Isolde peered at the bulky silver timepiece around her wrist. In a matter of minutes, Lady Godelieve needed to return.

The night did not go so well. Before they even reached the venue, they were informed that there were members of the press scattered about. It was a private affair. But as Lady Godelieve would say, an affair as such can be temptation. Somehow, they will always manage to gain access.

"Not surprising being out on socials still bothers you," Lady Godelieve remarked with a smirk on her face.

"Perhaps that about me hasn't changed," Isolde said, glancing at Lady Godelieve from the side. Lady Godelieve's voice was calm, but she could feel the bout of hesitation underneath it.

Lady Godelieve turned to the princess for a moment. "The watch suits you nicely."

"Mr. Gautier sent it through Julienne."

"Exclusively for Her Highness," Lady Godelieve said.

Isolde nodded. Yes, that was right. To the famed Monsieur Fabrice Gautier, confidant of the late Queen Consort, the finest of his timepieces were made to be worn exclusively by the Crown Princess, as the recent one around her wrist. Isolde was rather embarrassed by the thought of it. Yet, such lavish privilege was the truth. "Monsieur Gautier did not have to send me another," she said in a rather discomfited tone. "It's not my birthday."

"To sense your appreciation by wearing his masterpieces is his pride," Lady Godelieve said. "Lavish as it may seem, allow him and to feel your appreciation for each one."

Isolde stared at her new timepiece. From its square case to its bracelet, it was beautifully, painstakingly done. A masterpiece it was indeed. And as much as she hated to admit to herself, Lady Godelieve was right.

"Monsieur Gautier cared for Queen Hitomi very much," Lady Godelieve said. "You can't blame him if you remind him of her."

"And someone once said I have my father's features."

"Really? Who said that?"

"You did," Isolde said bluntly.

Then, a moment of silence.

"Well," Lady Godelieve finally said, smiling. "You used to."

Isolde turned to Lady Godelieve and smiled back.

Lady Godelieve's cheeks reddened slightly as she retracted from the Crown Princess' stare. "Listen," she said, almost stammering. "About tonight… I'm really sorry it was ruined and all. This is your first evening with me on a gathering and --"

Isolde shook her head. "It can't be helped," she said. She noticed how Lady Godelieve reacted to her but paid no attention to it. "The press is focused on the crowd. If I keep away from it, I will be fine."

"If you say so," Lady Godelieve said and stood. "I should be going. I'll come back for you soon."

"Take your time," Isolde said, nodding. "I'll wait here." She watched Lady Godelieve cover distance away from her, sighing heavily, and lifted her head toward the dark and starless heavens. A sky as empty and dark would make fireworks flash and display their best, she thought. Blindly, she reached for the pendant. Then, she placed her stare on it as she turned it over.

The crystal lighting reflected against the dark hall floor. Such shimmer was comparable to the guests who have graced the spacious function hall, each of them dressed so elegantly for the evening. Some of them were of illustrious backgrounds. Some were of affluent lineage. Men in expensive suits and women in designer dresses mingled with one another, the social circle dividing into smaller social circles of different interests in the passing of the evening.

Eriko was part of this society. Yet, after speaking with a few ladies and a number of men, she chose to no longer speak to anyone for the rest of the evening. The ladies discussed matters that would not hold her interest for long. And the men, most of them, merely exhibited interest in her. No more of them, she thought, then glancing at her father standing a great distance from her as he conversed with the host of the gathering, Master Shigano Hayashi, and Mrs. Charlton. She chose to separate from him to avoid encountering more of the guests.

She set her eyes on the grand, framed canvas on the wall behind her. It seemed to be of a garden. There was a fountain surrounded by concrete flooring and four lit lampposts. And by the concrete flooring and posts were plants with flowers, mostly yellow. Fireworks scattered across the night sky behind it. Nicely done, Eriko thought of the art, as she looked for the signature of its creator. There was supposed to be a signature at the bottom of the canvas, but she could not seem to find it.

"There you are," a voice then came from behind Eriko.

Eriko recognized the elderly male voice. 'Again,' she said to herself, exasperated, and turned around. She thought she had already steered clear of all the young and old "hounds of the evening"… even him, the most persistent of them all. It was then an uneasy feeling crept through her.

