Chapter 45 - Ball Conflict Part 1

The night of Princess Vivienne's birthday ball was in full swing. Music filled the grand ballroom, a melodious harmony of strings and woodwinds that set a lively yet elegant tone. Guests mingled, danced, and enjoyed the lavish feast that had been prepared, their laughter and chatter a temporary reprieve from the ever-present specter of war. For a moment, Carthage seemed whole again, its unity and strength shining brighter than the looming darkness.

In the servant quarters, Theresa donned a waitress's attire, her preparations for the ball underway. Meanwhile, Madeline clutched a pillow, her gaze fixed on her mother, filled with sadness. "Can I go? Just for a peek?" she begged. Theresa's sharp look silenced Madeline, whose head drooped. Seeing her daughter's dejection, Theresa's expression softened. She approached Madeline, gently patted her head, and said, "I'm so sorry, but you can't be there. Stay in the room and don't leave, no matter what. With so many guests, it's not safe for a child." Madeline softly agreed, "Ok." "I promise to ask Miss Emilia for extra treats for you." A knock interrupted them. Theresa opened the door to find Sarah and Emily. "The party is about to begin; our presence is required," Sarah announced. Emily peeked in and waved at Madeline. "Hi, Madie." Madeline offered a small smile. "Alright, let's go," Theresa said, and the three women departed for the palace hall.

Theresa moved gracefully through the crowd, balancing a silver tray laden with crystal goblets of wine. Her simple uniform blended seamlessly with the other palace staff, but her demeanor carried an air of quiet dignity that belied her station. She had worked tirelessly to ensure the success of this event, from the breathtaking floral arrangements to assisting with the ball itself.

Madeline, being so young, was given a break from her duties. Her mother commanded her to remain in the servants' quarters and strictly forbade her from going anywhere near the nobles.

A group of high-ranking women murmured amongst themselves, their rich gowns rustling softly. The grand ballroom, poised to host the season's most anticipated event, was a spectacle of color and intoxicating fragrance. "The floral arrangements are simply divine," one woman declared, dabbing her lips with a delicate lace handkerchief. "Such artistry! Have you ever witnessed anything quite so breathtaking?"

The others nodded in agreement. "The palace halls, too! Every corridor is a veritable garden. Who is responsible for this floral masterpiece?" Their gazes drifted towards a young maidservant who was quietly attending to the refreshments table. "My dear," one of the women inquired, "do you happen to know who has graced us with such beauty?" gesturing towards the vase of lilies beside her.

The maid's face lit up with a warm smile. "Indeed, I do! It's my dear friend, Theresa. She's a fellow servant, but her talent is extraordinary. I'm so incredibly proud of her." Her voice bubbled with enthusiasm.

"Theresa, you say?" The woman exchanged a look of impressed surprise with the others. "Such skill from a servant! We must commend her." Just then, Sarah spotted Theresa discreetly arranging a vase of lilies near a marble statue. "Theresa!" she called out, her voice ringing with pride. Theresa turned, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of the assembled noblewomen. Sarah approached, and together, she and Theresa offered a deep curtsy to the ladies.

"Ladies," the Sarah began, her hand resting gently on Theresa's arm, "this is Theresa, the artist behind the flowers that have so captivated you." The noblewomen smiled warmly at Theresa. "Theresa," one of them said, her voice filled with genuine appreciation, "your work is truly exceptional. You have a gift. The arrangements are exquisite, a testament to your talent and creativity. The entire palace is abloom thanks to your efforts."

Theresa, her cheeks flushed with pleasure, offered another curtsy. "Thank you, my ladies," she murmured, her voice soft but sincere. "It is my pleasure to serve." "Oh, I wish my own servants were half as talented as you," one of the women sighed, glancing around at the beautiful flowers. "Mine are completely useless. Our house always looks so drab and boring."

Another woman chimed in, "You're so gifted! Maybe you could come and teach our servants a few things? It would be wonderful if you shared your skills. Of course, we'd be happy to pay you for your time." The other women murmured their agreement, clearly taken with the idea. They were all picturing their own homes transformed by Theresa's touch. One even added, "Think how lovely it would be to have fresh flowers like this every day!"

The first woman continued, "Our head gardener tries his best, but the arrangements always look so…flat. Nothing like this! You have such a natural eye for color and design. It's truly remarkable." She gestured towards a particularly stunning arrangement of orchids and lilies. "Just look at those! They're breathtaking."

Another woman, intrigued by the idea of having such beauty in her own home, asked Theresa, "Have you ever considered taking on students? I'm sure many of us would be thrilled to learn from you."

