Beyond the Sinister (COMPLETE)

V. the ball

Seraphina couldn't believe herself as she stared down at the woman in front of the mirror whose raven black hair is flirtatiously tied-up, letting out a few strands fall from the bun and wore a daring red velvet gown, hugging every curve of her.

Letting out a frustrated groan, Seraphina hugged herself hoping the Headmistress won't see her coming down the stairs with such looks as this.

Thankfully, the Headmistress is out of sight that evening. However, few girls peeked from their doors, studying their breathtaking classmates who they cannot believe had the nerve to wear such a piece of audacious clothing.

From mourning gowns to flirting gown real quick,' was exactly what kept running around their judging minds.

Clutching her crimson gown, Seraphina mentally cursed herself for letting her aunt persuade her to wear this for the night.

If only Aunt Veronica did not threaten her to write a letter to Zachary Canning, endorsing her unmarried niece to him.

As soon as Seraphina stepped foot outside the boarding school, where she saw a balding man probably in his late fifties outside, his hand caressing the horses' furs.

Seraphina gave the chauffeur a warm smile as the man escorted her to the black carriage, helping her mount.

"Why, thank you, good Sir," acknowledged Seraphine, her hands glued on the navy blue cushion of the carriage.

And with that, they began their short journey to the ball, a few blocks away from the boarding school which is why the Headmistress allows Seraphina to attend the said ball.

Seraphina cannot help herself from gawking at the sight before her for she never had seen such hefty manor.

What stunned her more was the lack of a number of guests. Just by looking, it seems like the hosts, who are a retired couple in Bath, only invited about fifty or so guests.

Suddenly, Seraphina was honored to be here though that still doesn't change the fact that she badly wants to go home now.

And since the lack of guests is quite evident, Seraphina's entrance was pretty much evident as well. Imagine the look of others when they saw a nineteen-year-old woman strolling inside the drawing-room wearing such an e-like gown.

Numerous guests, especially the older female ones, had their judging eyes glued on her, shaking their heads in disbelief. Thinking that teenagers nowadays are nothing but disgraces. However, Seraphina failed to not notice the discomforting stares of the men at the side, each one holding their own glass of wine.

Seraphina's not certain for she had never tasted such liquid as that ever in her life though Dorian had forced her so many times in the past.

Forcing herself not to think of the guests for she knows none of them, Seraphina diverted her attention to her magnificent interior of the manse.

Her eyes admiring the beauty of the white marble floor, the high-ceiling that are all painted with cherubs, the massive fetching French ball portraits hung over the white wall. A fancy black grand piano on one side, a lyre on top of it and a few long white couches in corners.

Seraphina straightened her posture when she heard a masculine yet friendly voice beside her saying, "Beautiful, isn't it?"

Looking beside her is a man in his mid-twenties, taking in his handsome features. Hazel eyes, clean-shaved, a jet-black hair that fell below his ears, a few inches taller than her.

Seraphine didn't realize she was staring at the gentleman when he uttered, "Not I, Miss, I meant the estate," with such an amused look.

With her cheeks turning into the color of tomatoes, Seraphina blinked hard thrice before composting herself, "That am aware, Sir,"