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CHAPTER ONE Lady Catherine of Veloria
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The day Lady Catherine Elowen Moonfall was born dawned with a shroud of mist that clung to the grounds of Moonfall Manor, blanketing the world in a hushed, expectant silence. It was late in the year 1715, and autumn had settled over the countryside, with fallen leaves painting the grounds in hues of amber and crimson. The silver crescent moon above seemed to shine a little brighter as if welcoming the noble child born under its watchful gaze. Her arrival was celebrated quietly, as was the Moonfall way, but with pride that stretched from the manor's stone walls to the very heart of the noble lineage she had been born into.
Duchess Eveline Moonfall, graceful and poised even after the trials of childbirth, cradled her newborn daughter, studying the little face swaddled in soft, silken blankets. Catherine's eyes, dark and wide, stared back at her mother with an unsettling awareness, as if the infant already understood her place in this world. Duke Edmund, a stoic yet affectionate man with the regal bearing expected of a nobleman, watched his wife and newborn daughter with a quiet reverence. His firstborn child, the future of the Moonfall line, had come at last.
As the years passed, Catherine grew into an observant, thoughtful child. She possessed a curious spirit and a sharp intellect that both fascinated and concerned her parents, especially her mother. Duchess Eveline recognized early on that her daughter's curiosity could be both a strength and a weakness. Determined to nurture Catherine into a lady of both wisdom and grace, Eveline took a personal role in Catherine's upbringing. Catherine, for her part, admired her mother's elegance and longed to earn her approval, though she did not yet understand the full weight of what was expected of her.
When Catherine was two, her younger brother, Evander Lucian Moonfall, was born. He was a spirited boy from the beginning, loud where Catherine was quiet, bold where she was cautious. They were opposites in every way, yet they were bound by a sibling bond that grew with each passing year. Catherine found herself both irritated by and fiercely protective of her younger brother. Evander, for his part, looked up to his elder sister but never missed an opportunity to tease her, finding amusement in ruffling her usually calm exterior.
One brisk morning, when Catherine was seven, she was summoned to the parlor, where her mother awaited her. Duchess Eveline stood by a small table adorned with a fine tea set-delicate china cups, a graceful teapot, and a small silver tray.
"Catherine, today you will learn a lady's art of tea," her mother said, her voice smooth and calm, with a faint smile on her lips. "One day, you will be expected to host guests and carry yourself with dignity, no matter the occasion. It is important to learn these small courtesies."
Catherine nodded, her wide, dark eyes fixed on her mother, eager yet a little nervous. She watched as Duchess Eveline demonstrated the subtlety required in each step-the precise way to hold the teapot, the gentle manner in which to pour without a single drop escaping.
