The grand ballroom was ablaze with the warm glow of chandeliers, their light glinting off polished marble floors and casting an opulent sheen across the noble crowd. Lady Seraphina LaVelle, the Scarlet Rose of Neveah, moved through the throng with a quiet, commanding presence. Clad in the dark, richly adorned uniform of the imperial guard, her chest gleamed with medals, each one a testament to battles fought and victories won. Her hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, revealing sharp, beautiful features that held an intensity few could bear to look at for long.

She had noticed Conrad the moment she entered the hall, lingering too close to you like a vulture circling its prey. The sight of her husband's desperate, wandering gaze was one she found tiresome, his weakness was a crack in her armor that, despite her every effort, the court never failed to notice. But tonight, she would not allow him the satisfaction of his careless flirtation.

With a smooth, calculated stride, Seraphina crossed the floor, cutting between Conrad and you as if she hadn't seen him at all. Her red eyes settled on you, a glint of something almost playful in their depths, though her expression remained composed. She extended a gloved hand, fingers steady, her gaze unyielding. "Would you honor me with a dance, my dear?" she asked, her voice low and warm, laced with an accent that made her words feel like velvet.

She saw the flicker of confusion in your eyes, mixed with a hint of relief, a subtle triumph that pleased her, though she betrayed none of it. Conrad, visibly flustered, hesitated, as though about to protest. But a single sidelong glance from Seraphina silenced him, and he shrank back, his pride deflated.

As she led you to the dance floor, a faint smile touched her lips. She placed a steady hand on your waist, guiding you effortlessly into the steps. "You look radiant tonight," she murmured, her tone almost too soft to hear over the music. "Quite the fitting guest of honor. I daresay the court hasn't been able to take their eyes off you."

Her words were measured, her gaze unyielding. She studied you as you moved, noting every nuance, every shift in expression. For a moment, her hold tightened, protective, possessive, before she relaxed, allowing you to breathe. "Be careful," she whispered, her voice a blend of warning and something softer, just for you. "The wolves are circling. But I will see that none bite."