Theresa's eyes widened in surprise at the noblewomen's request. Standing behind her, Sarah gave her a little nudge and raised her eyebrows encouragingly. Whispering softly, Sarah said, "This is a wonderful chance, Theresa! You should definitely consider it." But Theresa gently cut her friend off. "We can't just decide these things for ourselves," she reminded Sarah quietly. "We're palace servants, remember? We have to follow the rules."

Turning to the ladies, Theresa offered a polite but apologetic bow. "I'm so sorry, your ladies," she said, her voice respectful. "This is a great honor, and I'm very grateful for your kind words. However, I'm just a palace servant. If you wish to make such an arrangement, you will need to speak with the King. He's the one who makes those decisions." She explained that she simply didn't have the authority to accept such an offer on her own. It wasn't her place to decide. She then gave another small bow and, with a gentle smile, excused herself to attend to the other guests, who were beginning to arrive for the ball.

As Theresa made her way through the ballroom, her path crossed with that of Lord Belvane, a high-ranking noble known for his extravagant lifestyle and less-than-honorable reputation. Belvane was a man of middle age, with a broad frame and an air of entitlement that often-made others tread carefully around him. His penchant for indulgence was no secret, and his reputation as a womanizer had earned him both scorn and wary respect among the court.

When his gaze landed on Theresa, he paused, a wolfish grin spreading across his face. Her understated beauty and graceful movements caught his attention instantly. Setting his goblet aside, he intercepted her path, feigning politeness as he reached for a glass from her tray.

"You there," he said, his voice dripping with feigned charm. "You're the one responsible for these marvelous flowers, aren't you? Such exquisite taste deserves recognition." Theresa hesitated, sensing the underlying tone of his words. "Yes, my lord. It was my honor to assist Princess Vivienne with the arrangements."

Belvane's grin widened. "You've done a splendid job. Tell me, what's your name?"

"Theresa, my lord."

"Theresa," he repeated, savoring the sound. "A lovely name for a lovely woman. You must allow me to express my gratitude properly. Perhaps we could have a word in private?"

Alarm bells rang in Theresa's mind, but she maintained her composure. "I'm afraid I have duties to attend to, my lord. The guests must be served." "Surely, a moment wouldn't hurt," he insisted, stepping closer. His tone carried a dangerous edge now, and the glint in his eyes made Theresa's stomach turn. "Come, it's a rare privilege to converse with someone as captivating as you."

Theresa's instincts screamed at her to refuse, but she knew a public scene would only draw unwanted attention. Reluctantly, she nodded. "As you wish, my lord." Belvane's grin deepened, and he gestured for her to follow him. They slipped out of the ballroom, weaving through the palace corridors until they reached a small, dimly lit chamber. The moment they were alone, Belvane's demeanor changed. His polite façade dropped, replaced by a predatory hunger that sent a chill down Theresa's spine.

"Now, my dear," he began, stepping uncomfortably close. "Let us dispense with formalities. You're a remarkable woman, Theresa. Surely, you must know how to please a man of my stature." Theresa's heart pounded in her chest, but she stood her ground. "My lord, I am here to serve, but not in the way you imply. Please, let me return to my duties."

Belvane's expression darkened, his hand shooting out to grip her wrist. "Don't play coy with me. I could make life very difficult for you. Or very rewarding, if you're agreeable." Theresa's resolve hardened. "Let me go," she said firmly, her voice steady despite the fear coursing through her.

When he didn't relent, Theresa acted. With a swift motion, she twisted her wrist free and shoved him back, her strength fueled by adrenaline. Belvane stumbled, shock flashing across his face before it twisted into fury.

"You dare lay hands on me?" he snarled. "Do you know who I am?".

Belvane lunged at Theresa, trying to grab her around the waist and force her against the wall. She twisted and struggled, trying to yell for help, but he clamped his mouth down on hers in a sudden, harsh kiss. Theresa felt a wave of disgust wash over her. Her stomach churned, and her head began to spin. She felt dizzy and disoriented. Panicked, she tried to push him away with all her might, but he was too strong. She couldn't break free.

After a brief struggle, Theresa saw her chance. She stomped down hard on his foot with all her weight. Belvane cried out in pain, clutching his injured foot. But Theresa wasn't finished. Still desperate to escape, she grabbed a nearby vase and, without hesitation, smashed it over his head. Belvane staggered back, dazed.

His bad luck didn't end there. The water from the broken vase had spilled onto the floor, making it slippery. As Belvane tried to regain his balance, his feet went out from under him. He reached for a nearby table to steady himself, but instead, he knocked over several more vases that were sitting on it. They crashed to the floor, shattering into countless pieces, many of them jagged and sharp.