~ Prologue ~

It was the autumn of 1895, a time of golden and amber leaves, of green vineyards and fruitful orchards. The well-tended gardens of Magnolia Manor were peaceful and soothing, filled with African lilies, windflowers in pale and vibrant colors and the exotic waxy looking “painter’s palette”. Just above the scorpion orchid’s upright stems a colibri was fluttering its wings.

A tall red haired woman wearing a pale white dress with plain and tight sleeves was watching the creature’s green plumage.

“What a strange little bird!” she said in a melodious voice, her green eyes widened in awe. And it was strange indeed, for the little bird known as the Green Violetear could only be found in South America, sometimes wandered up north but never as far as to reach British shores.

The woman -Genevieve Mayfair by name, Lady of the Manor by title – was waiting patiently in front of the estate for her personal carriage. The usual coachman, having a bit too much to drink the day before was laid off on the lord’s dispositions and a replacement wasn’t easy to find especially on this day. The Earl of Cranbrook was celebrating his daughter’s marriage with the Marquess of Zetland’s son and anyone worthy of his attention received an invitation.
Because Lord Byron, her husband, had a sudden attack of laziness, none of the Mayfairs would attend to the party that night. Sick of her husband’s inclination for sloth and indifference towards social etiquette, she decided to pay her old friend a visit and have an enjoyable night by herself.

It was late in the afternoon when she arrived on Wisteria Lane and the old house with seven gables came into sight gloomy and mysterious. Emma Chambers, widowed at the age of 29, welcomed her in person not bothering to send any of her servants to receive Genevieve.

“How you are making my heart tremble with excitement!” she said as she embraced her friend kissing both her cheeks and leaving a trail of rosy pink rouge behind.

“It has been long indeed” Genevieve answered brightly and held her friend’s soft hands for a moment.

“Come inside, you mustn’t catch a cold on your visit, we have so little chances of seeing each other after all. How did you manage to get away from the wolf? Won’t he be furious when he finds out about your absence?” Emma straightened the pleats on her dress and lead Genevieve inside holding her by the hand.

“Lord Byron has been so busy lately I’m surprised he even takes time to breath” Genevieve replied ironically and the young women burst into laughter. They both knew exactly how busy the master was since his marriage three years ago. Emma had her doubts about his past as well, but she did not ask anything of the sort. Her friend’s private life and choices weren’t her playground although she knew more about their past lives as a couple than anyone else.

“But it’s alright..” Genevieve continued as they passed the darkened hallway and went upstairs. “I was so sick of staying home that it doesn’t matter how upset he’ll be when I return and I missed you so much that any minute spent here is worth being reprimanded for.”

Emma giggled and showed her inside the Italian –style guest room. It had a colorful wall-to-wall carpet and large windows, the walls being ornamented in deep red and olive green. The light was dim making Genevieve feel at home. Emma invited her on the wide and high backed couch near the fireplace and took herself a chair by the window near the little round table. The moon was shining on her dress making its vibrant colors almost sparkle. She wasn’t called “Madam Fuchsia” for nothing; being a widow she afforded a little eccentricity both in behavior and choice of clothing.

Tea was brought in delicate china cups depicting everyday life events and Genevieve complimented its flavor after taking a sip. Along with the hot drink snacks were also served. In that time there were two kinds of tea services, namely, high tea and low tea. The upper echelons of the British society took Low tea. This meant that the tea was accompanied by small snacks and not proper food. Low tea meant more conversation and less food. In contrast to this, the high tea was partaken by the lower classes of the British society, which was accompanied by a proper lunch.

“My dear Gennie, I hope you remember our last meeting when I explained your strange dream.”

“Remember? How could I forget? Me and Byron slaves in Ancient Egypt! I couldn’t imagine myself being so…unwashed.” , Genevieve replied gleefully.

“Well, it seems there is more than that. Some of your other dreams brought a little more light on your past and that comb of yours was most useful. That night I could only see one façade of your common history but it seems there were others.”

“Other lives? I could have imagined as much…”

“Other people involved.” Emma stood up and went near the fireplace taking a book from the wood shelf on the right. She drew near Genevieve and opened the book in front of her eyes. It was a dark leathered tome with yellow pages that almost crumbled in her fingers.

Arthur’s Penrose Secret History and Love Affairs

The engraving was still intact. The two laughed again as they skimmed through the book filled with the author’s biography, legends gathered from natives on his trips and even indecent pictures from the “Arabian Nights” translation. Emma turned the pages over to the chapter entitled “Folk tales from the desert”.

“Supposedly”, she continued “there was a group of angels called the Grigori that came on Earth and asked the locals’ daughter’s hands in marriage. Then they had children and forgot about their home in Heaven so they were left by God to lead a human life until death.”

“Oh, how romantic” Genevieve whispered, curious to hear the end of the story.

“Yes, but they also forgot their wedding vows and got other wives, sometimes keeping both of them like Muslims do. Apparently they refused monogamy and this made God angry.”

Genevieve started laughing:

“My father would certainly approve and give one of his “that’s why God loves only the Christians” speeches.”

“Listen carefully Genevieve, because this is no laughing matter.” For the first time that night Emma became fervent and serious. “You and your husband were two of those souls destined to stay together until death. It says here that five of the angels were given another chance only because God took mercy on the first wives when he saw their unchanged love. So it came that all of them received a limited number of human lives to repent for their mistakes and gain forgiveness. Some of the angels succeeded in doing so, but their soul mates broke the vows as revenge and so the cycle never ended.”

Genevieve looked at her friend astonished.

“And you want me to believe all of this? Emma, be serious, living in Egypt is one thing and I only played along because I dreamt of the dessert and the pyramids...a vivid and wild dream it’s true, but a dream nonetheless. How can I possibly believe that Byron..my Byron.. was ever an angel?” She let out a giggle “Do you honestly think he has any kind of virtues besides his love for elegance and hygiene?”

“Yes, he does. And he used to have plenty. Gennie, I know how much you love him despite your ironies. And I know how indifferent he’s been to you for some time, you told me yourself. This might be your last chance to keep him faithful. If not for your soul, at least do this for your marriage. I thought deeply on each and every dream you ever related in the past year and everything makes sense. Let’s not also forget the fact that you had most of them while awake. I asked the cards and put the puzzle together. All you have to do is gather the remaining four and their soul mates and... ”

“Emma, this is absurd!” Genevieve stood up taking the pleats of her dress in her hands, ready to leave. “You cannot expect me to gather an array of strangers on the pretense of..on any pretense whatsoever! You have taken this joke a little too far.”

Emma took her hand and looked gravely into her eyes. Her voice was serious, but warm when she spoke.
“Genevieve, you know how deeply I care for you since we were children. You know I never joke on such matters and not when it involves you. I always considered you as my sister and I would never bother you with such things if I wasn’t convinced they were true.”

The red haired women took a deep breath and sat down quietly back on the couch.

“I’m listening..”

Emma smiled.

“It’s not as hard as it sounds. You have to bring the others together as well since it seems you're the only one who remembers and I believe fate brought the two of us to be friends for this purpose as well. ” She opened the lid of a wooden box on the table and took a handful of tiny stone tablets marked with letters, spreading them on the silk cloth.
“Runes!” Genevieve gasped.

“ The Providence smiled upon us, Gennie! All of them are related to your closest friends of the family. Indeed, they could be anyone: cousins, daughters, distant relatives, but we do know that they are unmarried and we know their initials.”

She handed Genevieve a piece of paper with the initials written on it.

Genevieve read them out loud.

“Doesn’t ring a bell..none of them!” Genevieve said disappointed.

“Not yet..but I suggest convincing your husband to pull a few strings and find out who they are. Inquire all of your acquaintances on their relatives eligible for marriage and have them together as soon as possible.”

