really.”
The guards ironically bowed and then pushed the door open for Everard and the others.
The music blasted outside the moment the door flung open. And along with the music, the happy chatter and laughter of his countless guests also poured out.
Barely a few people who were very close to the door recognized the King and bowed their heads. The others were too busy tapping their feet to the beat.
Everard grabbed a glass of wine from the tray of a maid who passed by, and he looked around the large ballroom.
The hall was filled with guests from different parts of the world. They were wearing fancy clothes and masks of different shapes and colors. Even with the masks on, he recognized a few people in the hall, those who he had closely interacted with during the day. The rest, he had no idea who they were.
He then slowly walked around the hall, sipping on his wine, and looking around for someone specific. ‘Ruby... I was hoping that she would at least come to congratulate me. But I guess I was being overly optimistic. I hurt her beyond repair, didn’t I?’
He climbed the stairs of the hall in a dejected manner. He was cursing himself for going overboard that day.
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He, however, still had a glimmer of hope that Ruby would be there in the hall somewhere. He had included Ruby’s name in the guest list for tonight’s ball, hoping that she would return.
After reaching the balcony of the hall, he looked out for any woman with red hair. He thought that he wouldn’t see a single woman with red hair in the sea of his guests. Unlike what he had expected though, he saw at least 6 red-headed women in the hall. And three of them had similar body structures to that of Ruby.
‘Ugh! And I had to make this a masquerade ball!’ he cursed his drunk self for making the dumbest decision of his life.