𝕳𝖊'𝖘 𝕷𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝕬 𝕳𝖞𝖆𝖈𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖍

{ Song Of Solomon 8:7 }

Chapter 21's song: Les Yeux Noir By Pomplamoose

A/n: I made the dance routine for this story

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{ " Many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it: if a man would give all the substance of his house for love, it would utterly be contemned." }
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Arrival of France

The three people walk into a large front room. The room is decorated with red mahogany wood on the archways of the two sides. There's a balcony with the same hues of wood on the railings. There's an oval table of mahogany tones placed in the center of the two archways. An intricate red, black, and gold placemat is underneath a skinny vase of red roses. There are more roses on either side of a dark green, black, and creme loveseat.

The ceiling is colored in a marvelous art piece of the Renaissance era. The angels and cherubs are spread around the spiraling clouds. The center of the piece is more clouds with no angels and a blue sky.

"Welcome, M/n and Y/n!" The mother of Émeric greets the unexpected guests. She's already embracing her mother, rocking her side to side with all of her love and affection for the lady. "Hullo, Mr. and Mrs. Aveline." The seventeen-year-old girl interjects softly, her head bows to them as she lifts her long crimson dress for a proper greeting.

The announcer and the other parent haven't noticed the man behind them although it should've been obvious to see. The father immediately sees the taller man towering over the two familiar faces.

His sunflower golden eyes become harsh by their sudden eye contact. His emotions displayed no sense of urgency and enthusiasm. Vincent simply stares at the male mortal who averts his focus away from him. "Oh. M/n... Who is this?" The woman finally queries. Her elocution drops in varieties of high and low tones in her statement.

Her eyebrows arched up slightly, distinguishing something her husband felt during his interrogation. She attempts to tug at the corner of her lips. There's this unsettling sensation jabbing at the two people's backs. "Elizabeth, Adonis, this is Vincent St.Evans Callaway. He's a friend of mine's son." M/n answers them, gesturing her hand over to the man behind them.

"Nice ta be aquatinted with ye, Mr. and Mrs. Aveline." Vincent's voice is an intimation of monotonous, although he strives to sound pleased to encounter them. Elizabeth incline her head to the response still unsure about the new acquaintance of theirs.

"Well, M/n and Y/n came in at a splendid time. We just commenced our annual party." She mentions. Her eyes move over to where the protagonist is observing her surroundings. "Also Bug doesn't know you're supposed to be coming." Elizabeth hints to the lady. Immediately, the protagonist grabs onto the male's wrist pulling him to the ballroom.

"Why in the devil are ye scurryin'? Yer goin' ta see yer friend, anyways." Vincent states slightly irritated by the mention of another friend. His golden eyes analyze the protagonist's bun. 'Why are ye this buoyant?' Vincent ponders, registering his mind starts to aimlessly search for conclusions.

Once they reach their destination. There are two men placed on either side of the enormous door leading to the fiesta. The teenager allows the people on the side to open the door for them. However, before proceeding, one of the men stops her. "Your mask and fan, m'lady." He states, his head bowed to her while his hand is out to bestow her a black mask.