“I’ll try..” she replied still unconvinced of the whole story.
“Until then, let’s enjoy our meeting for it might be the last one for some time.”

Emma smiled and sat down besides her friend.

“I’m sure the wolf won’t forgive you easily for this day.”

The two spent the night catching up on the latest gossip and the old house on Wisteria Lane was full of their childish laughter once again.

Vasile wasn’t one to enjoy parties. In fact, this was the first one he attended to in his life and the glamour of it all almost blinded him: pretty lights everywhere, sparkling clothes to match the bright white smiles, various exotic dishes on the table that spoke to him of indigestion and nothing more. His simple black clothes didn’t match the scenery and even his very presence looked out of place in this high class event. If it wasn’t for the dreams about Magnolia Manor that kept him awake at night and for the not-so-coincidental walk on Wilk Street, Vasile wouldn’t even be here, much less attend the ball that was meant for others and not for this humble servant of God.

The Mayfairs who owned the large establishment and started this ball were young and beautiful to look at, but Vasile saw in the couple the very embodiment of the word “antithesis” and this made him to keep an eye on both of them. They matched his own idea of rich, vain people in some aspects, but in other ways it looked like there was more to them than a life without care and a passion for constant entertainment to avoid boredom.

As for the other guests, he couldn’t forget his visions when he first saw them entering the ballroom. Terrifying images stuck on his retinas: the creature wrapped around Lord Byron’s hands and legs who was spitting smoke and whispering vile words in his ear, the young lady Clarice surrounded by snakes and the kind of demon with which Vasile dealt before: the succubus and then there was the creature around Miss Alayna who feared the light and who fed on her belly, ripping energy from within.
Everything happened fast and Vasile knew there was a reason for why he had to see all of it, a reason for which God sent him here among all this strangers.

Emma Chambers entered the ballroom and her eyes searched around the room until she met his. “Father, your presence is already a blessing” she said as she approached him almost running. “There is someone in the house who needs your healing skills.”

Vasile looked at the woman dressed in pink and couldn’t help himself from staring for the second time that evening although he met her just a few hours before. There was something in her gestures and way of dressing that caught the attention of others, maybe not in a good way. He also had to tell her again not to call him “father”, he wasn’t a priest yet and for a moment he even regretted telling the Mayfairs about his knwoledge of medicinal plants and healing abilities, afraid that it would be considered “showing off”, a sign of pride. Nevertheless, blessing the house and tending to the sick was his duty and the main reason for which all these fancy dressed people asked him to join them in their Summer Solstice celebration, a pagan holiday he would never approve of otherwise.

The colors and the noise of the ballroom was something Lady Alayna Renoldi never really felt comfortable in. Still the letter she received pricked her curiousity, which was very rare. Why did she agreed to come to this event? She asked herself that question over and over. She once again recalled the day she received the invitation.

In the early morning hours, a woman was riding her favorite horse, a gray Arabian mare. Lady Alayna Renoldi normally was not up this early, but circumstances had her yearning for some air. Last night she had another one of her ‘dreams’ again. Normally she did not dream. At first she just shrugged off the dreams as something normal, but now she was having them every night now for the past two weeks and they were starting to affect her, including her sleeping patterns. Even now Alayna could remember vividly last night’s dream.

She had just finished sowing something out of silk that felt smooth and cool in between her fingers. There was a lot of pride in creating such beauty. The silk to she made would eventually be used for garments that only nobility and royalty could wear. Alas, she wore simpler garments. She rolled up the silk and placed it with the other silken rolls. She went outside to where her father was.

“My father I have finished the silk cloth and am going to wash up before diner.” She replied, speaking in a foreign tongue but completely understanding it.
“Very well my daughter. You have done well.” The elderly man replied.

She went down to the nearby stream and splashed some water onto her face. When she was finished, she looked at her reflection. She had the palest skin with hair as black as night and her eyes were the color of amber. She came from a family of silk weavers and hoped that all that she did was appreciated. Suddenly, the young maiden heard a horse snorting and looked up to see a magnificent stallion and as her eyes travel upward, she saw the person sitting on the beautiful creature. Her eyes were wide open as she gazed right into his eyes. The person sitting on the horse was a warrior, and a handsome one at that. And for a moment, time stood still as the dream faded away.

Alayna was brought back to the present as her horse, Beatrice, tossed her head. Normally Alayna did not show any emotions, but she always showed warmth and kindness to her horses.
“Are you ready to go back girl? Let’s go than.” Her ladyship said as she turned around and head back to her estate.
The estate was big and grand. It looked like the kind of place fairy tales lived in, but the appearance was a façade, and a sad one at that for Alayna’s life was no fairy tale, and if anything it quite the opposite. For now though she would not focus on what had been. Entering the house, Alayna was about to head upstairs when her butler came forward.

“My lady, a messenger has arrived with a letter for you. I have placed him in the library.” The servant said.
“Thank you Gerald.” Alayna replied, a bit irritated by the unexpected call.
She went into the library and saw a man waiting new the entrance. She noticed that while his clothing was finely made, he was no nobile because of how he appeared.

“Good morning sir. What can I do for you this morning?” she asked.
The man bowed and replied, “Good Morning, my lady. I am Jared Forehand styled butler of Magnolia Manor. I have been instructed to give you this letter. After you read it, can you please give me an immediate response?”

Alayna took the letter and opened it. It sounded interesting but she had never been to an event like this before. She did wonder what kind of people would be there and how long it would last. Still, she needed a distraction right now and could probably do that for her. She looked at the names of the people who sent the letter to her. Being nobility herself, she knew about the Mayfairs. She hadn’t been away from home much now since her husband’s death because she now took care of his duties. It was tiring work. So after a few minutes of thinking Alayna gave Jared her answer.

“Yes, I shall accept the invitation. Thank you.” She replied.

The butler bowed and left. Alayna went to her chambers to get ready to leave.

She needed a distraction? What was she thinking? That had been yesterday. Something was up, that was for sure. Alayna wondered though what was in store for her here.

‘Boring as always…’ Anna thought to herself while looking at the cluster of people in the room.

She took her usual place at these kinds of events: up against one of the walls, close to a table on which glasses of drinks were carefully placed, holding a glass of champagne and judging every person present from her intellectual high point she had erected for herself.

‘Pathetic…the lot of them, and I’m just as pathetic…I keep playing along with their whims, attending pointless balls and banquets, listening to the same useless pieces of conversation about politics and wealth and their disgusting gossip.’

She took a mouthful of champagne and reluctantly swallowed it.

‘And not a single intellectual attends these ungodly vain gatherings, but when they do, they’re too caught up prancing about and praising themselves for their mediocre achievements to recognize a fellow thinker or their merits. No, the damned coxcombs would never accept the thought of a woman being a better chemist than them, no, they’d rather cover me with false praises and then throw me in the shadow of some jackanapes of average intellect!’

Downing the rest of the glass, she took another one in her hand, making a short toast to the wall while thinking: ‘Thank you Cathy, thanks for making me attend another one against my will and my better judgment, this is for you…’ She took the glass from her mouth and turned to face the people present there again. ‘Though, I must say, some seem to be just as misplaced as I am.’

She looked around the room eyeing, one after the other, a few remarkable people whose names she had cared enough to remember: Lady Alayna Renoldi, Father Vasile, Captain MacCraigh, the small Miss Adelia and some others she had yet to hear their names. Of course neither the Mayfairs nor their friend, Emma Chambers, were plain people.

Just as soon as she finished that last thought, Emma burst in, rather worried, and addressed the priest. Overhearing her request, Anna thought to offer her help, trying to comprehend how could faith in a higher, unseen, authority help where science prevailed more. She took another sip, set the glass down and gently put her right, bandaged, hand on the woman’s outstretched arm.