An elderly man with a receding hairline and of stubby built tottered toward her.

Eriko took a step back as the scent of alcohol crossed her sense of smell. Mr. Barnard L. Charlton, husband of Mrs. Charlton and one of the few moguls in the guest list, was intoxicated. The unease in her worsened, yet she remained calm. "Mr. Charlton," she greeted. "Mrs. Charlton is with --"

Mr. Charlton quickly grabbed hold of Eriko's arm before she could finish and pulled her forcibly. "Very exquisite," he said. "You are very exquisite, my dear…"

"Mr. Charlton," Eriko uttered. The smell of alcohol seemed too much for her composure to keep. Yet, she remained calm. "Aren't we being a bit improper?" she said. No, she thought, attempting to relieve her arm of the elderly man's tight grasp. She wished to call for help, but --

Two men suddenly came from behind Mr. Charlton and immediately pulled him from Eriko.

The mansion guards, Eriko recognized the black suits. They were part of the uniformly-dressed men and women scattered about the mansion.

"Mr. Barnard L. Charlton," one of the guards said. "…again." Then, he turned to Eriko. "Did we barge in on something, Miss?"

"He has had a drink too many," Eriko answered. "Please take him somewhere to sober down." Again. The elderly tycoon must be a frequent guest of the Shigano Mansion that the guards already recognize him as a nuisance.

The old man struggled from the two guards. He opened his mouth to speak, but the other guard interrupted him.

"Time to sober down again, sir," the other guard said and tightened his grasp Mr. Charlton's right arm. He turned to Eriko. "Mr. Charlton shouldn't be bothering you anymore… for this evening at least."

"Thank you," Eriko said to the guards.

The guards turned around as they began to escort the intoxicated mogul out of the function hall.

Eriko watched to her relief as the guards led Mr. Charlton away. Had they not come, she would have been in greater risk. Who could have sent for them, she thought. She did not believe this to be of coincidence but did not ponder further. Mr. Charlton is gone. Again, she glanced at her father from the distant spot where she stood. He was still conversing with Mr. Shigano and Mrs. Charlton, as if oblivious of what had happened to her daughter.

"Everything all right, Torii-sama?"

Eriko turned to her right. She recognized the bespectacled lady approaching her. Takeshima Tsutako, the same girl who had taken photographs of her that sparked interest across Lillian. Given that previous incident and her sudden appearance after Mr. Charlton had bee escorted away by mansion guards, perhaps the same person could have had something to do with what happened earlier. "I am fine now, Takeshima-san," Eriko answered. "What happened earlier… could you have had something to do with it?"

"I overheard some ladies talk about Mr. Torii's daughter and Mr. Charlton," Tsutako explained, pushing her glasses. "I... asked the guards to keep an eye on him."

"Thank you," Eriko said. She paused for a moment as she observed a well-dressed Tsutako and smiled. The bespectacled girl that had saved her looked charming in the evening dress, she thought.

Tsutako shook her head. "Glad to be of your assistance, Torii-sama." She paused for a moment, glancing at Mrs. Charlton then back at Eriko. "The Charltons are frequent guests in the Shigano mansion. Mr. Charlton can be troublesome once he's taken in too much."

"Then, I don't understand why Master Shigano would invite him at all," Eriko said.

"Mrs. Charlton is Otouji-san's friend," Tsutako said. "I suppose that's all I can say."

"Otouji-san…" Eriko wondered. "Master Shigano is your uncle?" Again, she observed the painting on the wall.

"My father's uncle," Tsutako explained. "He doesn't like being called 'Ojii-san'." She followed Eriko's line of sight to the painting and turned to it as well. "Otouji-san calls it 'The Secret'," she said.

"The… Secret…" Eriko repeated.

"Strange how some artists name their work," Tsutako remarked. "Otouji-san was a frustrated painter. This was his first and his last. He chose to serve the Royal Family of France."

"I see," Eriko said, finally lifting her stare from the canvas. She remembered her father telling her about Master Shigano on the way to the mansion. "Otou-san told me Master Shigano retired just after King Jean Aimeri ascended the throne and decided to settle here in Japan."

