The Engagement

The Grand Auric Hall, a towering ceremonial structure carved from Celestian marble and inlaid with etherium veins, stood as a testament to old-world nobility and modern refinement. The vast expanse of its polished floors shimmered beneath cascading chandeliers made of crystallized mana, their glow casting a celestial radiance across the intricate gold-and-silver patterns decorating the walls.

Tonight, the hall was alive with grandeur and intrigue.

The elite of the noble houses, both well-known and obscure, had gathered for the highly anticipated engagement between House Drexsic and House Greysteel. Despite the official reason for their attendance, many had come not merely to celebrate but to observe, assess, and scheme. This was a rare event—the first noble inter-house engagement in over several thousand decades.

The noble houses arrived in a spectacle fitting their status, each making a statement with their entrance:

House Belvaris: A house known for its vast influence in arcane commerce, arrived in a sleek, mana-infused helicopter with ethereal blue runes pulsating across its frame. The patriarch, Lord Cyril Belvaris, a shrewd businessman, stepped out first, clad in a deep navy velvet suit, his silver cufflinks inscribed with alchemical sigils. At his side was his heir, Velric Belvaris, a refined young man with swept-back raven-black hair and piercing golden eyes, wearing a three-piece obsidian suit lined with faint arcane inscriptions. His calm demeanor masked a keen, calculating mind.

House Meridan: A house deeply entwined with military and security forces, arrived in armored sedans, their presence exuding discipline and authority. General Kieran Meridan, a broad-shouldered, grizzled man in his decorated military uniform, led his family inside, flanked by his eldest daughter, Lysara Meridan. Lysara, dressed in a sharp white suit with crimson detailing, was known for her strict yet charismatic nature, a woman both respected and feared in noble circles. Her interactions with Velric Belvaris were particularly icy, stemming from an old rivalry between their houses.

House Fontaine: A house of arts and culture, known for their mastery over illusion magic and performance arts, arrived in a vintage-styled, mana-powered limousine with golden embroidery flowing like liquid over its sleek black exterior. Madame Elise Fontaine, an eccentric woman in a flowing midnight blue dress adorned with tiny constellations, stepped out with her eldest son, Caelum Fontaine. Caelum, with wavy auburn hair and sharp emerald eyes, wore an ornate dark green tailcoat, exuding charm and grace. He greeted everyone with a serene, almost playful smile, but those who knew him understood that behind his pleasant demeanor lay a master manipulator of social politics.

House Rothveil: A noble family tied to alchemy and experimental sciences, arrived in a sleek experimental vehicle, its wheels levitating slightly above the ground due to alchemical propulsion. Lord Edgar Rothveil, a tall, gaunt man dressed in a high-collared white coat, observed everything with an air of scientific detachment. His son, Alistair Rothveil, a young man with platinum-blond hair slicked back, adjusted his round, enchanted glasses, studying the others as if they were lab specimens. Alistair's interactions with Velric and Lysara were unusually cordial, as if he were studying how their old rivalry might escalate.

House Drexara: A lesser-known house rumored to be involved in underground dealings, arrived in an unmarked vehicle, its black exterior reflecting no light. Lord Ruvan Drexara, a shadowy figure with ashen-gray hair and mismatched eyes, emerged first, his movements eerily fluid. His daughter, Eirene Drexara, wore a form-fitting, obsidian-black dress with silver chains draped across her shoulders, a fashion statement that toed the line between elegance and defiance. She smirked as she exchanged pleasantries with Caelum Fontaine, their subtle, flirtatious exchanges hinting at something more beneath the surface.

House Greysteel: Finally, the family at the center of tonight's engagement, arrived in a sleek white luxury car lined with silver accents, their entrance regal yet understated. Patriarch Talion Van Greysteel, a man in his late fifties, stepped out first, dressed in a crimson ceremonial robe over a formal black suit. His eldest daughter, Grisha Van Greysteel, walked beside him, her dark blue hair elegantly tied into a braided updo, wearing a dark crimson gown lined with black lace. Her cool, analytical gaze swept over the gathered nobles, taking stock of every interaction, every whispered conversation.

Talion, however, barely acknowledged them. His mind was elsewhere.

—

Talion's gaze flickered to the entrance, waiting for the final guests to arrive—the Drexsic family. He exhaled slowly, rubbing his temples.

Ivor Drexsic had hidden his true intentions well.

Talion knew there had to be more to this engagement than mere alliance-building. House Drexsic did not make moves lightly, and Ivor, in particular, was notorious for playing the long game.

"What could he possibly gain from this?"

The answer was obvious—political power. By forging a bond between their houses, Ivor would gain the backing of House Greysteel, an advantage that could shift the balance of noble power. It was a win-win scenario on the surface, but Talion knew better than to take things at face value.

This union would drag House Greysteel into risky, potentially catastrophic situations.

His thoughts were interrupted by a soft voice.

"Father, are you alright?"

Grisha stood beside him, her expression neutral, but there was a flicker of concern in her sapphire-steel gray eyes.

Talion exhaled, waving a hand dismissively. His gaze swept over the growing sea of nobles, the whispers, the side glances, the carefully measured smiles exchanged between them.

"I'm fine," he replied. "Just surprised by how many people have come to witness this moment."

Grisha hummed thoughtfully, adjusting the delicate black lace gloves on her hands.

"It's not surprising," she remarked. "An engagement between two noble houses hasn't happened in over a thousand years. Of course, they'd all want to see it unfold."

Talion let out a dry chuckle, his gaze flickering toward the ornate ceiling, its golden constellations shifting ever so slightly—a magical feature reflecting the true night sky outside.

"Perhaps," he muttered. "All I truly hope for is that your sister finds happiness, no matter what comes of this arrangement."

For a moment, silence settled between them.

Then, Grisha's lips curled into a small, knowing grin. She tilted her head, amusement flashing in her expression.

"Happiness?" she echoed softly, a trace of irony in her voice. "In this world, father, happiness is a luxury… and love is just another transaction."

She turned her gaze back to the entrance, where the Drexsic entourage was about to arrive.

"Let's see what kind of deal we've truly struck tonight."