“Perhaps I can also help, Miss Chambers, I am a pharmaceutical researcher and have been a nurse in the past. There is a possibility that I might have something that could resolve your emergency.”

Emma looked over the woman who approached them, thinking she looked like a school teacher rather than a pharmacist and smiled.

“Thank you, miss Penclave, your assistance is most desirable. If you would follow me” she said to the two guests and went back through the same door she came from. They passed by the servants’ quarters and entered the last room at the end of the hallway. In the white bed there was a man lying down with his eyes closed, breathing heavily. His long eyelashes trembled softly before he opened his eyes and looked around the room, confused for a while. His bruised face brightened upon seeing Emma, then he bowed his head in front of the two guests.

“Father Vasile, miss Penclave, this is Jared Forehand, Magnolia’s main butler. Lady Mayfair sent for the doctor since yesterday, but we received no answer so far, I’m afraid he’s been summoned out of the city for a while and there is no one else so trustworthy as our physician.” Emma said urgently.

Indeed this was a case for a “trustworthy” doctor, someone who could keep a secret. Jared’s wounds were caused by nothing else than Lord Byron’s unjust jealousy that broke out the other day and led to the severe state Jared was in right now. As for Jared himself, the man was honorable enough not to complain, thinking it was all for Genevieve who was more than a mistress and a friend, she was like a sister to him.

Jared coughed like an old man before standing on his elbows, revealing his chest all wrapped in bandages.
“There was no need to upset the guests tonight, Miss Chambers. They were called to celebrate, not to look at a humble servant.” His voice was stern, but devoid of coldness or anger. “I already blame my weakness and myself for troubling your ladyship.”

Emma’s eyes narrowed, she liked things to be done her way and not by social standards or etiquette.

“Lady Mayfair, my friend, is most troubled by the fact that her long planned Celebration lacks the service of the main butler. The faster you’ll be able to perform your duties, the better is for everyone. Father Vasile here offered his help and it would be an insult not to take his honorable gift. Miss Penclave also gave us the honor of her assistance, it would be rude not to accept it.” Emma replied without showing her true feelings concerning Jared and the butler had no other choice but to comply.

“I humbly accept, honored guests of Magnolia Manor” he said softly and leaned on his back.

*

Genevieve Mayfair left her husband’s side and the glass of champagne he just offered without glancing behind. They somehow managed to survive all the tiring introductions they made between the new guests and the usual guests of the manor, her interest being solely for the former. Most of them had arrived on time and had already been introduced to her and her husband, lord Byron. She especially liked the women: Miss Alayna with her subtle beauty and melancholic nature, the innocent and young Adelia who was in obvious need of a protector, the cynical and moral Annabelle and maybe lady Clarice, just a little bit. While attractive and independent – two traits which made her a rare specie in the higher echelons -, Clarice Phaedra was also looked upon with desire by most men attending the party, including her husband. Genevieve never blamed her for being beautiful, but she blamed her for not sending Byron off properly, like any decent woman would do.

She took a moment to analyze the male guests as well. Duncan MacCraigh lacked the refinement of a gentleman, but compensated with a sharp mind, maybe sharper than his tongue and with a brutal honesty. Father Vasile, although young and seemingly inexperienced in matter of social gatherings, was everything what a man of God should be: kind, reliable, humble and unselfish, the very opposite of Byron.

More guests were about to arrive and Genevieve honestly hoped they were everything this Celebration needed to accomplish its goal. She was rather nervous and doubtful when thinking about what she would say to them regarding the reason for calling them at the party. She went over to the silver haired Alayna taking two glasses of madeira on the way.

“I am truly grateful for accepting my invitation, miss Renoldi, not everyone would attend a stranger’s party in this time and age without knowing the reasons behind it. I must confess I haven’t been truly honest with you, but rest assure that everything will be revealed in due time. Is the celebration to your liking so far?” she asked and offered her a glass.

Throughout the event, Alayna kept a close eye on Adelia. The girl was in need of a protector, and Alayna was more than willing to fill the role. Adelia reminded Alayna of herself before her marriage, even before her father died. Thinking about her father still threaten her cool composure. Lady Renoldi loved her father. He had been such a wonderful father. She knew a few of her siblings were jealous of their relationship. Alayna had been the only one of her father’s children to inherit his look, the rest looked like her late Italian mother. She heard that her mother was known for her kindness and flamboyant attitude. She had lived long enough to hold Alayna before passing away with the baby in her arms. Alayna wondered if her mother had lived, would she have lived a more happy laugh. Oh her father did his best to make her life pleasant and she even liked a few of her siblings, but things changed drastically after her father’s death and she lost her innocence when she learned how cruel reality was. Her marriage to Edgar shattered her hopes even more, turning her into what she was today, a woman with a cold stare and very little respect for most people. The only people she showed kindness to were her servants and children.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Lady Mayfair greeted her. Her opinion of her host was a good one. She never acted stuck up like more nobles and showed some spine, especially where her husband was concerned. Thinking of Lord Mayfair brought a frown to Alayna’s face. Now there was a rake, if there ever was one. He was probably use to women falling all over him. He probably didn’t believe in the marriage vows he took. Alayna despised men like that. She had a lot of respect for Lady Mayfair by this time, as well as pity. Still, she didn’t trust her host either because something wasn’t right with this event. Lady Mayfair’s apology confirmed her thoughts. Looking at the noblewoman, Lady Renoldi nodded and managed to remove her frown.

“It’s quite all right Lady Mayfair. This little event is decent enough. At least it is not like the overcrowded rooms of the balls in London during the season proper.” She replied.

Observant, entertained eyes took their sweep. Aulay took a deep breath in, then out, taking in the taste and smell of the ballroom. He felt comfortable, albeit a bit warm. Festivities like this were a second home to him, one more welcoming than the estate his family owned. At parties like this, he was his true self, free of business worries. He could talk ears off and flirt and have a good time. It was all fun he never tired of. The whir of colors and words passing him by as he stood still were lulling out his personality. He wanted to find someone to talk to.

When he had received his invite to this function, he was especially excited. The Mayfairs were famed for their grand estate. Aulay had expected this ball to be quite grand as well. And indeed it was. More intriguing however, was the assortment of guests. He immediately recognized some guests. Or the family they belonged to rather. Renoldi, Phaedra, Chevalier, and Greystone were a handful of names that immediately processed in his mind. The unique thing, he had noted earlier upon entering, was the good number of common people laced in with these high names. He would definitely want to strike up a few conversations with them; he always found those of the lower class rather entertaining. They were more commonly genuine then the members of his class.

Aulay’s bright blue eyes darted around the ballroom once more, before he ventured from the wall of which he had been leaning. Finding too much joy in taking in the setting of the night, he had been much more reserved than usual. He felt his pocket watch lightly thump against his waist in his pocket with each step he took. He was glad that he had dressed lighter tonight, in a vest rather than a coat. The heat from the many bodies around him was palpable.

He stopped along the way and nicked some sweets from a nearby table. His face immdiately gained a childish glow. Aulay ate three or so before stalling himself. The night had barely started. He didn't need the sugar to be making him too much more lively than he was yet. At the same table, the procured a diminutive glass of brandy. He recognized a pretty blonde face and started to chat with her. Both started to laugh a minute or so in, a few moments later a blush broke out upon her cheeks. Their talk lasted a few more minutes, then ended with Aulay's lips upon her hand and her blushing resuming. He finished off the few sips of brandy in his glass, then placed the empty glass back on the table. His walking resumed.

