Althea froze for a brief second. She hadn’t expected to be called out so suddenly. Her fingers tightened slightly on the fabric of her dress, though her face remained calm.
The whispers began again.
“What could she possibly perform?” soone whispered.
“She’s Cain’s daughter, not a court lady and I heard she never leaves the pack too nor learn a thing. They say she’s the favorite but the good for nothing daughter.”
“You’re wrong. She has magical abilities. And she already proven herself even saving many of our own. I’m sure she has more to show...”
“That’s different from showing a talent in events like this though. Lady Ava trained for years under the royal tutor. Lady Althea can’t compare. Or is she planning to perform a magical abilities for entertainnt?”
“Her only advantage is her looks and that she’s the Alpha King’s mate.”
Whispers and so thoughts echoed even louder in Althea’s mind as she accidentally brushed against the surface emotions of those around her. Their envy, mockery, and curiosity rippled through her like a cold breeze.
Gavriel, seated beside her, noticed the slight shift in her expression. His hand brushed hers, a silent reassurance that she didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to. He opened his mouth to speak but Althea slowly rose to her feet.
Every eye followed her as she stepped away from the seat, her gown trailing behind her like rippling shadow and gold. She turned to face Lord Marius and Minister Ariel, her posture straight but unforced.
Her voice, when she spoke, was calm and clear. “It would be an honor,” she said softly, “to offer sothing for Lord Marius’s birthday. I only hope my humble effort will be enough.”
Ava’s smirk faltered, just a little.
Whatever Althea planned to do next, the hall waited in tense silence, no one daring to look away.
And Gavriel, his expression unreadable, leaned back in his seat, watching her with a faint trace of pride in his eyes.
Althea turned slightly toward Gavriel. Their eyes t, and she gave him a small, reassuring smile. He didn’t say a word, but the warmth in his gaze told her everything... he trusted her completely.
Then she walked toward the center of the banquet hall. The crowd fell silent again, curious and uncertain about what she was going to do. The musicians looked at one another, unsure whether to play.
The eyes of every noble, every warrior, and every court lady in the hall were now fixed on her.
She still could hear the whispers start to spread like wildfire.
“What could she possibly perform?”
“She’s pretty, I’ll give her that—but beauty can’t hide a lack of grace.”
“Maybe she’ll try to charm the ministers the way she chard the Alpha King.”
Althea lowered her gaze for a mont, steadying her breath. Her palms were cold. Even after everything she had endured, she still wasn’t used to standing in front of so many judging eyes.
[Don’t let them get in your head,] Gavriel’s voice ca quietly through the mindlink. It was deep, calm, and firm. [Just breathe, Althea. You have nothing to prove to them.]
Althea smiled faintly at Gavriel, then she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
Her mother’s voice echoed faintly in her mory—soft, steady, and full of love. “When words fail, let the elents speak for you.”
This was not a dance of the court. It was one she had learned long ago, deep in the wilderness where her mother used to teach her. A sacred movent passed through generations, both graceful and dangerous. It was called the “Ethereal Blade Dance.”
Slowly, Althea lifted her hand. The air stirred.
A faint glimr appeared beside her, then another. Shapes began to form out of nothing: translucent blades of light, each one shimring with a different elent.
A blade of wind that whirled like a gust. A blade of fla that flickered gently. Another of water, rippling as if alive. Then one of ice, gleaming like crystal under the chandeliers.
A collective gasp swept across the hall.
She began to move, each step flowing into the next with quiet precision. Her arms traced arcs through the air, and the elental swords followed, spinning and dancing around her.
The movents were not just graceful, they carried purpose, like a warrior’s ritual turned into art.
The air in the hall changed...
Then, at the edge of the room, the grand doors opened quietly. Two figures entered... Candice and Osman. They had co late, expecting to see the usual polite festivities. But what they walked into left them speechless.
Candice froze. Her eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. “The Ethereal Blade Dance...” she whispered, her voice trembling. “That’s the Dance of the Forgotten Spirits.”
Without thinking, she moved closer, right to the group of musicians. The drumrs looked at her uncertainly, but she didn’t wait. She picked up one of the small hand drums and struck it in rhythm to Althea’s steps.
Thum. Thum-thum. Thum.
The steady beat echoed, pulling everyone deeper into the rhythm. The strings followed next, adding soft, haunting notes.
With each beat, the magic around Althea pulsed stronger. The wind blades swirled faster, the water blade glimred like liquid moonlight, and the fla blade curved through the air like a living ribbon. The ice blade left faint trails of frost that shimred briefly before vanishing.
She moved with perfect control, her expression serene, completely lost in the flow of it. Every motion was fluid, yet carried a strength that made even the most seasoned warriors stare in awe.
Ava watched from her seat, her nails digging into her palm. The applause she had received earlier already felt aningless. All eyes were on Althea now. Even the Queen Mother, who had sat in composed silence throughout the evening, leaned slightly forward, her expression unreadable but clearly intrigued.
The final sequence ca. Althea spun, and the elental blades followed, crossing paths in midair and rging into a single glowing sword made of all four elents. She caught it mid-spin, raised it high, and then lowered it gracefully before it dissolved into sparks that faded like falling stars.
The music ended.
Silence filled the hall.
Then—applause erupted.
It wasn’t the polite clapping nobles gave to flatter. It was genuine, filled with awe and surprise.
Candice was still standing by the musicians, her eyes shining as she looked at Althea with a kind of wonder. “That dance...” she whispered again, shaking her head in disbelief. “Only spirit-bound priestesses ever knew it. How in the world does she—”
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