Feigning Interest

The ball room is grand, the marble floors extending further than my eyes can see. Silk lines the walls and there are tables littered with goodies.

The women from Arcana are assigned to ballroom first and a quarter of the men. The rest of the men, split off after entering the ballroom, are scouring the palace looking for clues and information of any signs of betrayal.

Harps, and string instrument plays through the room, echoing beautifully on the quartz walls and chiseled pillars. The ladies of Arcana next to me are very slowly easing into other's discussions, smiling and giggling prettily. I would rather just speak directly as beating around the bush wastes both my time and theirs.

Not that I care about their time, but there are more efficient ways to get information than be coy. I sigh, but I do as I am told. I can internally feel the glare from the crown prince at my thoughts of rebellion.

A glass of wine is dangling daintily between my black-gloved fingers, and I mingle with the crowd. I assert myself in conversations I find interesting, and the males certainly do not mind.

Their beady eyes keep dropping to the lower cut of my dress, and I internally cringe. Feeling violated, I force to keep an amiable smile on my face.

Finally, I hear some suspicious talk that sounds important. I subtly assert myself into the conversation.

"Sir Blythe, medicine seems to be going out of style, no?" I say, taking a sip of my wine.

His ears get red when I address him.

"I do not think so. There are many diseases being spread during this time of year. The colder season is bringing people into a tighter space, making it easier to contract illnesses. Medicine is what is needed during this time."

I open my eyes wide. "Oh really. Well if that is the case, I would not mind staying a tight space with you, Sir Blythe, as you know so much about medicine."

The men around us start to blubber, but I grace them with an inwardly devilish smile. Sir Blythe makes a choking sound in the back of this throat.

"I am just jesting. On another matter, shall we?"

Hearing grunts of agreement makes me want to snicker. I school my features into a haunted one.

"I do hope that we find a cure for Loeniklien soon."

Another man speaks behind me. "I am sure there are some out there, Lady Ardele."

I meet the eyes of Lord Thomas. "Really? Would you care to share?"

"There are many homemade remedies on curing Loeniklien. The one that I have heard that works is more acidity in food and a damper atmosphere."

On the inside, I make a face. That "remedy" does nothing. If anything, it makes Loeniklien in the body worse. The myth that acidity helps with Loeniklien seems to be more popular than I thought.

Clara joins the conversation, her long red tresses up in a crisp chignon, not a hair out of place. My hair, on the other hand, is all over the place and down for a change, with some pieces braided together into a crown on my head entwined with gold thread to match my gold ballgown.

Clara's iridescent pastel pink gown goes perfectly with her complexion and she smiles at the men, completely enchanting them. Her aura immediately lighting the up the area.

"Good evening, gentlemen."

The men closest to her take turns kissing her hand.

"What were you all conversing about?"

Lord Thomas answers quick. "Cures of Loeniklien, Lady Clara."

Clara lets her brows come together into a pretty frown. "Is that so? How can Loeniklien be spread?"

A gentleman guffaws at her supposedly foolish question. "Loeniklien cannot be spread, ma'am. Once Loeniklien is in the body, it's permanently in the body and cannot be spread. The root however can be spread."

This is not new news to me. I know that the root could be spread, not the disease contracted from the person affect itself.

"The root can be spread through gas and powder. It is a very dangerous root, if not taken cared of properly. Most Southern kingdoms have banned the use."

"Why not the North?" I interject.

Lord Thomas cuts in before the other gentleman can finish. "The North has traditional dishes that calls for the use of the root. It is not something to worry about, Lady Ardele and Lady Clara."

Clara subtly glances at me, and I slowly flick my finger in a "carry on" motion.

"I think that this is a big issue that needs to be spoken about more, Lord Thomas," she says, innocently. "Don't you?"

"Aye, but-"

I jump in. "I have never heard of the powder form of the root before."

The gentleman from earlier, Sir Hudson nods. "The form of the powder is used more these days. It is gaining more and more popularity."

Lord Thomas glares sharply at Sir Hudson, and he immediately back peddles.

"Gaining more popularity, as in I have heard more about the powder being spread in that form lately."

I tilt my head, taking a sip of the red wine in my chalice. "Oh, I see. But how is the powder being spread?"

I can see the range of emotions and false excuses running through his blue eyes, but finally settles on a lie. "I do not know, Lady Ardele."

Humming, I flutter my lashes down. "Vampires are growing more and more in danger, yes?"

Sir Hudson nods, and I make a mental note in my head to remember their odd actions. Both Lord Thomas and Sir Hudson. The other men around are questionable, but these two are definitely up to something.

"Is that why your king made a treaty with the king of Arcana?"

"Indeed. To help procreate both human and vampire species."

Before I can inquire more, he excuses himself, along with other men to go grab some food trying to dent its copious amount.

When they are out of sight, I slide up to Clara, linking arms with her.

"They are suspicious, aren't they?" Clara smirks.

"They were quite obvious."

She shakes her head mockingly. "Humans."

I click my tongue at her. "Be nice."