Owen went downstairs with Hugh.
The inn was busy with noble guests leaving for the gathering. Attendants moved between the entrance and the carriages waiting outside, helping guests with their cloaks and seeing that their vehicles were ready. A few of the guests noticed the Ferrers insignia on Owen’s coat and Hugh’s uniform. Some greeted him respectfully, while others murmured to each other about the Grand Duke’s younger son.
Owen returned the greetings politely and kept walking.
Then he saw Clara and Elise waiting together in the entrance hall, and he stopped.
They looked completely different from the two travel-worn girls he had known for the past few days.
Clara wore the deep blue gown, properly fitted now. The rich color suited her, and the fine detailing along the bodice caught the light whenever she moved. Elise wore the pale green. It was quieter than her sister’s, but the graceful cut and careful fit made her every bit as lovely. Both of them had taken great care over their hair and jewellery.
Owen was genuinely impressed. He had spent days travelling and talking with them, but seeing them dressed for an imperial ball made him see them in an entirely different light.
Clara noticed him looking and smiled, clearly pleased.
Elise greeted him more quietly, though she seemed amused by how long it had taken him to say anything.
"You both look beautiful," Owen said, recovering. "Those gowns suit you perfectly."
"Thank you, my lord," Clara said happily. Then she tilted her head. "Though as I recall, you preferred Elise’s dress. Have you changed your mind about mine?"
"She chose the blue no matter what you said," Elise pointed out.
"I still think Elise’s dress is beautiful," Owen said. "And yours looks wonderful on you."
Clara considered that, then decided to be satisfied with it. Elise smiled, and Owen found he was smiling too.
"Are you ready?"
"I’ve been ready all day," Clara said.
"I’m just relieved they were finished in time," Elise said.
Their maid stood nearby. She had clearly spent the afternoon helping them get ready.
"The young ladies will travel in the Ferrers carriage with you, Young Master," Hugh said. "As arranged."
The three of them went out together, with Hugh beside them.
The Ferrers carriage was waiting in the courtyard, its dark wood polished and its silver fittings bright. The family crest on its door was impossible to miss. The mounted soldiers were assembled beside it in their formal uniforms, and the coachman stood ready at the door. A few of the other departing guests glanced over at it.
Owen handed Clara and then Elise up into the carriage before climbing in after them. The sisters settled into their seats and spent a moment carefully arranging their skirts so they wouldn’t crush. Their maid climbed in beside them.
Hugh took his place with the escort outside.
Hugh gave the signal, and the carriage rolled out of the courtyard into the streets of the capital.
The farther they went, the grander the city became. The buildings grew larger and more ornate, the streets were better kept, and more and more expensive carriages appeared around them, each with a noble house’s insignia on its doors.
As they came closer to the imperial district, the traffic thickened.
Clara leaned toward the window. "I know that crest," she said, pointing at a passing carriage. "I’ve definitely seen it before."
"That’s a merchant’s carriage," Elise said. "Look at the sign on the back."
"Then that one."
"That one, yes."
Owen joined in whenever he recognized a crest. More often than not, he didn’t, and said so.
"You don’t know that one either?" Clara asked.
"I know Mowbray, and I know my own," Owen said. "After that, I’m mostly guessing."
"So am I," Clara admitted. "Elise is the one who actually paid attention to our lessons."
"Someone had to," Elise said.
The talk turned to the gathering itself.
"We came to one of these two years ago," Clara said. "With our father."
"What did you enjoy most?" Owen asked.
Clara didn’t even have to think about it. "The dancing. And the food. They had little cakes shaped like flowers, and I ate far too many of them." She sighed happily. "And seeing people you never get to see anywhere else."
"I remember it differently," Elise said. "I remember being introduced to about a hundred people and forgetting all their names by the end of the night. My feet hurt for two days."
Owen laughed. "I’m looking forward to it anyway. I want to meet people from outside Ferrers territory. It’s my first imperial gathering."
"You’ll love it," Clara said.
"Ask him again after the fortieth introduction," Elise said.
