Chapter 4: Cecilia

Cecilia Larossi sat at her desk, taking slow breaths to calm herself after rushing to the day's meeting. She had almost sprinted through the castle's corridors, her light steps barely audible over her maid's pleas to slow down. The High Chancellor had a reputation for harshly criticising those who arrived late, and Cecilia didn't want to risk his anger.

Just the other day he awfully scolded Lady Ivalyn for coming in late which made Cecilia slightly tremble upon hearing his loud and hoarse voice. But the other lady, thought younger, must have been much more courageous. Having her head a little bowed, she looked as she was repenting her actions. Yet, when their teacher stopped with his berating, the lady just smiled sweetly at him saying it won't happen again.

Although she knew the High Chancellor could not do anything more than berate them, his words were still enough to make Cecilia anxious.

Thankfully, Cecilia had arrived early to the meeting room, which was bathed in the afternoon sunlight streaming through high windows. Just a few steps from the door there were the five walnut desks facing the podium. They were prepared for them, each having an inkwell, a pen and a supply of parchments.

Behind them and on their left there were rows and rows of shelves with all kinds of books reaching the ceiling. The whole library was reserved only for them, for the five young nobles whose task was to bond with the dragon.

As Cecilia settled into her seat, she noticed two men chatting and joking nearby, one of whom glanced at her a few times before approaching with a smile.

"Good day, Lady Cecilia," he greeted her, his brown locks shining golden in the light.

She smiled gently at the two, "Good day to you too, Lord Markus, Lord Daemon!"

The first one looked cheerily at her, his eyes tinkling with enthusiasm while the latter simply nodded at her greeting, his icy grey eye showing no emotion. Lord Daemon was known to be succinct in his interactions and Cecilia was already used to his quiet demeanour.

"I trust the lady is not too tired after the ball last night," Lord Markus inquired.

Taking a long breath before releasing it quickly, she answered, "No, no. I just ran here to be on time. I don't want to think what the High Chancellor might have said otherwise."

Lord Markus bursted out in a short laughter making her eyes grow wide with indignation at the thought that he was laughing at her. Upon seeing her gaze, the man stopped with a cough.

"He's like that only with Lady Ivalyn, my lady, although I do understand him," he explained.

Cecilia was intrigued. "Only to her? And why is that?"

This time it was the other man who answered, his low voice sounding heavy in the room, "It seems the reputation of Duke Everglow overshadows her every action."

"I'd say her actions are pretty much in accordance with her father's," Lord Markus added, his face growing serious. "There is an obvious resemblance between the two. Afterall, the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree."

Cecilia's eyes widen at the sudden attacks towards the young lady. The duke's notorious reputation was well known, but for her, Lady Ivalyn seemed as lovely as any noble daughter could be. Maybe even more so.

Before she could take her side, Lord Markus quickly changed the subject, "But enough of that, there are merrier subjects to discuss. What did you think of the ball last night, my lady?"

Her lips spreaded in a wide smile and her eyes went beyond the two, to the night before and the ball, where she had so much fun. It was the most grandiose party she ever attended, much more than her coming of age ceremony or anything else. Its only drawback was that it ended.

"The highlight must have been when Baron Castor tried to suggest a marriage between his daughter and the prince," Lord Markus started laughing, "He must have drunk too much wine to even think of something so absurd."

Cecilia giggled, although she felt unjust to the baron's daughter. "Don't think too mean of the baron and especially of his daughter. One might never know, she might catch the prince's eye. She is quite pretty."

"It's irrelevant how pretty she might seem to others if the prince is not enchanted with her," Lord Daemon added. "And that would be the only reason to actually consider her. My opinion is that her father has too much ambition for his position."

The lady tried to take the other girl's side. "It wouldn't be the first time someone of lower rank has climbed in society."

The man nodded defeated. Her family's name, Larossi, could be tracked down to the time of the Great Mage, more than a thousand years ago. Only one other duke family was as old, the Martels, namely Markus' family and he smiled pleased at her.

The other three dukes had a more tumultuous history where the ruling family changed a few times. It was the situation for Lord Daemon as well, his father's family, the Hastings, coming to power in the region in the past two or three hundred years. His mother was of the old Rolfe family giving her son the specific grey eyes and dark hair of the daois.

"Well, it was anyway drunk talk from the baron. He then went on to make the same proposal to Duke Hastings," Lord Markus looked at the other man, laughing loudly.

"To say my father was not pleased is an understatement," he scorned and Cecilia joined in.

Their laughter was abruptly stopped by the sound of the opening door. All three turned to see the new coming, waiting to tell them the joke, to call them to join their little group. Yet none did any of that, staring instead at the door.

There stood Lady Ivalyn, her long slender figure perfectly framed by the door. She made a pause, acknowledging the people in the room before heading towards them.

"Good day, Lady Cecilia, Lord Markus, Lord Daemon," she greeted them with a faint enigmatic smile on her porcelaine face, looking at them with icy hazel eyes.

The three of them watched her with rapt attention, as if she were the main character of a play. The young woman glided to the last desk in the room, moving with such grace that she made no sound. Her hair, a rich shade of strawberry blonde, was woven into an intricate braid that crowned her head, while the rest of her wavy locks cascaded down her straight back.

Not for the first time, she was fascinated by Ivalyn's beauty and the way she presented herself. She was a mystery for Cecilia, in the same way the meeting between the lady and the crown prince from the night before.