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Mathias hovered near the entrance, hunching as much as his tall frame allowed. He had requested no announcement of his very late arrival. Drawing attention was the last thing he wanted. For a moment, he even considered slipping in through the servantsâ door at the side of the hall, but that might have been even more conspicuous. So, when a wave of commotion swelled near the pillars, some incident involving Cassius Damien and another of a toppled couple, Mathias let out a quiet breath and stepped forward, seizing the moment.
One might assume his tardiness was due to military matters, a carriage mishap, or perhaps a diplomatic delay. The truth was far simpler; Lukas was leaving soon, and Mathias wanted to spend every last second with his son. Lord Oliver Larsen intended to begin the boyâs formal education at the end of the summer, and Mathias wished for his son to relax at home a few more weeks before the lesson began. And so, it was decided Lukas and Mary would depart to give the boy more time to relax at home.
Mathias had been so enthralled in the tea party with Lukas, Mary, Mr. Wiggles and Mrs. Morris the Lion that he had entirely forgotten about the banquetâs mandatory attendance. That was, until Mary stumbled across the invitation on the coffee table.
Heâd barely had time to wash up before Mary and Lukas had laid out something for him to wear.
âSomething to impress that lady friend you talked to last time,â Mary had said with a wink.
A black tailcoat and crisp white waistcoat, matched with a starched dress shirt and a proper bowtie. His trousers, dark as the coat, drank in the golden light of the chandeliers above. The only detail approaching luxury was the tiny silver adornments on his collar and the matching cufflinks at his sleeves. If this was meant to dazzle, a quick glance at the peacocks in attendance, decked in velvet and silks and gilded embroidery, made it clear; this was not it.
Which, in truth, suited him just fine.
With a flute of something bubbly in hand, Mathias made a straight line to the dessert table, wholly ignoring the main feast. He found himself wondering again why Varianâs presence had been mandatory tonight. Aside from the secret party, the one where a gaggle of young nobles were found with no memory of the night, nothing else stood out.
Ah. Never mind.
His gaze landed on Roman. Of course.
Mathias had thankfully sidestepped that entire scene. Still, heâd vouch for the man. Roman was decent, perhaps a bit off when it came to certain high-society cues, but Mathis wouldnât judge him for that. Even after years steeped in high society, he himself still fumbled now and then. Little slips, easy enough to patch over with practiced charm.
He picked up a crĂšme brulee, tapped through its caramelized shell with one finger, and dipped in to taste the soft custard beneath. A quiet hum escaped him. All those years of relentless educationâ cramming etiquette, tactics, languages, history, and mathâ had led to this. Not for himself, no. But for Lukas. So that one day, his son could stand in a room like this, chip up, confident. So he could enjoy all of this.
Mathiasâs chest ached with quiet pride as he tilted his gaze toward the grand chandeliers above.
Karla wouldâve loved this. Sheâd be here beside him now, half-eaten chocolate cake in hand, arm looped through his. Whispering outrageous gossip, spinning absurd little stories about the nobles around them. Guessing who was sleeping with whom. Predicting which knight or royal, or noble would cause a scene after one too many drinks.
He let out a sigh, picked up his dessertâalong with another chocolate cakeâ and made his way toward his assigned seat. Lady Thea walked past him, and soon after Lady Ariella at her tail. He glanced over his shoulder to look at both women for a second before finally reaching his seat.
Mathias paused, briefly noting the adjustment. With a glance at the women seated around him, he smiled politely before taking his new seat without a word.
Mathias had a goal tonight: end the night with no drama. Something he had been rather lucky with. He only hoped tonight would be the same.
âGods, these desserts are delicious.â He muttered to himself, lost in the sugary sweetness as he licked his tiny spoon clean.