Peerage Ball

The Peerage Ball invitation had requested Will arrive early at the duke's estate, to be hidden away until the event began. This ball marked his official debut as a noble. Almost every new noble was honored with a Peerage Ball, and the rank of the host reflected the prestige of the occasion. Historically, for the king to bestow a noble title without a ball in one's honor was considered an embarrassment. Having a duke and duchess host Will's Peerage Ball was the highest honor a newly ennobled individual could receive.

However, Will suspected—along with many other nobles—that this was also an attempt to push him toward marrying Elizabeth. Traveling to Yorkshire together, the Peerage Ball, and the arranged date all seemed to be carefully orchestrated efforts to persuade him into courting the duke's daughter.

Ordinarily, a baronet would not be permitted to marry the daughter of a duke. However, most nobles expected Will's status to rise. Investing in him now would surely yield benefits for the duke in the future. There was also the matter of Elizabeth's unfavorable countenance and unladylike behavior. Unbeknownst to either Will or Elizabeth, even the king hoped for this match. For him, having Will marry his youngest niece would, hopefully, secure the baronet's loyalty to Fermion.

Yet, no one had thought to ask Will or Elizabeth how they felt about the arrangement.

The two had met many times since their initial encounter at Anne's family's former bakery.

Upstairs, the duchess sat smiling as her ladies-in-waiting styled her hair. She gazed into the vanity mirror, silently wondering how her matchmaking scheme was progressing.

'Will is shrewd and avaricious; Elizabeth is intrusive and untrusting,' the duchess mused. The only trait they seemed to share was their reserved nature. Around company, both were polite and conversational, yet preferred to keep to themselves.

As a mother, the duchess was always concerned for her children. Her two eldest daughters had been born socialites, taking after their father. But her youngest, Elizabeth, was introverted, keeping people at a distance.

When Elizabeth was younger, she had been engaged to an earl's son. Yet, upon meeting him, she belittled the young man to the point of tears. After that, every gentleman she encountered quickly sought to end any engagement before it even began.

Among noble circles, Elizabeth was a pariah—a woman far ahead of her time, outspoken when most women were taught to be demure and soft-spoken.

However, when she returned from Death Valley and recounted Will's heroics, the duchess had detected something unexpected: admiration. Perhaps even infatuation. As Elizabeth had hugged her that day, the duchess had grinned in silent satisfaction. After that conversation, she had immediately requested her husband reach out to James vont Ballard to arrange a date.

While the duchess mused upstairs, Will waited in a guest room inside the duke's manor.

Although, to call it a "manor" felt inaccurate. A small castle was a more fitting description. Most manors lacked defensive walls; however, the duke's residence had more in common with a fortified keep. The message was clear—royal blood was to be protected.

The estate was just as immaculate as the king's castle. The guest room where Will was hidden was adorned with red fleur-de-lis on blue tapestries along all four walls. The canopy bed, with its gilded posts, was grander than anything found in Will's entire home.

Just outside the door, shrill laughter echoed through the hallway.

Will opened the door slightly and peeked outside.

Elizabeth's sisters, Emma and Emilia, were smirking as they taunted their sibling.

"Elizabeth, I wonder how many scoldings Mama and Papa will give you after tonight?" Emilia teased.

"Perhaps our guest of honor will be the next to cry?" Emma chuckled.

"I can't recall the last time someone didn't leave in tears at one of our events," Emilia added, laughing more forcefully.

"Remember the last soirée? When the viscount pretended to fall ill just to leave gracefully?" Emma held her ribs as she cackled.

"Oh! And the garden party—" Emilia giggled behind her hand.

Will stepped fully into the hall, drawing their attention.

"Greetings, noble Lord of Games, Baronet vont Ballard," Emma immediately curtsied, her smirk never faltering.

"Forgive us, Sir vont Ballard, we were merely reminiscing," Emilia added quickly.

"Indeed, my older brother also enjoys reminiscing at my expense," Will replied, unfazed.

"It seems we have much in common," Elizabeth commented dryly as her sisters giggled.

"Yes, how is your brother Marcus? We've heard stories of his bravery," Emma asked, feigning interest.

"Is your brother Marcus the rake?" Elizabeth deadpanned.

Will raised an eyebrow at Elizabeth's bluntness. He was well aware of his brother's reputation. If Marcus were the protagonist of a story, it would undoubtedly be a harem novel.

"Elizabeth, it's unkind to demean a nobleman's brother," Emilia reprimanded.

"Tis fine," Will said easily. "My brother is well-known in certain circles," he added, choosing his words diplomatically.

Hearing that, both Emma and Emilia quickly curtsied and left, recognizing that the topic was not appropriate for noblewomen of chaste reputation. Elizabeth should have also excused herself, yet she remained behind.

"I'm used to my sisters making fun of me. I didn't need your support," Elizabeth said, crossing her arms.

"You spoke the truth, and I agreed. What is there to be upset about?" Will asked indifferently.

"You admitted your brother is known for consorting with courtesans and noblewomen alike! I thought you were better trained in etiquette," Elizabeth scolded.

"I simply agreed with your premise. Would it have been more chivalric to lie? I am not embarrassed by my brother's ways. I love him. Others mentioning his faults does not change that," Will stated firmly.

"I meant no harm, but if you do that downstairs, other nobles will think poorly of you," Elizabeth warned.

"Do you care what others think of you?" Will questioned.

"Gods, no!" Elizabeth scoffed.

"Then why should I?" Will countered.

"Because I am the daughter of a duke and niece to the king! You are merely a poor rural baron's third son who lucked into success!" Elizabeth exclaimed.

"And your point is...?" Will prompted.

"You don't even deny it?" Elizabeth asked, incredulous. "Certainly, you must feel some resentment toward my words."

"Lady Elizabeth, once again, you have spoken the truth. Why would I refute it?" Will replied, unbothered.

Elizabeth stared at him, her frustration shifting into curiosity.

"Surely you realize how exceptional you are. Who else could achieve so much with so little? Most second sons become merchants, adventurers, or priests. Yet you, a rural baron's third son, own six successful businesses, have the same tutor as the king, hold the favor of the Church of Gaia, and ranked first in the Knight Academy. Can't you see that your accomplishments make you extraordinary?" she pressed.

"Lady Elizabeth, I agree with you once again. Regardless of what others say or believe about me, I have confidence in myself," Will responded with conviction.

Unbeknownst to them, one of the duchess' maids had been eavesdropping. As soon as their conversation ended, she scurried away to inform her mistress.

Upon hearing the report, the duchess' smile grew wider, her eyes glinting mischievously. She promptly dismissed the maid and sent her on an important errand—to Elizabeth's room.

A few hours later, a knock sounded at Will's door.

Dressed in a black suit, ruffled blouse, silver vest, and ascot, Will opened it. His baronet sash swayed as the door creaked.

Elizabeth stood outside, her maid at her side. She wore a blue and silver gown, her chestnut hair styled into an intricate bun adorned with a sparkling tiara. Black heels added a few centimeters to her height. The deep blue fabric accentuated her striking eyes, and her flawless complexion was enhanced by subtle makeup.

The moment Will saw her, he thought she looked angelic.

Elizabeth knew her mother had sent her maid to spy. To avoid another lecture, she resolved to play along tonight.

"Lord of Games, Sir William vont Ballard," she curtsied. "My father has asked that I escort you downstairs for your noble introduction."

"You look beautiful," Will blurted before immediately correcting himself. "Lady Elizabeth, thank you for treating me so kindly."

Elizabeth blushed. "You're welcome."

As they locked elbows and descended the staircase, the duchess watched from above, her smile growing ever wider.