Before taking too long of journey, he recognized a rather important face. It was lady Mayfair herself. Her red locks were a rather signature trait. Upon drawing closer, he saw she was with Lady Renoldi as well. This would be quite fun indeed. Entering the two’s space quietly, a large grin bloomed across Aulay’s lips.

“Pardon my rudeness, I can see that you two were conversing, Lady Mayfair, Lady Renoldi,” as he said their titles, he gave a curt nod toward each woman, “but I thought I should say thank you for your quite gracious invitation Lady Mayfair.”

His voice came out extremely cheery, feather light. His stance was relaxed, not befitting of his status. It was far too obvious that he was already enjoying himself.

Clarice still had no idea why she had came to the Mayfair's party. It was the second event she had been invited too (that was hosted by them) and she estimated this one would be just as boring as the first. As the carriage bumped along on the road she took a moment to gather herself. Her and Lady Genevieve had gotten along at the last party but just by a hair. If it had not been for Clarice taking the time to introduce herself, then the lady of the house probably would not have invited her back for a second go around. For some reason, she could not deny the invitation when it arrived in the mail. She felt compelled to go, so for the second time she packed her bags and made the trek to their lavish estate.

By the time she arrived at Mongolia Manor the sun had decided to tuck itself away for the night and only a few rays of light managed to illuminate what bit of day was left. After the carriage pulled to a halt and one of the servants opened the door she stepped down from the stairs, not bothering to take the hands that offered to help her down. She did not need there help walking down a set of carriage stairs. Clarice would never let herself sink to a low of being helped down stairs, it was an uncanny thought and probably only made men desire her more, her resentment was delicious.

The sun hit her dress pefectly as she stepped into the light. The dress had no corset (very rare) and the ivory lace hung on her body. It was not terribly revealing like her last one was. It was classy but new. Under her bust was a thin ribbon with a flower broach. She had her hair up in a elaborate bun with a few stay ringlets hanging down. As for makeup, she kept it edgy. Crimson lipstick and that was it.

Once inside she evaluated the group of people already there and thankfully she had been late. Most mingled around the room and soon enough her crystal blue eyes caught a hold of who she wanted to talk to. Lady Mayfair. She made her way across the floor up to her a smile that showed most of her perfectly white teeth broke the ice. "Lady Maryfair." She curtsied and bowed her head a tad before raising her gaze up to the lady's. "It is truly a pleasure to be invited to your estate again, I recieved the invitation right as I was pondering going back to Oxford, I decided I would come here first as I do not know when I shall return." Clarice nodded to the man and the other woman which happened to be Alayna. "It is also just as marvelous to see you Lady Alayna."

(Here is the dress she is wearing. http://i00.i.aliimg.com/photo/v0/333650742/China_vintage_grace_sleeveless_lace_wedding_dresses.jpg)

Alyna replied with a composed look that the event was decent enough. “Decent” wasn’t exactly the word Genevieve was looking for, but she was grateful to Ms. Renoldi for her patience and for not inquiring further on the celebration’s true reason. Their polite and short conversation was interrupted by a cheerful voice.

Lady Mayfair smiled while her amber eyes sparkled at the sight of the young man. She was quite interested in the blonde boy as a suitable pair for the young Adelia, both fair skinned, childish and innocent. It was a real pleasure to imagine the two as a couple. What piqued her interest was the fact that Aulay came from a family renowned for violent men and yet he looked so angelic. Genevieve had yet to find out his true colors; she hoped his personality would match his looks. There was no doubt however that he had been well raised and well taught in the art of conversation.

“I should be the one thanking you, Sir Archer. Your presence here is like the first ray of light in the morning. It is also very befitting for this special event, we are celebrating the longest period of daylight after all.”

Another soon joined them and she recognized Lady Clarice. The first time she visited Magnolia a scandal broke out concerning her and Lord Byron just from a single dance. In truth, Lady Mayfair couldn’t decide whether to forgive her or not although they shared one of the most pleasant conversations Genevieve had in years with another woman.

"It is truly a pleasure to be invited to your estate again, I recieved the invitation right as I was pondering going back to Oxford, I decided I would come here first as I do not know when I shall return.” she said with a natural tone.

“Your decision to postpone education for this small event honors me, Lady Clarice. I thank you on behalf of my husband as well.” The subtle irony in her voice outmatched the friendly use of Ms Phaedra’s first name.

Genevieve arranged the pleats on her turquoise dress, a signal well known to the servant who came caring a plate in his hand. He offered the small white pieces of bread filled with black caviar to the guests.

“As you might have heard already, I take pride in Magnolia’s main cook, but even she cannot make something as delicious as this Atlantic delicacy: sturgeon roe. Please enjoy it with a glass of France’s finest sparkling wine while I bring Miss Chevalier to join our little group. I don't believe Sir Archer had the pleasure of meeting Lady Phaedra yet” she concluded just before her departure.

Genevieve left them with the intention of coming back quickly, hopefully with Adelia to make introductions. She looked over the crowded ball room searching for the young woman, but instead she ended up gazing at another guest.

Damon Greystone arrived only a bit later than some of the other guests, having no particular interest whatsoever. He despised the party even before he entered Magnolia Manor, he despised the men and the women attending it, he despised the food and the drinks that were served, the servants that served them, the building that held all of them together. Damon Greystone despised everything and everyone with the amount of effort a heavyweighter would lift a feather: miminum to none, mostly because this was his natural state of mind.

The first thing he did when he entered the ballroom was to take a glass of whatever it was in it and retire in the darkes corner, eager to see this party over and done so he could return home as fast as possible. The Mayfairs had little influence in society compared to his family, although they might have been just a tad wealthier so they presented little interest to this member of the Greystones. Not even their peculiar note left an impression, he was just forced to attend by his father with the promise of inheritance if he met all the conditions. “The conditions” were actually just one, that to marry and have children of his own.

Damon would rather die than marry. At least, that was what he thought at first, but as the prospect of living on the streets was presented to him in a very detailed fashion by his father, marriage sounded less unpleasant all of a sudden. In spite (or maybe precisely because) of his best efforts to go unnoticed, his pale visage and unmoving facial muscles or his lack of enthusiasm, Damon caught the attention of several women attending the celebration, including Genevieve’s.

She came over to welcome him with her usual smile and cheerful disposition, thinking that he might feel misplaced among all these strangers and that it was her duty as a host to help in this matter. Damon replied to her greeting with a frown and a cold, hateful look that made her believe she had killed his most loved ones, tarnished his dreams and stolen his life at the same time without realizing any of these.

Aulay was glad for his hostess’ warm reception. He was going to enjoy his time at this estate if she was the one who ran it. He tucked some of the ever present stray hairs framing his face behind his ear, keeping his hand resting childishly there. It was a habit that had died hard, one that had used to comfort him. Now he did it automatically to give his hands something to do, regarless of how he felt.

“I am once more honored by your words, such poetry spoken of me is truly gracious."

His response, though humble, was true. This was evidenced by a bit of color that had come to his cheeks. Aulay's ears perked up at Lady Chevalier's mention. With all the events he attended, and her family name, he was a bit puzzled that he had never seen her before. He was anxious for their introduction.

At his hostess’ leave and offering, Aulay outstretched a hand for the caviar. He took a bite and a pointed salt and fish filled his mouth, awakening it from the sugar that had dulled its taste buds. A look of shock became apparent on his face and he immediately reached for the wine and downed a hearty sip. Traces of bewilderment lingered in his eyes for a moment then faded suddenly. He seemed to snap back into reality. Aulay seemed to decide then to take Lady Mayfair's request of introducing himself to the Phaedra woman.

He had recognized her before her introduction, despite the fact that she was French. She lived up to the rumors he had heard, extremely beautiful overall. He turned his head toward her with a warm smile.

