After a while, Lucien entered the room.
I was still sitting on the sofa, exactly where he had left me.
He walked over and sat beside me, close enough that I could feel his presence without looking.
"Well," he said quietly, "how long has it been?"
I didn't turn.
"Just trying to get rid of uncle's guests," he added.
I only hummed.
Silence settled between us — not awkward, just heavy.
Then I spoke.
"I'll take my leave now."
He nodded.
"Okay. I'll have the selected outfit delivered to your place."
I stood, gave a small nod in return, and walked out.
No long goodbyes.
No unnecessary words.
Some things didn't need them.
I had barely reached my apartment when the doorbell rang.
I opened it to find the package — my gown, carefully wrapped in layers of black leather cloth.
I thanked the delivery staff and carried it inside.
Once alone, I removed the covering slowly.
And there it was.
Magnificent.
Dark elegance woven with wine-red details.
Spider lilies tracing the fabric like shadows in bloom.
It wasn't just a dress.
It felt… intentional.
Like it had been chosen with precision.
I stood there for a moment, absorbing it.
Then I picked up my phone and dialed Lyra.
She answered immediately.
"Lyra. I need a favor."
"Yeah, tell me. Always here for you."
"I need you to handle my makeover. I'm not great with makeup — all I know is basic stuff."
She didn't even hesitate.
"Don't worry. I'll send my makeup artist to your place tomorrow at five. You just get your outfit and accessories ready. Hair, makeup — she'll take care of everything."
I exhaled quietly.
"Thank you, Lyra."
"Anytime."
The call ended.
I placed the gown back carefully, covering it again.
Tomorrow would be hectic.
The ball was close.
And somehow, without realizing it, everything felt like it was moving toward something inevitable.