Chapter Text
Of all the balls that you had attended, this was by far the most glamorous, and the dullest. And the worst thing was, your champagne glass was empty.
You picked at your dull gown, which maintained a respectable air of elegance despite the fact that it was clearly secondhand and had been mended several times, and held in a sigh. Not that anyone was looking at you, sitting on a stuffed couch with the rest of the ladies who, like you, weren’t fortunate enough to have a dance partner.
All eyes were on the amber-colored dance floor, where young men and women dressed in sleek black tuxedos and pastel ruffles respectively were twirling around in each other’s arms under a glittering chandelier. The smiles and blushes on the faces of the dancers were a stark contrast to the scheming mothers and fathers watching them like hawks from the side, frequently whispering to each other. Your own mother was no exception, of course.
You caught the eye of your younger sister, who looked about to burst out of her skin from nervousness as she danced with a nice-looking young man, the son of a viscount if you remembered correctly. You heard your mother clucking her tongue next to you, most likely wishing that your sister looked more like a lovestruck maiden. You, on the other hand, were happy for her for not stumbling over her feet, since you knew how hard she practiced all week in order to dance without embarrassing herself at her first ball.
Her partner, seeming to have noticed her tension, whispered what seemed to be words of comfort into her ear, for she blushed and smiled just a bit. He seemed like a considerate young man. Perhaps your mother wouldn’t leave this ball disappointed after all.
Speaking of disappointments…you felt your mother give you a sidelong glare for the third time in the past hour. You held back a sigh.
Truth be told, you didn’t know why your mother still brought you to these things, despite the fact that you were “past your prime,” so to speak. Not that you were much in demand even when you were in your prime. Blessed—or cursed—with an unremarkable face and a curt, reticent personality, it was as though the gods had marked you for the fate of spinsterhood since birth (you had tried to explain this to your mother, but the scolding she gave you had dragged on for so long that you didn't bring it up again). Your debut in society had made little fanfare and you had sunk into invisibility by the end of the year.
Of course, you couldn’t begrudge your mother for her frustration. Your father was a baron, the lowest noble rank, and your family was firmly in the ranks of the “impoverished gentility,” on the verge of falling below that if they didn’t marry into greater wealth. You were the oldest child and had no brothers. The hopes for a successful marriage match now rested on the slim shoulders of your sister, who had just come of age this year. Her dress was newly ordered for her–your parents had spared no expense.
You sincerely hoped that this young man would take a liking to your sister (how could he not?), not just for the sake of the family’s future, but also for your sister’s mental wellbeing. She was sunshine itself, but also prone to bouts of insecurity and nerves that took not a little effort to coax her out of.
The music showed no signs of winding down. It seemed that this dance would go on for some time yet. By the time you were on the receiving end of your fourth glare in an hour, you finally decided to excuse yourself and go out into the spacious gardens.
You would have much preferred going to the library and finding an interesting biography or novel to read, but alas, it was improper to wander the estate of a stranger without telling the host first. But the fresh air and different scenery were a much-needed distraction from the hissed conversations around you and icy glares from your mother.
It was late in the evening, so you couldn’t appreciate the gardens in their full glory, but even in the faint moonlight and dull glow of the orange lamps, you could tell that the gardens were magnificent. They were elegantly arranged, with dainty flowers and stately trees lining stone paths and pale marble statues of women in flowing dresses standing like silent guards. There were other people scattered around in the gardens as well, mainly couples who wanted some privacy away from the ballroom.
You spotted a large arched trellis to your right. It was covered in white roses and seemed to lead to some distant part of the gardens. It reminded you of the portals to fairyland in the fairy tale books you've read. The thought brought a small smile to your face, and not a little bit of guilt for thinking of such childish things when you should really be more concerned about your prospects. I'm allowed a little bit of whimsy, aren't I? You told yourself.
You walked through the arch, following the path. Once you emerged on the other end, the air almost seemed to smell sweeter and the moonlight brighter. Maybe it was because you could no longer hear the music. This seemed to be the part of the garden where the roses were planted, as you could make out their distinctive shapes around you in the darkness. There were fewer lamps here and no presence of people, but you could still see the mansion in the distance, so it should still be okay to be all the way out here, right? At least, that was what you told yourself.