“Lady, excuse me, or was it Duchess Phaedra? It’s a pleasure. Your name is quite famous. It’s rather unusual, admirable to me, for a woman to be in such a high place in this society without a husband by her side. You as well Lady Renoldi, the company I'm in tonight is truly great. How are things back home for you both? Has fortune been smiling upon your wealth and estates?"

Aulay's mouth was once again running high, him contentedly letting it take over. He took another, less urgent sip of his wine, making an effort to actually taste it.

Lady Mayfair had taken the time to introduce her to the man that was known as Aulay. Strange name, but Clarice found it to be pleasant on her lips. A waiter offered her toast with roe which she easily denied. She was never one for eating, let alone eating in public. Clarice was picky when it came to what passed her lips and the only foods she ingested were normally raw vegetables and rare fruits.

“Lady, excuse me, or was it Duchess Phaedra? It’s a pleasure. Your name is quite famous. It’s rather unusual, admirable to me, for a woman to be in such a high place in this society without a husband by her side. You as well Lady Renoldi, the company I'm in tonight is truly great. How are things back home for you both? Has fortune been smiling upon your wealth and estates?"

Lord Aulay spoke kindly to her, strange. He was to innocent for her palate. She mostly went for rugged and tough men but he was so soft and innocent. Clarice would never forgive herself if she corrupted the poor boy. A small smile flickered over her crimson lips. "I am a duchess, but whichever title suits your taste better is what you can call me by, but please, refrain from my last name as it is much to formal. Simply Lady or Duchess Clarice will fit perfectly." With three fingers she lifted a glass of red wine from a platter and took a small sip letting the crimson liquid sink down her throat and disperse over her tongue. "My husband has passed on, otherwise he would have attended with me. Perhaps you knew him. Duke Irvine of Versailles. He was quite the man." She had mastered the look of sadness in her face, though no one would be able to tell it was fake. Her pale eyes even watered up a small bit, "Home life is pleasant, lonely at times," Which was true, she did get lonely. Just because she had men in her bed did not mean her mind was appeased emotionally. There was no reason not to be honest with the man, she was not one to hide anything, "It is quite difficult to make a living as a woman in the most lavish cities in France and the only way to keep my money would to be to marry, but I do not intend on giving away Irvine's possessions so easily. They meant so much to me."

With that she nodded and smiled humbly again, despite every rumor he ever heard of her, the woman he was meeting now would be totally different. Instead of sultry and sly she would come across as humble and lonely. Perfect. "What about you Sir Archer?"

Vasile looked at Anna and smiled while went forward. He followed her and Emma until they reached a servant’s roo. Vasile stood in the doorway and looked around as if searching for something, crossing himself in the same time.

“Father Vasile, miss Penclave, this is Jared Forehand, Magnolia’s main butler. Lady Mayfair sent for the doctor since yesterday, but we received no answer so far, I’m afraid he’s been summoned out of the city for a while and there is no one else so trustworthy as our physician.”

Near the servant’s bed was a small wooden table, of an elegant color. The young missionary put his seemingly light bag on it, which was very heavy in fact and started to take out a few things. He always carried everything that he needed in his field of work.

“Miss Emma, please open the windows and pull the curtains so that fresh air can enter the room.”

He took out a yellow wax candle and lit it then a small icon lamp and burned incense near Jared’s head.

“You’ve been wronged, kind soul, yet our Savior Jesus Christ and our Father only wish for justice. “ he smiled to Jared and told him to close his eyes and to take a deep breath, as deep as his painful ribs would allow.Vasile kneeled beside the bed and put his hands over the man’s wounds.

“In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost I pray to the Holy Trinity....” his warm gentle voice merged with the windcoming from the window. The candle’s light became brighter and filled the room. Vasile whispered unknown words in his mother tongue, his prayer sounded inhuman. Some words like Lord, angels, saints came out and the incense’s smoke got thicker, covering him and Jared. The butler took a deep breath and the smoke filled his lungs.

Vasile spoke aloud:

“Blessed be thy name God, thy will be done and may your justice overflow the world!”

Small beads of sweat covered his face. Jared opened his eyes bewildered, afraid to move because he might feel the pain.
“Why are you afraid kind soul? Don’t you know that there is nothing to fear as long as you do God’s will?” Vasile whispered something at his ear.
“Do you believe now? Justice has been brought to you and my soul rejoices with yours.”
He took out a small knife and started to cut off Jared’s bandages. Emma’s gaze made him turn around for a bit. Then Jared stood up on the bed and looked at his wounds that weren’t there anymore and he could breath normal.
“I’m sorry Miss Penclave, but our work here is done. You can examine him of course, but I can assure you that besides a small pinch, there is not other concern.”
He made the sign of the cross again, blew out the candle and put his things back in the bag.
“Justice has been done” he said looking at Emma and Jared “ I ask of you not to mention any of these events to anyone else, I do not want to draw attention upon myself.” Vasile was afraid he might be seen as an entertainment or that everyone would ask him qestions, make him predict the future or who knows what else.
“Thank you, father” Jared said and Vasile told him the he must thank the Holy Trinity. He went out of the room, wishing for some time alone to pray for the help given. His hands trembled slightly while his eyes filled with tears, joyful tears.
Emma went after him and grabbed him by the hand.
“Now I know who you are, father Vasile.”
“I’m a sinner just like everyone else.” He said and his green eyes sparkled because of the water. She let him go.

Vasile stopped in front of a large window, taking in the fresh air of the night. He was happy knowing that everything was right for the moment, that he took one step closer toward God. He stayed there for a while talking to his Father, lost in his thoughts, not wanting to get back to the party so soon.
*

Oddly enough, Lord Byron was eager to have the guests over as soon as possible, especially the feminine part. Because his wife never hired anyone younger than the forty to fifty year old maids she had since a child, Lord Byron had to seek company outside of his home and that was quite bothersome. He agreed to have the unknown guests over for a couple of weeks only when Genevieve told him they were all unmarried. This made him ponder on her motivations for a while as the number of males was equivalent to the girls’, but he wasn’t one to refuse such an entertainment. He loved that part of his wife: that she was fond of games and parties and he loved her vivid imagination although he never took her ramblings about past lives and soul mates seriously.

I’ll let her have her little fun while I’ll be having mine. He thought that nothing could go wrong and that maybe for the first time in the past month he wouldn’t be so bored anymore.

Things went as expected, maybe even better. Not only were the women beautiful and young, but also Clarice Phaedra happened to be one of the special guests invited to stay for two weeks at the manor. He remembered the quadrille they danced and the kiss on her neck he managed to give in a dark corner when no one was watching. The only question was, did she remember it as well?

Byron watched Genevieve leaving his side to greet Alayna Renoldi, another lady that caught his attention. She was fair and cold, the kind that begged to be seduced, but not easy to catch according to Byron’s knowledge of noble women. The kind that takes patience and a great deal of effort , he thought. His mind drifted into imagination again as he pictured the two standing in his bedroom, half undressed, blushing and...
Then he saw a young man greeting them casually, as if he knew them from before. Byron vaguely remembered meeting him, he never paid any real attention except for people wearing a dress that also happened to be part of the female gender. The blonde guest looked like the type who stirred maternal instincts in the heart of older women, thus making him a potential threat.

Lord Mayfair wanted to go over to them, but he was too lazy to start moving his legs. Then something made him decide no to stay put. Clarice Phaedra in a white, laced dress joined their circle.
“Uncorsetted, her friendly bust
Gives promise of pneumatic bliss. as T.S. Eliot might say” he said and finished his drink.

Genevieve left them not long afterwards, this was his queue.

“do not intend on giving away Irvine's possessions so easily. They meant so much to me. What about you Sir Archer?" Clarice’s voice rang in his ear as he drew closer.

