Gunmage
Chapter 164: Ballroom blitz

Chapter 164: Chapter 164: Ballroom blitz

"Interesting"

Xhi smiled. Lyra cleared her throat awkwardly.

Continue. She beckoned her sister Sofia

But the drama was far from over. Just as the Cardinal seemed poised to make some very public arrests, ten Royal Guards, clad in spectacular uniforms, marched into the hall, their arrival heralded by an almost tangible shift in the atmosphere.

Behind them, a figure few in the room had ever seen in person: Queen Seraphine the 49th of Ophris.

The elf with long auburn hair and a giant needle frowned. She didn’t even think she had ever seen the current queen of the kingdom.

As for the title, upon becoming Queen of Ophris, one is bestowed the name Seraphine. They are also mandated to wear veils that obscure their features at all times. No one questioned why, it was tradition.

Sofia continued reading.

Dressed entirely in black, a stark contrast to the opulent attire surrounding her, the Queen’s appearance sent a shockwave through the assembled nobles and ne’er-do-wells alike.

The symbolism was heavy, the implications debated in hushed tones. Mourning? A warning? A fashion statement with serious consequences?

Lady Selaphiel, however, remained unperturbed. With a regal flick of her wrist (and a cascade of diamonds), she diffused the tense standoff. In a moment that will surely be etched in the annals of Ophrian history, the Queen compelled the visibly displeased High Cardinal into an opening dance.

"Because right now you are a high cardinal, and I am the Queen,"

She declared, her voice cutting through the stunned silence like a shard of ice.

The opening dance, a bizarre spectacle of forced civility and barely concealed animosity, concluded without bloodshed. But if anyone thought the tension had dissipated, they were sorely mistaken.

Then came the true seismic event of the evening. The doors creaked open once more, and a figure leaning heavily on a walking stick entered the ballroom.

It was the Third Prince! Also known as Major General Lovainne – the man whose name had been on everyone’s lips for months following the devastating siege of Drakensmar.

Hero? Villain? A cautionary tale in military strategy? Opinions remained sharply divided. His reappearance, after weeks of ambiguous silence and rampant speculation about his health, sent a jolt of disbelief through the room.

Lyra was stunned.

The Prince is alive??

Her sister ignored her, getting to the juicier part

But Prince Lovainne’s arrival was merely a prelude. His first words, spoken with a surprising strength, hung in the air: "Is Lugh Von Heim here?"

At this point the people listening in the Von Heim Library suddenly turned sour.

Lugh!!!

In her study, Isolde crinkled the edges of the news paper. Come to think of it, that blasted Prince was the cause of all this.

She briefly considered assassinating him, but no. That could wait. There were other important things right now.

She focused on the pages

A collective murmur rippled through the assembled guests. Lugh Von Heim? The name was unfamiliar to almost everyone.

Isolde Von Heim’s initial denial only fueled the growing curiosity. Pressed further, she finally admitted the truth: Lugh was real. A bastard son, brought to the ball at her behest.

And then he appeared.

Words truly fail to capture the impact of Lugh Von Heim’s entrance. It was as if a hush fell over the very air. He radiated an aura of raw power, an almost palpable majesty that inspired both awe and a primal sense of fear.

Inhumanly beautiful, with eyes that defied description – white sclera meeting a red pupil in one, black sclera framing a red pupil in the other – he was an enigma wrapped in an unsettlingly attractive package.

Whispers of Drakensmar survivors and strange mutations followed in his wake.

Adding to the bizarre spectacle, Lugh was clad in the priestly robes of the Church.

Eyebrows shot skyward across the ballroom. Was this a deliberate power play? A clandestine alliance between the Von Heims and the Church?

Isolde’s flimsy excuse about a lack of suitable attire did little to quell the rising suspicions, especially after the earlier confrontation with the Cardinal.

Then came the unexpected honors. Despite his youth, Lugh Von Heim was called forward and presented with three medals, including the unique Medal of the Drowned Legion and the highly coveted Flame Heart Medal.

The whispers intensified. How could someone so young have achieved such accolades?

Rumors of surviving the treacherous Devil Sea and heroic actions during the siege of Drakensmar painted a picture of a prodigy unlike any seen before.

However, Lugh’s demeanor did little to endear him to the assembled elite. His blatant disregard for social niceties was breathtaking.

Receiving his awards with barely a nod, he turned to leave, only to be stopped by the Queen herself. Forced to choose a dance partner, he pointed, without a hint of courtesy, at one of the Royal Guards.

The chosen guard, a statuesque woman whose face was hidden, moved with an unnerving grace to his side. As they began to dance, the unthinkable happened.

Chaos erupted.

Everyone read, or listened silently. Pulled in by the narrative of the newswriter.

A swift, brutal attack was instantly neutralized by Lady Selaphiel. But the second assailant erupted in blinding white flames, leading to panicked speculation about the Cardinal’s involvement.

The attacker, it turned out, was a beastkin, shattering any semblance of decorum.

As guards scrambled and nobles shrieked, Lugh was surrounded by our intrepid journalists. But before a single question could be asked, he recoiled, yelling the name "Vaelith!"

The Royal Guard he had been dancing with instantly erected walls of shimmering ice around him, a stunning display of arcane power. It became terrifyingly clear: messing with the Royal Guard was a spectacularly bad idea.

Another beastkin lunged from the crowd, but the ice and Lady Selaphiel’s swift intervention ended the threat quickly. The captured beastkin, now legless and presumably full of regret, was taken into Von Heim custody.

The name "Vaelith" hung in the air. Had Lugh somehow charmed the stoic guard into revealing her name? Or was it a carefully constructed lie?

With the ballroom clearly compromised, Lugh prepared to depart. But our brave (and possibly slightly insane) correspondent pressed forward, asking the question on everyone’s mind: would Lugh compete for leadership of the Von Heim family?

His response was delivered with an arrogance that could shake the heavens.

"There will be no fighting. The title of leader is my birthright. Anyone who eyes this position is not a candidate but a thief. What follows wouldn’t be a struggle, but an execution!"

"Hahahaha!"

Lyra erupted into laughter