As you proceeded down the path, you gradually heard the sound of burbling water. Its source was soon revealed when the path ended at a large stone fountain. It was topped with an elaborate carving of a mermaid sitting on a shell, from which the water emerged. You could see the copper glow of coins at the bottom of the basin. There were benches around the fountain, and you sat down on one of them. The area was surrounded by tall trees that blocked off the other areas of the gardens like a dome. This place seemed perfect for reading or quiet contemplation.
You engaged in the latter, tilting your head back and looking up at the night sky. The first stars were emerging. It was truly nighttime now, but you couldn't bring yourself to go back. The thought of having to sit back down on that damned couch and be forced to watch that glittering world from the sidelines seemed like the worst torture in the world.
Why did Mother bring me here? You wondered for the umpteenth time. I could have been using this time to practice my piano or painting. Skills that will actually help my future.
As you stared up at the sky, you gradually sensed a presence near you. You slowly turned your head, preparing yourself to run. When you saw who it was, you nearly gasped.
A tall, stately figure was standing by the fountain. His long silver hair, tied with a ribbon, gleamed beneath the moonlight. His dark blue robes practically blended into the night. He was turned away from you, but you knew who he was immediately. Anyone who lived in Fontaine would.
The Chief Justice, Neuvillette.
What is someone so important doing here? And unannounced, no less.
The Chief Justice hadn't been an invited guest to the ball, you were very sure. For one thing, his arrival would have been announced with far more ceremony. For another thing, he was known to rarely show up to such events unless his presence was specially required.
He didn't seem to notice you were there at first, as he seemed preoccupied with peering into the bottom of the fountain. Has he dropped something? You wondered. And how did he get here without me hearing him?
You briefly considered going up and greeting him before ultimately deciding to sneak away and return to the mansion. Getting involved with someone as important as him never ended well for people like you. What if someone caught you two alone here? You and your family would become fodder for the tabloids.
Yes, stealthily taking your leave was most certainly the right choice here. You picked up your skirts and got up from the bench, then tiptoed slowly to the start of the stone path, carefully watching your step. You had just set your foot on the stones when a voice suddenly called out to you from behind.
"Good evening, Miss. What a lovely evening we have today."
His voice was low and smooth, different from the commanding tone he used during trials. Your family only had the luxury of going to the Opera Epiclese once or twice a year, but you could distinctly hear him ordering the audience to remain calm in your head.
Cursing inwardly, you composed yourself, turned around, and curtsied. "Good evening, Monsieur Neuvillette. My sincerest apologies for not greeting you first. You seemed to be in the middle of doing something important, so I did not wish to interrupt you."
As soon as the words came out of your mouth, you wished you could take them back. They sounded sarcastic even to you. It was a nasty tendency of yours to say things without considering how they might sound to other people, even if they sounded perfectly well-meaning in your head.
However, Neuvillette didn't seem to take any offense. In fact, he nodded like your excuse was perfectly reasonable to him. "No, I should be the one apologizing for being so inconsiderate towards a lady. I let my whims get the best of me instead of greeting you."
"Oh, I assure you that it is no offense to me at all, Monsieur. Now, if you will excuse me, I shall return to the ball."
"Then I shall escort you."
"There's no need for that, Monsieur. It's not very far from here. And also…" you decided to address the elephant in the room. "Forgive me if I am mistaken, but I don't believe that you were an invited guest of the ball. It may cause some confusion if you were to suddenly appear here."
"Ah," he said, like he hadn't considered that. You noticed that he didn't deny being uninvited. "You're right, Miss. Then, will you allow me to escort you up to the arch at least?"
"...Very well, Monsieur. Thank you for your kind offer," you said, because it didn't seem like he was about to leave you alone.
The two of you began walking back in silence. Your mind was occupied with the burning question of what exactly was the Chief Justice doing in a garden without telling anyone, but you couldn't think of a way to bring up the topic without coming off as overstepping your position. But then, isn't he the one who's technically trespassing here?
"So, Monsieur Neuvillette, if you don't mind my presumptuousness in asking, what occasion brings you here?"