“I believe our young guest just got wealthier only by being in your presence, my ladies. Allow me to join him in this little adventure, a treasure hunt as some might call it.” He said gazing at Alayna from her silvery hair to her delicate shoes, then looking over to Clarice.

Alayna took the part of the observer when Lord Archer joined her and Lady Mayfair. Of course she knew about his family. They were pretty infamous from what she heard, but Alayna rarely listened to gossip. Instead, she relied on her own observations. Some of them were as bad as the rumors, but there were a few who appeared to be the polar opposite. Lord Aulay Archer was one of them. He reminded her of Adelia, only male. It baffled her how such a young man could have come from such a family. Maybe it was an act. Whether it was one or not, Lady Renoldi would just have to wait and see.

No sooner had Lord Archer greeted them, Lady Clarice arrived. If Alayna was honest with herself, she would admit that she had a mixed opinion about the noblewoman. While definitely a temptress, Lady Clarice was also an educated woman. How she used that knowledge, Alayna didn’t always approve. It was women like her that always drew men away from their wives. At the same time, it was still the men’s fault for even straying. When Lady Mayfair excused herself to retrieve Adelia, Lord Archer inquired about their estates. She listened to Lady Clarice and had the urge to role her eyes. While Lady Clarice appeared to be honest about her sadness of losing her husband, Alayna’s gut feeling told her otherwise. She did feel that Lady Clarice was being honest about being lonely though. Lady Renoldi almost took pity on her, almost.

After she finished, Lord Mayfair appeared. His remark about her and Lady Clarice caused her spine to stiffen and her eyes to harden. If looks could kill, Lord Mayfair would be on the floor writhing in pain already. She knew very well that he was looking for any conquest. He would meet his match though. It was men like him that caused Alayna to have a sour opinion of men in general. Completely ignoring him, Lady Renoldi turned to Lord Archer.

“My life is well, sir. I certainly do treasure the things and people around me that are in my home.” She replied.

The last remark was geared more towards Lord Mayfair.

Soon enough, Lord Bryon managed to join the circle. Her heartbeat quickened a bit at the memory of their last meeting.

Clarice never knew Lord Bryon could be such an amazing dancer, and he impressed her nonetheless. His devious looks as he spun her in circles only made her want to get alone with him more. Even if it was just for a moment. The lively music died down as the night progressed and more intimate groups of people formed to have their own conversations. So the Lady and Lord somehow managed to slip away into a secluded section of the room. From where they were, nobody would be able to see them, yet they could view everyone.

"Lady Clarice, may I?" His fingertips brushed up against her collarbone as he moved her hair to the side away from her neck. A small gasp escaped her lips ever so slightly. This was exactly the kind of fun she was looking for, though she did not plan to give in so easily. Lord Bryon leaned down and began placing small kisses, starting from her collarbone up to her neck. The rush of being in the same room with his wife was addicting, but Clarice was not that easy.

"Lord Bryon, I am afraid I will have to be cutting your little escapade short. I am a busy woman and must return home. Until next time." With that Lady Clarice stepped away from him, cutting Bryon off from her silky skin.

That was her last memory of the Lord and it had not fled from her mind at all. Clarice was normally not so attracted to man like him, but his rough hands and rushed actions, not to mention his martial status, all meant more fun. As he "graced" them with his presence she caught ever so lightly that he looked to Alayna first, instead of her. A pang of jealousy had already rooted itself deep in her gut. Clarice was a double standard herself, she could flirt with whomever she pleased but any man that took her bait needed to stay loyal to her, or at least stay loyal when she was around. Behind closed doors she could care less what affairs took place in their lives.

Clarice noted as Lady Alayna made a witty comment in which she understood perfectly. It was times like these Clarice wished she could tell one person her past, what she had been through and why she takes part in the things she does. Maybe then, she would not be judged so harshly. After all, under the protective skin that made her who she was, was a small child that just wanted an alive mother and a father that did not sell her for pleasures, but it was to late for all that now.

She took another sip of the sweet crimson wine and licked her lower lip ever so slightly as to not disturb the peaceful balance in the group. "Lord Bryon," She nodded to him but she had no intention on curtsying to him as that would give him to much of an ego boost. Clarice never bowed down to a man, especially one that was chasing her. From her knowledge of noble men it seemed they liked a defiant woman. "I would say 'fancy seeing you here' but it is your estate, so instead I must thank you for the invitation. I am grateful to be allowed to come back to your marvelous estate." While saying this she did not bother looking in his direction until the very last words. To a man, this would make her seem not interested in the conversation which meant he had to try much harder, but Lord Bryon was not just any man. So the lady could not pinpoint his next words or actions.

“Thank you, Miss Penclave, your assistance is most desirable. If you would follow me”

The woman’s reply came shortly, on a pleasant tone. Anna followed her lead, alongside the quiet priest until they reached a servant’s room, more precisely Jared’s.

Upon seeing the state he was in, Anna marveled and pondered who would beat the poor man so. From what she could see, Jared seemed to have one or two ribs broken and his left deltoid muscle crushed. When Emma finally left Jared’s side Anna motioned towards his bed but was cut off by Father Vasile, who went ahead and started performing his healing on Jared.

The scene that followed seemed utterly strange and impossible to Anna: the smoke from Vasile’s incense thickened, his voice got in sync with the wind and Jared’s wounds and bruises disappeared right under her eyes.

“I’m sorry Miss Penclave, but our work here is done. You can examine him of course, but I can assure you that besides a small pinch, there is no other concern.”

The priest’s words pulled her out of the maelstrom of thoughts that were swirling like crazy trying to find logical explanations for what she had witnessed, knowing that what he had just did was impossible. She rushed over to Jared’s bed to thoroughly examine him. Without saying a word she started to press the skin on his face, around his lower jaw, on his shoulder and on the front and back of his torso. And surely enough a slight jolt in pain coming from Jared alerted her that Father Vasile didn’t heal him completely, if that’s what he did. Further pressing along the man’s back helped her conclude: his Latissimus dorsi muscle was crushed, but not completely. As she got up she addressed Emma.

“Miss Chambers please go and tell one of the maids to boil some water and bring a cup here, and to bring a glass of cold water too, as soon as possible. Oh, and some sugar, I’d say two lumps.”

She then exited the room fast and in a breath got to hers. Out of her trusty travel kit she took a vial with ginger oil and a brownish pill wrapped in silver foil, then got back to Jared’s room. Just a few minutes later one of the maids entered with the necessaries Anna asked for. She put the ginger oil in the hot water along with the sugar and stirred it, as if preparing tea, and gave Jared the cup urging him to drink it. Then turned to Emma for the second time.

“Please give him this pill a short while after he finishes the diluted ginger oil, and make sure that he drinks the whole glass of water with it. The ginger oil is antipyretic and antibacterial and it will make sure that the wounds Father Vasile healed aren’t infected with anaerobic bacteria; the pill will calm and heal his crushed back muscle, albeit in a matter of days. As for his other wounds, I think those are your area of expertise.”

She met Emma’s eyes hoping she’ll understand what wounds she was referring to. Finishing her work she exited the room, leaving Emma to attend to Jared, and strolled back to the ballroom. On the way there she still tried to figure out what Father Vasile did, it puzzled her the more she thought about it but she had to get to the bottom of it, because to help those in need of healing was the only thing that gave her joy, that made her calling useful, and if this priest was able to do the same without any help from modern medicine then what good was she for?

'But no matter what I will find out, I won't give up and let someone else carry all the burden...' Dazed by her thoughts she entered the bright ballroom on thoughts.

He was bit surprised that the, infamous would be applicable in this situation (or so he had heard), Duchess Phaedra was as humble as she was displaying. He was conflicted on whether it was an act or an all too common false rumor. Aulay made a mental note to try to investigate further, this was intriguing. He figured they would get time alone sometime in the fortnight that they would both be inhabitants of the Mayfair Manor.

