Annette stood in front of the mirror, watching as the maid dressed her. The ball was tonight, and she couldn't be more irritated. Not only would she be forced to be in the presence of the Viscount, but the rest of the council members too. Dear gods, she hated this so much.
Staring at the dress, she could swear the housekeeper planned to kill her. The waist was snatched far too tight, to the point that it affected her breathing. By the end of the ball, she would have passed away from lack of air.
The dress was beautiful, though—emerald green with white pearls scattered across it, the bodice hugging her frame perfectly.
Another issue she had with the dress was the low neckline. Nearly half of her breasts were visible. Even the maids eyed her suspiciously at the sight of it.
Annette did not plan on walking into a room full of strangers with her breasts pouring out. She would request a veil.
Drawing in a deep breath, she turned slightly to Grace. "I would be needing a veil."
Grace's face remained tight. "What for? The weather is slightly warm. I see no need for one."
"I do not feel comfortable with half my chest out for everyone to see. I do not wish to be the gossip tonight," Annette replied.
A moment of silence passed before Grace spoke. "Get her a white veil."
One of the maids walked out of the room and returned shortly with the veil.
Annette moved to the dresser, sitting still as her hair and makeup were done. Her hair was held up in a loose bun, with a few strands falling effortlessly to frame her face. It looked good, so she couldn't complain.
After two hours of being moved around like a doll, she was finally fully dressed for the ball. Annette draped the veil over her shoulders—enough to cover her cleavage and still look good. The housekeeper and maids left the room, leaving her to go downstairs by herself.
After a few minutes, she was out of her chambers and making her way down the stairs. As she reached the foot of the stairs, she expected to see the Viscount, but he was nowhere in sight.
Sighing, she proceeded to make her way out of the mansion, hoping to see him then—and fortunately for her, the Viscount was there speaking with Gabriel, who was the first to notice her.
Vincent noticed this and followed his line of sight to where she stood. He narrowed his eyes at her, and she smiled at them, one they didn't bother to return. Gabriel whispered something to the Viscount before walking past her without saying a word to her.
Rude! Annette gritted her teeth.
"The carriage is already here. Let's go." Vincent's voice pulled her from her thoughts. She watched him give her a once-over before turning his back on her.
Her mouth fell open. This insufferable man! Completely foolish!
Her fists clenched as she walked toward the carriage with Vincent in front of her. He stretched out his hand for her to hold, but Annette helped herself into the carriage, ignoring his outstretched hand.
The Viscount only smiled before joining her. Shortly after, the carriage jerked and rolled into motion. Neither of them said a word during the thirty-minute ride to their destination.
The carriage came to a halt in front of a glamorous building. It was like a castle—a magnificent one. Huge lanterns lined the walls, illuminating the darkness brightly.
The front yard was filled with carriages of different sizes and nobles milling about. The Viscount politely held his hand out to her, but Annette refused his gesture again, climbing down by herself.
From her peripheral vision, she noticed his smile. Irritated, Annette whipped her head in his direction. "Would you mind sharing what's causing you to smile so much?" she said through gritted teeth.
The Viscount's smile only broadened. "Oh, it's nothing of importance. Let's go inside," he said, turning away from her and making his way to the entrance.
Annette trailed behind him. She couldn't help but notice how he towered over most of the people around him, his presence so strong that he caught the attention of the crowd. She could see the women whispering amongst themselves, while the men either held admiration or disdain for him.
Inside, the ballroom was even more magnificent, bright and colorful, with soft instruments playing at one side and a table covered with different foods lined up along the other.
The nobles, as usual, were all dressed exquisitely, with none of them wearing a veil—which was rather unfortunate for Annette. She couldn't bring herself to remove hers, even though she already felt the prying eyes of both men and women on her.
She clung to the Viscount, following him around like a lost puppy. When she noticed the elderly man and woman ahead, she wanted to separate herself from him, but it was too late. They were already only a few steps away, staring directly at her. It would be too obvious to turn around now.
Instead, Annette drew in a deep breath and prepared for the conversation ahead. She mustered the most polite smile she could manage.
The man, whom she assumed was the Viscount's father from the striking resemblance, was dressed in a burgundy coat and trousers. He stood stiff and well-polished, his hair cut short to his scalp, his lips pressed into a thin line.
The woman beside him wore a red dress with short sleeves. Her black hair, streaked with strands of white, was pulled into a tight bun. Her thin lips stretched into a restrained smile.
Annette could almost feel the tension between the three of them.
"Vincent! It's so lovely to have you here. Your father and I were just speaking about you," Selena said in a high-pitched voice.
"Wonderful. Where are the others?" Vincent asked, his eyes fixed on his father.
"Somewhere. I do not keep watch over them," Tarlath replied coolly, his gaze shifting to Annette, who had been completely ignored until now. "Is this your mistress?"
"This is Annette. Annette, this is Counselor Tarlath and his mistress, Selena," Vincent said, gesturing toward them.
Annette blinked twice. "It is a pleasure to meet you both," she replied softly.
The fact that the Viscount had called her by her real name did not go unnoticed. This damned fool had been playing with her all along, behaving as though he couldn't bring himself to say her name.
"Annette," Tarlath called, as though tasting the name on his tongue. "Tell me, where are you from?"
Annette opened her mouth, ready to lie through her teeth, but Vincent beat her to it.
"You don't need to know that. Annette is strictly my business, and as you know, I don't like others prying into my affairs," he replied, locking eyes with Tarlath for a second too long.
"You are right. I was merely curious," Tarlath responded coolly.
"Keep your curiosity to yourself, old man."
A jaw tightened, it wasn't hard to tell that the Viscount's words had struck a nerve. Vincent smiled at his father's reaction.
He was enjoying this, Annette thought to herself.
"Excuse us. We shall take our time looking around." Vincent offered a slight bow, then grabbed Annette by the hand and walked away.