Chapter 9.5: Side Chapter
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## **Side Chapter: The Villainess' Guide to Surviving a Royal Ball (and Making Everyone Regret Attending)**
If Seraphina de Alvere had one weakness, it was not love, nor poison, nor even the slow grind of fate. It was—undeniably, tragically—**boredom**.
And nothing bored her more than a **Royal Ball**.
Still, appearances had to be kept, and masks worn, and petty nobles emotionally eviscerated beneath crystal chandeliers.
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### Rule One: Dress to Kill (Not Literally. Yet.)
Her dress was midnight blue velvet, embroidered with golden serpents winding up the bodice. A statement. Subtle as a guillotine.
"I was going to wear pastel," she told her maid dryly, "but then I remembered I hate lying."
Add to that a sapphire choker shaped like a crescent moon—rumored to be enchanted to sense betrayal (or indigestion; hard to say)—and Seraphina was ready to be admired, feared, and furiously whispered about.
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### Rule Two: Choose a Petty Target. But Make It Fashion.
Upon entering the ballroom, she immediately spotted **Baroness Eloise**, who once "accidentally" spilled wine on Seraphina's letters of estate renewal.
Eloise wore ruffles. Ruffles. And a tiara made entirely of *glass daisies*.
Seraphina floated over like a silk-clad wraith. "Baroness," she cooed sweetly, "how daring of you to accessorize with... flora."
The baroness blinked. "Why—thank you."
"Oh, I wasn't complimenting you. I meant it takes courage to wear something that makes one resemble a dessert table centerpiece."
The baroness nearly choked on her pride. Two duchesses nearby snorted into their fans.
**Point: Seraphina.**
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### Rule Three: Dance Like You Know the Steps. Or Invent Better Ones.
The orchestra swelled. Partners were chosen.
Seraphina, of course, stood alone—until **Sir Gideon Marsh**, a pompous knight with delusions of charm, offered his hand.
"May I have the honor?" he asked.
"You may borrow it," Seraphina replied. "Just bring it back unscathed."
He looked confused. By the time he processed the quip, she had already twirled them both onto the floor in a waltz that was equal parts grace and menace.
Halfway through, he stepped on her foot.
She smiled like frost. "One more mistake, and I shall choreograph your funeral."
Gideon danced with stunning precision after that.
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### Rule Four: Interrogate No Fewer Than Three People.
"Lady Corvina," Seraphina said sweetly, linking arms with the youngest heiress of House Varn. "Did you know your fiancé spends Tuesday afternoons gambling at the Scarlet Thorn?"
Corvina paled. "Wh—what?"
"Oh, don't worry," Seraphina added, patting her hand. "He usually loses."
Later, she found a Lord suspiciously close to the wine table and casually murmured, "Does the Duke know you're funding his bastard son's academy tuition?"
The man turned the color of curdled milk.
"You're welcome," Seraphina said, gliding off before the scandal could explode. "Consider it social spring cleaning."
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### Rule Five: Cause a Scene (But Not the One They Expect)
As the evening waned and dancers grew weary, Seraphina stood at the grand balcony overlooking the gardens. She knew eyes were on her.
So she let a single, slow sigh escape.
Just loud enough.
Just sad enough.
It wasn't acting—it wasn't *entirely* acting, anyway.
Someone whispered, "She's mourning something, you know."
"Who?" another asked.
"Perhaps… someone she lost. Or someone she *will*."
Ah, gossip—the true heartbeat of court.
Seraphina smiled to herself.
Let them think she had a tragic past. Let them think her heart was buried under six layers of cynicism and corsetry.
They would never see the truth coming.
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### Bonus Rule: Always Leave Them Wanting
She departed the ball precisely at the twelfth chime—not because of superstition, but because leaving too early looked rude, and staying too long looked desperate.
On the way out, she passed by **Adrien Valcorne**, leaning against a marble pillar, looking far too amused.
"You terrorized a ballroom," he said.
"Correction," she replied, "I curated an evening."
He bowed low. "Remind me never to invite you to a picnic."
"Oh no," she said airily, stepping past him, "do invite me. I pack excellent shade."
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## End of Side Chapter