He answered both quickly once they had spoken, “Alright, Duchess Clarice. Oh my, forgive me, you have misunderstood my words. I was referring to the fact that he is deceased. And I’m incredibly sorry for your loss of him. Alas, I was too young to know him, but my father spoke highly of him from the few times they’d met. And very well. I’m in the cotton industry, and while it’s not a very elegant cloth, my company had signed on deal with some high end designers as of late. And I’m very glad for you Lady Renoldi.”

He watched as his host entered their cozy little chat. He reminded Aulay of his wife, the same warmth and friendliness, only it seemed false unlike hers. He had met the man before, business matters probably. The most distinct thing he had reaped from their prior interaction was the Lord’s tendency of wandering eyes. Aulay had been quite impressed with him. The man seemed incredibly smart, but in a way where he employed this to only his benefit. As were many nobles, so Aulay didn’t take too much offense to it.

“Ah Lord Byron! Pleasure to see you again. And I must warn you, my face is deceitful, I’m actually only four years your younger. But you are indeed correct, let us, despite how the fun of subtlety is now erased” Aulay mused, adding a good laugh.

As the other male in the circle and the other blonde in the circle conversed, he let himself dabble in observations of them for a few moments. A sly grin broke out at the two’s exchange.

“Seems you’ve beat me to the treasure hunt already Lord Byron. I’ll leave you two be. Make smart decisions you two. Lady Renoldi, could I trouble you for a dance?”

A tone of childish mischief was in his voice, but his body language bore no ill will, because he had none for either. He outstretched a sure hand to Lady Renoldi as a furthering of his suggestion. He met her eyes with his as well, trying to convey his amusement and desire to talk with her.

((Sorry for the late post.))

hi

ok i HAVE To do it in here because otherwise u willnot reply fish! ---okay,1 I dont know how! And 2~ It says I WAS Accepted

Alayna was able to catch a little flash in Lady Clarice's eyes when she saw Lordy Mayfair looking at her. She was probably use to men looking at her. Lady Renoldi was aware that she herself drew many gazes from men of all types. However, one look at her icy gaze caused them to turn away. However, there was always the few wolves who weren't deterred and those few times Alayna got nasty. While her late husband had been unfaithful to her, he demanded her faithfulness and even helped her in protecting herself against the wolves of the ton. So Alayna knew a few self defense tricks and if she had a bow and arrow with her, she was leathal. Violence though was usually a last resort for it rarely came to that. Lady Renoldi had the reputation of being one of the coldest ladies in England. Even a few of a her siblings couldn't believe how much she changed. One of her closest siblings was her oldest sister, Carlotta, who was now married to a don in Italy with 5 kids, the oldest being 15. Carlotta was 13 years older than Alayna and sort of became the mother figure after their mother died. She had been one of the few who tried to prevent Alayna's marriage to Edgar. Unfortunately at the time she was pregnant and her husband had been traveling so there was much she could do. She did offer Alayna the chance to move down to Italy after Edgar's death, but Alayna refused because she didn't want to abandon those who were under her care. However, the real reason why she didn't want to move to Italy was because she knew seeing Charlotta's children would hurt her more so because it would remind her of her 3 miscarriages.

Alayna was shooked out of her thoughts when she heard Lord Archer speak. She was a bit surprised when he asked her to dance with him. It was almost laughable. While Alayna was still young, she felt much more older and mature because of what happened to her in recent years. Still the boy was being kind and while she didn't want to leave Lady Clarice and Lord Byron alone, she wanted to get away from Lord Mayfair's wondering gaze too.

"It's no trouble sir." she said stoicly as she placed her hand in his and let him lead her to the dance floor.

The time spent mingling at this party was time spent in an unwanted situation indeed... Though Alric wished deeply for some sort of companionship, he could not find himself to feel at ease with his peers. Alric had grown up on the more wealthy side of the middle class, but middle class still, so these "uptight, posh, ponces," as he called them, weren't in his style of conversation. Though Alric had worked his way up to nobility, he did so with a powerful arm in business, burning bridges, then building them back better and stronger along the way... But these relationships were completely professional. Truthfully, Alric despised much of the men he dealt with in his trade, simply cooperating to further his name and engorge his coffers. Though, there was a reason he attended tonight. Not to make friends. Not to promote his name. To pay his respects to the Lord and Lady of the house, who helped him along in his business ventures. They had been a valuable resource indeed, and turned out to be two of the few friends he had in his busy life, apart from the servants of his home.

Though they seemed busy tonight, and far be it from Alric to throw himself into a group of experienced businessmen, politicians, and aristocrats without intent of suicide. It became widely evident that Alric would need to wait for them to approach him, or take opportunity to catch them away from crowd to give his thanks. It was rather an agony, however, to be standing alone in the ballroom, with nothing but a mostly empty glass of rich champagne to occupy his thoughts. He silently yearned for some sort of intelligent conversation, with anyone who looked to be interesting enough, yet his dislike of crowds, and misanthropic state of mind forced him to keep his distance. 'I'll be damned if I can find a sociable person on this earth, at the rate I'm finding them.' he mused, taking a small sip of champagne as he continued to scan the crowd.

Alric was a bit less dressed up than the other guests. Though he wore a waistcoat, it was much less ornate than most of the other guests'. It was a simple black vest, adorned with a red collar ornament, all on top of a crimson, long sleeve dress blouse, as was traditional of the nobility. His pants were a pair of black slacks that he often wore out on one of his business ventures, a simply pinstripe pattern running down his entire set-up. His hair, which was usually relatively unkempt, had been tied back in a much neater ponytail, his frontal bangs slicked up over the top of his head and out of his face with an oil that smelled of spearmint. His face had been cleanly shaven for the event, his usual stubble or shadow stricken cruelly from existence. The only aspect of Alric's usual appearance that remained intact seemed to be his expression. Cold. Piercing sapphire eyes, that screamed a look of boredom and disdain to all who caught a glimpse, as well as a straight face, nearly a frown adorning his face, which would have been handsome, had Alric attempted to smile, or even smirk.

Luna held the umbrella over her head, twirling it. She was a little late, but that shouldn't be a problem. Luna smiled to herself, she found it funny. How they thought her so kind and delicate. It made her chuckle, which caused some stares here and there. Luna kept to the shadows of the room, she felt a little more secure there. Luna glanced down at her dress, it wasn't exactly fashionable, but she adored it. She let out a small sigh, she was getting quite bored by now. Maybe she should play with someone? Hm, someone catch her. Luna puzzled over it for a moment, tilting her head up to the ceiling. But she did love the thrill.

Luna tore herself from her thoughts as she looked around the room once more. She narrowed her eyes, looking a little cat like. She hummed softly as she looked for someone to play with. Luna stepped out of the shadows trying to lure anyone over to her. Just a glance and she would grasp them in her clutches. Luna snickered, a man or a woman? It didn't matter much to her, she just wanted to see the look of pure horror. She shivered at the thought, it never failed to please her deeply. Luna held the umbrella a little closer and stopped moving it. She silenced herself, just staring intensely whoever caught her gaze. Who would fall for it this time?

Luna's hazel eyes glinted, it was flooded of darkness and something very twisted. This party was going to be very fun, she knew that as a fact. It was big, and in huge mansion. She was pretty sure she could be undisturbed, if she found someone to play with. Lost in her little world, she started to walk again, in a rather slow pace. Luna let out a small sigh as she caught a gaze of an young man. Luna couldn't help but smirk a little. Yet another in her grasp. Luna turned a little, heading towards him.

