In such a patriarchal society, debutante season serves as a somewhat refreshing breath of refined, feminine air; though mothers and sisters alike are beyond burdened with the pressures of preparing their daughters and sisters for high society debut, it is more than worth it when Queen Cecilia gives them blessing upon presentation. A stickler like her mother, Queen Cecilia emphasizes the mystique of a true, womanly nature.

Having neither a sister nor mother, Samuel had never attended debutante events. As the Duke of Crasta, it would be respectable for him to show his face, but for something so oriented around passing over young women into the hands of leering men to be wed, he never saw the appeal. The balls? Lavish, but distasteful. Teas? Not often did they serve things to his palette anyway.

But this season? Lady Belleville debuts into high society on the arm of Earl and older brother Daniel Belleville. There's a certain reluctance in Samuel to even show his face at a debutante event, but to him, he sees it as an ode to the carefully crafted friendship he has maintained with Daniel since their university years. There's also no harm in spending the day dancing with pretty ladies either.

Rubbing a hand over his jaw, Samuel dismounts from his carriage, joining the crowd of suitors and associated family members into the palace, the usual lavished entrance even more flashy with trailing plants of white daisies and marble sculptures. He hasn't stepped foot into the palace in years, and it almost irks him to cross the partition into the building, but he does so anyway.

His eyes sweep over the crowd flooding into the ballroom, though not looking for anybody in particular. Everything's a blur to him— every male is wearing a tailcoat of varying colors, every woman is in a high-waisted gown, and every debutante is highlighted in some variation of a white dress, only differing in the way their face is done and hair is styled.

"Sammy!" Samuel turns to see Daniel approaching him, a casual smile on his friend's face. "Are you lost? This is a debutante ball, you realize."

The two exchange a friendly handshake. Daniel's remark doesn't go over Samuel's head, and all he can afford is an eye roll. He made the conscious decision to show face here, but he himself can't believe it either.

Samuel folds his hands behind his back and straightens up slightly. "I had some time to spare. I figured I'd take a break and watch you chaperone your sister, offer up what support I can." His eyes shift to Daniel's side, lacking the aforementioned sister in a white dress. "Has she already been courted?"

Daniel shakes his head. The mention of his sister seems to shift his expression from jocular to partially distressed. He clears his throat and unconsciously runs his fingers over his tie. "She has not, no. She's practically guaranteed to wed with Queen Cecilia's blessing, but... you know how she is."

He leaves it at that, but Samuel still nods in agreement. Hearing of her debuting into high society in the first place shocked him. It's something he had to see to believe. It's almost a foreign sight to him, seeing her in a white dress, something reserved for debutante occasions only. It's a precious thing that represents that leap from girlhood to womanhood while displaying coveted purity and virginity.

Samuel picks her out of the crowd with no problem. With Queen Cecilia's blessing, she is more than desirable among debutantes. Surrounded by eager suitors and their mothers, she is, no doubt, the belle of the ball.

He navigates through the crowd, offering a charming smile to waving chaperones, some he recognizes as the mothers of his own previous suitors. With a slight shudder, Samuel closes in on her, siren-like in the way the beaus heed every spoken word. Samuel keeps his distance until the time is right to swoop in. Granted, he has no intentions to court her.

Samuel plucks out the card from her grasp. Of course, it seems like a couple hundred boys have already asked for a dance. Samuel only intends to add to the ever-growing list. Scratching his name down, he tucks the card away in his pocket for the time being, ensuring she dances with him.

"Lady Belleville." He greets her with a swift kiss to the back of her hand, his fingers a fleeting touch. "You look as beautiful as ever, might I say, though I never struck you as the type to be a debutante."