"My father took his place," Tsutako said casually. "He left the job months after the Queen Consort died, but he was asked to return just recently."

"I see," Eriko said. The Royal Family of France… It was possible that Tsutako may have met any of them, most likely the Crown Princess. Given this, she felt the urge to ask more questions but refrained from doing so. She was not to let herself gain even more interest toward anything or anyone connected to the Crown Princess. Again, she turned her attention to the painting on the wall. "There is," she spoke after a pause. "Such a place here in the mansion, isn't there?"

"Beyond the tinted glass door," Tsutako answered, eyes focused on the painting. She was referring to the door next to it. "You can barely see the path to it at night. Otouji-san told me to --" She stopped as she turned to where Eriko stood. "-- walk straight until I see light."

Eriko was gone.

The dances were to begin shortly after the host had spoken. Guests with their dates stood outside dance floor as they waited. Lady Godelieve glanced at them, feeling a touch of envy. She long wanted someone to ask her to have even just one dance. But such was a wish close to impossible. Princess Isolde would never ask her, more so in public.

"Besides those men, I'm betting that half of these ladies would want to dance with Her Highness as well, if she were present," Melisent whispered to Lady Godelieve.

"Stop it, Melisent," Lady Godelieve rebuked, lightly tapping the back of her assistant's hand. "But you're right." Her voice softened upon saying this. Melisent was right, needless to say.

"I still see a few of them from here," Melisent said, feigning to scan through the gadget in her hands. "She may have to wait until the night finishes. Should I call Julienne?"

Lady Godelieve shook her head. "She'll be fine."

"They say the fireworks are nice to view from there," Melisent remarked of the place Lady Godelieve had kept Isolde. "Other than a dance, seeing the display with her is a romantic idea, don't you think so?"

"Even that is impossible right now," Lady Godelieve said.

"The press, the press, and the press," Melisent said. Her eyes resumed to wander surreptitiously as the two of them were silent. "The man with Mr. Yamada, he's looking this way."

"That's Mr. Faulkner," Lady Godelieve said, recognizing the gentleman in gray looking to their direction.

"You know him?"

"Mr. Yamada introduced me to him a while back," Lady Godelieve said. "A nice man he is."

"Handsome, too," Melisent said smilingly.

"Maybe," Lady Godelieve said. Handsome as he may be, the man did not seem to interest her at all.

"He's coming this way."

The lights in the hall slowly began to dim. The first dance was about to start.

The music began to play.

Isolde glanced at the loudspeakers under the lights. The dances, she thought. The first dance has started.

She, as part of the royalty, should know how to dance, as her tutor once told her. She would do well in her lessons. Though, dancing never managed to catch her interest.

It was often Lady Godelieve who would initiate practice with her. Lady Godelieve often asked her to teach her the dances as practice. However, Isolde wanted each practice in secret, and they would dance behind the doors of her chamber in the palace.

'It's silly, but sometimes, I imagine you asking me in a gathering,' Lady Godelieve once said to her after a practice.

Isolde remembered laughing in response. Then, she did not know of Lady Godelieve's feelings for her.

In the midst of the music, Isolde suddenly heard the faint sound of steps. The steps were coming from outside, and they seemed to draw near. Lady Godelieve told her to stay where she was. She was not to go outside or return on her own. But something in her heart seemed to progressively seize her at every pace, as if telling her to take a step forward. She stood as a shadow peered from the dimness beyond the beyond the entrance.

Closer.

Closer.

The pendant dropped from Isolde's hands. She wished her eyes were simply fooling her, but they were not. Her heart threatened from its cage as she gradually felt herself freeze from where she stood. This, she expected at the very least.

Eriko was feeling her control slip from her grasp. Before her… of all possibilities to occur this evening, this she had not predicted. She was not to show any sign of surprise. Not even a speck of it.

"Your Highness…" Eriko finally uttered guising the edginess she felt with the calmness of her voice. The Crown Princess simply stared at her, not saying a word. The gentle, lonely stare of her blue eyes and her silence only made Eriko more anxious.