Chapter Thirty-Two - The Founding Ball

The grand doors of the ballroom swung open, revealing a scene straight out of a fairy tale. Amelia's breath caught in her throat as she stepped inside, her eyes widening in awe at the sight before her. The room was ablaze with light and color, the chandeliers casting a warm glow over the swirling sea of dancers.

Alister offered her his arm, and she took it gratefully, the touch sending a thrill of warmth through her. Ethan followed close behind, his eyes wide with wonder. They moved through the crowd, greeting familiar faces and exchanging polite pleasantries.

As they made their way across the room, they caught sight of the crown princess, surrounded by a throng of admirers. Alister stiffened imperceptibly at the sight, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. Amelia shot him a questioning glance, but he quickly schooled his expression into one of polite indifference.

"Shall we greet her?" Ethan asked, his voice tinged with nervousness.

Alister nodded, though his eyes remained fixed on the princess. "We mustn't keep her waiting."

They approached the princess, and Alister offered a respectful bow. "Your Highness," he said, his tone courteous.

The princess acknowledged them with a gracious smile, her eyes lingering on Alister for a moment longer than strictly necessary. "Duke Alister, Duchess Amelia, it is a pleasure to see you," she said, her voice smooth as silk.

Amelia forced herself to smile, though she couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of her stomach. She exchanged polite pleasantries with the princess, but her mind was elsewhere, her thoughts swirling with suspicion and doubt.

As they moved away from the princess, Ethan leaned in close to Amelia, his voice low. "Do you think she suspects anything?"

Amelia shrugged, her gaze flickering back to the princess. "I'm not sure. But we must be careful."

They continued to circulate through the ballroom, greeting guests and engaging in idle chit-chat. But as the night wore on, Amelia couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. She glanced around the room, her eyes narrowing as they landed on a familiar face.

Tilly Manshester, the daughter of a viscount, stood across the room, her eyes fixed on Alister with an intensity that made Amelia's blood run cold. She could see the jealousy burning in Tilly's eyes, the resentment simmering just beneath the surface.

"Looks like we have an admirer," Ethan murmured, his lips quirking into a wry smile.

Amelia forced a laugh, though her heart was pounding in her chest. She could feel Tilly's gaze boring into her, the silent challenge hanging heavy in the air.

As Tilly approached, her expression was all false sweetness and saccharine smiles. "Duchess Amelia," she cooed, her voice dripping with honey. "What a pleasure it is to see you again."

Amelia forced herself to return the smile, though every instinct screamed at her to flee. "Lady Tilly," she replied, her tone polite but cool.

Tilly's smile widened, her eyes flashing with malicious intent. "I must say, I've heard so much about you. It's such a shame that rumors are often so inaccurate."

Amelia's jaw clenched, her fingernails digging into her palms. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean," she said through gritted teeth.

Tilly laughed, a high-pitched sound that grated on Amelia's nerves. "Oh, I think you do," she said, her voice dripping with venom. "But then again, why should I expect anything less from someone like you?"

Amelia's eyes narrowed, her temper flaring. "Someone like me?" she repeated, her voice dangerously low.

Tilly smirked, her gaze sweeping over Amelia with thinly veiled disdain. "Oh, you know," she said, her voice laced with mockery. "A commoner who's managed to claw her way into the upper echelons of society. It's positively scandalous, don't you think?"

Amelia's hands clenched into fists at her sides, her nails digging into her palms. She could feel the eyes of the other guests on her, their whispers like daggers in her ears. But she refused to back down, refusing to let Tilly's petty insults get the better of her.

With a steely glint in her eye, Amelia squared her shoulders and met Tilly's gaze head-on. "I may not have been born into nobility," she said, her voice ringing with quiet determination. "But I am every bit as deserving of my title as anyone else in this room. And if that's scandalous, then so be it."

Tilly's smile faltered for a fraction of a second, her eyes widening in surprise. But before she could respond, Alister stepped forward, his expression as cold as ice.

"Lady Tilly," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "I believe you've had quite enough of my wife's time. It's time for you to leave."

Tilly's eyes widened in shock, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. Without another word, she turned on her heel and stalked off into the crowd, her dignity in tatters.

Amelia let out a shaky breath, her heart still pounding in her chest. She turned to Alister, her eyes wide with gratitude. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the din of the ballroom.

Alister's expression softened, his hand coming up to cup her cheek. "Always," he murmured, his thumb brushing gently against her skin.

They stood there for a moment, lost in each other's eyes, the world fading away around them.