Owen realized, somewhere along the way, how comfortable the two of them had become around him. Clara joked freely now, without stopping to remember his title. Elise was still quieter, but she joined in naturally, and every so often she teased him outright.
He had come here expecting to make some acquaintances at the ball. He hadn’t expected to be riding to it with two friends already.
Eventually, the imperial palace came into view.
Owen noticed the size of it long before he could make out any details. It rose high above everything around it, with tall walls, elegant towers and grounds that seemed to go on and on. The broad approach was lit all the way along its length, and imperial guards stood at every carefully kept entrance.
Dozens of noble carriages were making their way toward the reception area.
Owen leaned toward the window. He had grown up in a grand house, but this was grandeur on another scale altogether. The sheer height of the buildings, the light spilling from row after row of windows, the guards and attendants everywhere he looked all spoke of the wealth and authority of the Imperial Family.
What interested him most, though, were the other carriages. Each one they passed carried a different family’s insignia, with its own attendants or guards riding alongside.
The Ferrers convoy joined the line near the palace entrance. Imperial attendants were directing the carriages to their stopping points, while guards kept the approach from becoming too crowded.
One of the attendants noticed the Ferrers crest and said something quickly to the officer supervising the arrivals. A moment later, Owen’s carriage was waved toward a separate reception entrance.
The carriage came to a stop. Outside, Hugh dismounted and came over to oversee their arrival.
The coachman opened the door, and Owen stepped down first. He turned and helped Clara down, then Elise, giving them time to arrange their gowns.
The sisters looked up at the palace. Even Clara, who had been here before, looked thrilled.
Hugh spoke briefly with the palace attendants about the carriage, the escort, and where the household staff should wait.
An imperial reception attendant came forward and bowed to Owen. "My lord. You are attending as the representative of House Ferrers?"
"I am."
The attendant turned to the sisters. "And the ladies of House Ashcombe?"
"Yes," Clara said.
The attendant made a note of their names. "Welcome to the palace. If you’ll follow the corridor ahead, it will take you to the main reception hall."
"Thank you," Owen said.
They went in together.
Inside, the floors were polished to a shine, the ceilings rose high above them, and the broad corridors glowed with lamps. Attendants moved among the arriving guests, offering directions and guiding each party toward the right rooms. Everyone who came in was received, named and sent onward.
The sound of conversation and music grew clearer the farther they went.
At the entrance to the main ballroom, an imperial herald stood waiting to receive the guests. He confirmed Owen’s name and standing, then the Ashcombe sisters’ names.
Owen straightened slightly. Beside him, Clara smoothed a fold in her gown, and Elise took one last look at the open doors.
Owen glanced at the two of them. They glanced back.
Then the doors were opened all the way.
An enormous hall stretched out in front of them, lit by great chandeliers and filled with beautifully dressed guests. Music played somewhere beyond the entrance, and voices overlapped beneath the high ceiling. Young nobles from all across the Empire stood in small groups, talking and laughing, while attendants moved between them with refreshments and other guests drifted toward the dancing floor.
The herald’s voice rang out over the noise.
"Lord Owen Ferrers, son of Grand Duke Edmund Ferrers, representative of House Ferrers."
Then: "Lady Clara Ashcombe and Lady Elise Ashcombe, daughters of Viscount Ashcombe."
Several nearby conversations stopped.
A few nobles turned toward the entrance at the sound of the Ferrers name. Others exchanged quiet remarks, and Owen caught the words "Grand Duke" and "younger son" from somewhere to his left. Some of them looked at the two beautifully dressed Ashcombe sisters at his side as well.
Owen noticed the attention, and it didn’t trouble him. He knew exactly why they were looking. House Ferrers was one of the most powerful families in the Empire, and his presence here carried that name with it.
He gave the room a polite, confident nod and stepped forward. Clara and Elise came in on either side of him.
For the first time, Owen stood among the noble heirs gathered at the invitation of Princess Adelaide Staufen.
He couldn’t wait to meet them.