Alric took another sip of his champagne as he stood waiting from some sort of event to take place, his arms folded as he stood impatiently. 'Dammit Genevieve. Why must you have such an enthralling personality? I simply want five minutes of your time.' Alric kept quiet still, his internal monologue his only sense of company and conversation. Though in a few moments, Alric noticed the approach of a young woman. For a moment, he thought she were simply moving to meet someone else at the party, as Alric didn't recognize the woman in the slightest. She was young, and beautiful, yet it was of little concern to Alric. As their eyes met, his apathetic expression remained, the only part of his disposition changing was his position of arms. He unfolded them, as to let the woman know that he didn't mind her presence, yet his face reflected that in no aspect did he yet enjoy it. "Good evening, my Lady." Alric greeting her in an unenthused monotone. "Might I interest you in a glass of champagne, and a spot of conversation...?"

As he awaited her response, Alric was approached by a servant of the house, who carried a platter of drink and food. Saying little more than "Thank you" to the man, Alric placed his empty glass down, and took two more in one hand, the other placing a coin on the man's platter as a tip. He now offered the second glass to the woman who approached. "My treat, of course." he joked, as it was all hosted by the Lord and Lady of the house. Though his expression hadn't lightened, his tone began to in an attempt to sound more welcoming. If he desired friends, it was a simple fact that he could not speak as if he were insulted by their very presence... Though the exercise of contorting his face into one of gratitude and joy was one long lost in the world of shrewd business and the harsh truth of the political world. "What might I call you, Miss?"

Luna smiled sweetly at him. She took the glass, brushing her fingers against his. "My name is Luna J. Darwin, but you may call me Luna." She said, getting right to the point. Even if he wasn't very 'welcoming', she didn't mind. Luna liked it when they're hard to get. She chuckled, and took a sip. He was quite handsome, Luna also liked that. "Now, what can I call you?" She asked, tilting her to head the side ever so slightly. She blinked and let just an hint of a
smirk on her face. He seemed a little older then her, but not too much. He also seemed rather cold and indifferent, judging by his expression. And something told her that he much experience with business like things. She was sure he could keep his composure. She knew she could too, but how long? Luna thought she could outlast him, but she did have a big ego. She took a swift glance around the room, wanting to find a more private place.

Luna returned her gaze back to him, taking a small step towards the shadows. It wouldn't be the best 'private place', but at least it wouldn't be in the middle of the room. Maybe she could lead him there without him noticing? Luna doubted it but she would give it a shot. Luna took another sip, not breaking her staring contest with the young man. She brightened her smile to a innocent grin, that had an tiny hint of smugness to it.
She wondered how she was going to catch this one. Maybe she would lead him on then drop him to the dumps? Or would she simply kill him. Slowly or quickly. Luna had a tiny gleam in her eye as she mused over it. She was a little impatient but she was sure that cold face wouldn't last too long.

Nodding quietly as the young woman introduced herself, and accepted the glass, Alric's hand returned to his side, while the other remained upright with his own drink. As it appeared, the young woman didn't seem very "put off" by Alric's cold stare, and her intentions only fueled by it. As she asked for his name, Alric closed his eyes and took a sip of his drink, wondering whether to give her anything but his first name. Alric tended to be a very cautious person, especially with his name. It was often that he would find himself immersed in a dangerous situation due to his competitors, and business rivals... though he pushed these thoughts from his mind for the moment. 'It's merely a young woman wanting conversation... I haven't anything to lose.' he thought, opening his eyes now, looking back to Luna. "You may call me Alric. Alric Wolfgang Wilhelm." he stated seriously, his vision remaining locked on the girl's face. She seemed to be ludicrously giddy... Either that, or have an ulterior motive than a simple conversation. Then again, another option was absolute insanity as well... She seemed to have a sort of driving force behind her hazel eyes, that was somewhat unsettling to Alric and his unrivaled intuition.

As she walked slowly back into the shadows, keeping eye contact with him, Alric decided to follow, as the woman had peaked his interest. Not sexually, no, but she was indeed intriguing to say the least. As her grin escalated, Alric's face showed little response, the only difference being that he didn't look so angry, as he did in slight bewilderment. He detected her smug look, and devised that she was highly confident in herself, and her skills in... deception? Seduction? Whatever she was planning, she seemed to think it was flawless in every way possible.

With an attempt to make conversation, Alric looked to the woman's umbrella. "So... Miss Luna..." he began, still watching her coldly. "Why is it exactly you brought an umbrella?" Alric looked toward the window, the sky dark with night. "It isn't exactly bright enough to need a shield from sun, and the weather is clear as can be. Could your skin really be so fair as to be burnt by the moon?"

Genevieve felt as if his icy grey eyes were pinning her down, taking all the air out of her body. His gaze felt heavier than lead. She didn’t like this person. Not at all. He was nothing like his father, Earl Greystone, a chubby and joyful old man with a real passion for life. Lady Mayfair never had the occasion or the curiosity to find out who his mother was, but she was sure that Damon’s hateful attitude toward women was due to her running away with a gypsy lover. Some ill rumors rumors meant to place a question mark on Damon Greystone’s bloodline, but Earl never showed any signs of doubt and treated him like his true illegitimate son.

“I believe you have yet to meet my husband, Lord Byron Mayfair,” she said searching the room fervently, seeking help. She found him posted next to Clarice and his eyes locked on her figure like a wolf gazing at a sheep. Something in Genevieve’s heart twitched and she felt her chest filled with broken pieces of glass.

Mustering all her courage, she looked at Damon once more. The man only narrowed his eyes when he saw Byron’s figure. His colorless inner life has suddenly caught fire. Damon felt a strange, inexplicable need to talk with this man.

“Yes. I have to meet your husband,” he said still watching Byron like an eagle.
Damon was fascinated with his own interest for that person, he never felt anything like this before. He never...felt anything at all except for a mild, blank hate toward the feminine gender that reached its pique when he tried to murder his sisters and stepmother. Not even then did he felt any real pleasure coming from those thoughts or any emotion whatsoever, it was just a need like the need to eat or to sleep. He just had to do it, something inside urged him to. And now that something violently encouraged him to meet Lord Mayfair.

He ignored Genevieve’s presence and came over to where Aulay and Alayna were just a few moments ago, before leaving Byron and Clarice alone. He had no idea what he would say to the man, it would be his first time making an introduction all on his own. Usually he left this element of etiquette to others, if they insisted on meeting him – something they immediately regretted afterwards. He didn’t glance at the woman in white, not once, his piercing cold gaze was aimed at Byron alone.

“Lord Mayfair, good evening,” was all he managed to say before helding out his hand in greeting. Damon’s inquisitive eyes told more than his lips. For the first time in his life, he was interested in something...in someone.

Lady Mayfair let go of her breath, which she didn’t realize she was holding. She felt relieved.
“Terribly rude” was the first thought that came into mind. She needed a sparkling conversation and a sparkling wine to go with it (or was it the other way around?) and to wash away the unpleasant feeling Sir Greystone left behind. It was then that she saw Vasile approaching the ballroom from the servant’s quarter. Had he been blessing the Manor as he said he would when he first arrived? “Maybe he’s a little too eager as a pries”, that’s what she thought and then spoke aloud:

“I believe our Summer Solstice Celebration doesn’t fit a christian priest, Father Vasile. Alas, you are here and your are honoring Magnolia with your presence and good will. There is little I can do to reward you, yet I dare to ask more of you, Sir Vasile. Will you also honor me with a dance?” she asked not bothering to follow etiquette this time. She always viewed things different than women her age and status, maybe that was why she admired Clarice, someone with an independent mind that had the benefit of freedom. A woman never invited a man to dance, especially a priest, but this was her celebration and she couldn’t think of a better way to thank him than with an innocent dance.