The air in the grand estate hummed with the refined cacophony of high society. It was a customary soiree, one of many hosted by the main heir of the prestigious family, and the sprawling residence was a testament to their power. Marble floors gleamed under the light of countless crystal chandeliers, their light catching on the gold leaf of intricate ceiling moldings. Walls lined with dark mahogany bookshelves and heavy velvet drapes framed rooms where laughter and the clinking of champagne flutes echoed. Through the grand archways, guests adorned in silks and jewels glided across ballrooms, their movements as calculated as their conversations. Beauties wielding intricate fans of ivory and lace hid coy smiles behind them, their eyes sparkling as they flirted with wealthy, seasoned gentlemen who swirled amber liquid in crystal glasses.

Through this sea of opulence, Lucille and Vivienne moved as a single, whispering entity. They were a striking pair, navigating the crowd with an air of shared secrecy.

Lucille, a vision of soft elegance, was a cascade of golden silk. Her long, wheat-blonde hair was swept into an intricate style, with a few artful curls framing her face. She wore a gown of pale white satin that whispered around her slender frame with every step, its high waist and delicate lace sleeves accentuating her graceful figure. Beside her, Vivienne was a study in dramatic beauty. Her jet-black curls, piled high and intertwined with a string of pearls, contrasted sharply with her creamy skin. Her dress was a deep emerald red velvet, cut low and trimmed with black lace that highlighted her impeccable posture and cunning eyes.

Their murmured conversation was a private island in the social ocean.

"Look at that décolletage... did she dress like that on purpose?" Lucille asked, fluttering her long, dark lashes and tightening her grip on Vivienne's forearm for emphasis.

Vivienne merely giggled in response, a sly, knowing sound. They expertly ignored the appreciative glances and attempts at conversation from passing counts, offering polite, distant smiles before melting into another part of the room the moment someone showed a genuine interest. Their own eyes, however, were never still, constantly scanning the vast expanse of the room as if searching for a specific landmark.

"I can't figure out where they've gone... We've been circling for ages and it's all in vain... Perhaps they didn't come after all?" Vivienne cooed, sighing dramatically as she used her free hand to wave her ebony fan before her face, her sharp blue eyes scanning the crowd.

Just then, the crowd seemed to part for a fleeting moment, creating a temporary clearing. And there it was. Their target. You stood there, laughing jovially at something said by a young woman who was clinging far too closely for propriety. The woman, a brash blonde with cheeks flushed pink from wine or audacity, had practically molded herself to your side, her chest pressed insistently against your arm. She was pretty in an obvious way, with wide, flirtatious blue eyes and a pouting mouth that was currently curved into a triumphant smirk as she whispered something meant to be witty into your ear.

A simultaneous, silent storm clouded Lucille and Vivienne's features. Their perfectly sculpted brows furrowed in unison, and a low, displeased murmur passed between them. Without a word, they shared a look of perfect understanding and began to move forward with unnerving confidence.

They approached you from either side, smoothly slipping their arms through yours, effectively flanking and claiming their territory.

"My dear... we have been looking for you for so long.." Lucille cooed, letting out a light, musical laugh that was meant to disarm.

"Introduce us to your... companion. Or perhaps don't bother," Vivienne continued, her grip on your forearm tightening possessively as she snapped her fan open with a sharp flick of her wrist. She waved it slowly, her icy gaze fixed intently on the now-uncomfortable blonde, whose smirk had completely vanished.