Shadows in the Ballroom

The grand ballroom of the Whitmore estate was alight with golden chandeliers, their glow reflecting off the polished marble floors. Elegant couples swayed to the waltz performed by a small orchestra, their laughter and hushed whispers mingling with the melody. But Evelyn felt none of the evening's magic.

Instead, she stood near the edge of the ballroom, gripping a glass of champagne, her mind spinning with Theo's words. You were not meant to arrive in this time. The revelation had lodged itself deep in her thoughts, filling her with both fear and an urgent need for answers.

A familiar presence loomed beside her. "You look troubled."

She turned to see Theo, dressed in a dark suit that made him appear even more enigmatic. His piercing blue eyes held an unreadable expression as he studied her.

"How can I not be?" she whispered, careful not to draw attention. "You tell me I don't belong here, that people will do anything to 'restore order,' and now I'm supposed to dance and drink champagne as if none of this is happening?"

Theo's lips quirked up in a faint, humorless smile. "Pretending is a skill you'll need to learn quickly. This world is built on illusions, Evelyn."

She let out a frustrated sigh, but before she could press him further, a man approached them. He was older, with a slicked-back mane of graying hair and a sharp gaze that assessed Evelyn with thinly veiled curiosity.

"Lord Whitmore," the man greeted Theo smoothly. "And this must be your mysterious guest."

Theo's posture stiffened. "Lord Davenport."

Evelyn forced a polite smile, though unease curled in her stomach. There was something unnerving about Lord Davenport, the way his eyes lingered on her just a moment too long.

"What an enchanting young lady," Davenport said, reaching for her hand. "It is rare to see a fresh face at such gatherings."

Evelyn hesitated but allowed him to brush a kiss over her gloved fingers. She felt Theo's muscles tense beside her.

"Miss Evelyn is under my protection," Theo said evenly, his voice carrying an unmistakable warning.

Davenport chuckled. "Oh, I don't doubt that for a moment." He took a sip from his glass, eyes twinkling with amusement. "But tell me, dear girl, where do you come from?"

Evelyn swallowed hard. For a brief second, she considered telling the truth. But one glance at Theo's guarded expression told her that would be a grave mistake.

She smiled instead, carefully masking her unease. "Now, Lord Davenport, where's the fun in revealing all of one's secrets so soon?"

His lips curled in amusement. "Ah, a woman of mystery. How delightful."

As he sauntered away, Evelyn exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. She turned to Theo. "That man knows something, doesn't he?"

Theo's expression was grim. "He suspects. And suspicion is dangerous."

The waltz continued around them, but Evelyn could feel the undercurrent of something darker. She wasn't just a guest at this ball—she was a player in a dangerous game. And she had no idea who she could truly trust.