Charity Gala I

Two Nights Earlier – The North England Charity Gala, Whitethorne Manor

The smell of expensive perfume mixed with the sharp scent of polished marble. Crystal glasses clinked together like tiny bells. Soft music floated through the air, but it could barely cover the sound of conversations from the nobles present.

Gideon Blackwater stood near the center of the grand ballroom. His black suit fit him like it was made by angels. Silver buttons caught the light from the massive chandelier above. When he smiled, people smiled back. When he frowned, they looked away.

He was not just rich. He was power itself.

"Lord Everleigh," Gideon said as a fat man walked over. The man's face was red from too much wine. Sweat beaded on his forehead despite the cool air. "Should I call you Chancellor now?"

Everleigh laughed too loud. "Don't say that yet. The vote is still weeks away."