"Well…it is as I said before. I am simply here to indulge my whims. I was taking a walk nearby when I heard the delightful burbling of a fountain and couldn't help but come and take a look. Ah, do not worry. The owner of the estate already knows I'm here and has permitted me to take my walks in the gardens."
"Oh, I see," you nodded, even though you didn't. It was too dark to make out his face, but his tone sounded completely sincere and truthful. Not that you could do anything even if he was lying.
There was another brief silence. "And you, Miss? What are you doing here alone, away from the ball? I would assume that most young ladies your age would rather be there."
Normally, you would have been irked by such a question. You’ve heard it too many times in the past. But Neuvillette sounded like he was genuinely curious.
“There’s no need for me to come to balls, so I would rather be doing something else with my time,” you admitted. “I’m only here to accompany my younger sister, who has just come of age.” And because my mother made me come, you silently added.
“No need to come to balls? Are you already betrothed?”
“No, no, that’s not it,” Now you wished you hadn’t answered. It was awkward trying to explain this to an outsider. “It’s just that there’s no point in me being at them. I already know what lies in store for me, and there’s very little chance of it changing.”
“You’ve already decided what you’re going to do in the future? You’re quite the ambitious person.”
It seemed as though he misunderstood. How wonderful. You were somewhat hesitant over whether or not to tell him the truth, since people always acted like you told them you were going to move to the Fleuve Cendre or something like that, but you didn’t want to leave any misunderstandings. “No…it’s not as grand as what you might be thinking, Monsieur. I will become a governess.”
“A governess?” For the first time, you heard something other than polite interest in his voice.
You couldn’t blame him for his reaction. A governess was a role that befell women whose families declined in fortunes or who couldn’t find a husband. It wasn’t something anyone wanted to become. It was a thankless job with low pay and job security, not to mention being at the mercy of the whims of the rich. However, for plain, unassuming people like you with little wealth or connections, it was the only path you saw to survive in this world.
“Yes, Monsieur.” You didn’t really feel like explaining yourself. You learned the hard way that people like him wouldn’t understand anyways. "It is the role given to me in life."
“I'm afraid I do not understand. Were you forced by someone to pursue this path?"
"I wouldn't say forced, exactly. It's more that I'm making use of what limited resources I'm given in life. Governesses are always needed after all, and it's a perfectly respectable job for someone like me to support myself and my family."
In your opinion, some people were fated to become beautiful brides or famous adventurers, while others were destined to a life of being in the background. You knew from a young age that you were the latter. It was far wiser and easier to accept that and face it head on.
"Hmm…" Neuvillette said. He seemed to be thinking deeply about your words, which was a first for you. "You have very strong sense of purpose, Miss."
"I suppose I do. Although I prefer to think of it as accepting the inevitable. I’ve already been preparing myself for it, anyway. We are all given different roles in life by fate, and this is mine."
Neuvillette didn't say anything. Most likely, he was baffled by your words. You found that people got uncomfortable when you talked about fate, but you didn’t really know how else to explain it. Honestly, you were surprised at yourself for being so chatty as well. Maybe it was the darkness of the night, or maybe you drank too much champagne, but you found yourself talking about such things more easily.
At least he didn't attempt to change your mind or give you some cliched rousing speech to "follow your heart" or "never give up" like most others you told this to.
The two of you reached the arch, and the lights of the mansion appeared in the distance. You could even hear the music from here.
"We've arrived at the arch," you turned to him and curtsied once more. "Thank you very much for accompanying me, Monsieur Neuvillette."
"Ah…" he said, almost as if he was surprised by the abruptness of how you're leaving him. He's probably not used to being treated this way, you mused to yourself. "Before you go, may I have the pleasure of knowing your name?"
You debated internally whether or not you should refuse. Having your name known by powerful people seemed like it could lead to trouble, but you couldn't think of any good reason to refuse him without making yourself look suspicious. You decided to compromise by only giving him your first name.
"Miss [Name]..." he said. Your name felt strange to hear your own name coming from his mouth. You weren't sure you liked it much. "I'll remember it."
That sounds weirdly ominous, you thought to yourself. He sounds like a villain who will show up later in the story when you least expect it. Your imagination liked to amuse itself in this way sometimes.
You said goodbye to him once again and headed back to the ball. You swore you could feel his eyes on your back as you walked away.