The Winter Ball
Xander
Duran Manor was abuzz with activity. The staff rushed around, hanging festive decorations and setting up tables full of port and champagne. Xander wandered around the grand hall to stand with Deion at the windows, watching the sun set across the lake and behind Amara House—Striga’s home. And Adriana’s.
The last golden rays of the day illuminated the ballroom, and the garlands wrapped around the towering tree in the corner sparkled against the dying light. The musicians had begun to practise in the opposite corner of the room, tuning their instruments and discussing their plans for the evening. It all seemed so joyous, something Xander couldn’t admit he was alltoo comfortable with. Calmness before a storm was the most misleading.
“Christmas so soon already,” Deion muttered. “You’d think I’d be used to the years running by so quickly.”
Xander grimaced as he watched the carriages fill the paths that led from the village. It had only been a few months since they’d moved in, and already he’d had countless visitors from families trying to wed off their daughters to the mysterious Lord Alexander Duran. And once it had been announced that Duran Manor would host a ball to celebrate the Winter Solstice, at Striga’s non-negotiable request, every single one of the noble families from the village and surrounding estates had accepted the invitation.
It would be ‘a night of glamour and beauty’, according to Striga. And so, to avoid disappointing his dear friend, Xander donned a tailored black suit similar to Edward’s and Deion’s. Only he opted for a dark shirt as opposed to the traditional white and had kept his usual black leather gloves on rather than swapped for the standard kid gloves men typically wore at such events. But it all felt so staged, just another costume for another role he was meant to play.
“Remind me again why we have to be here?” Xander asked. “Surely Striga and her guests can just use the estate for their festivities and we can go into town, celebrate the holidays the way we used to.”
Deion laughed at Xander’s fifth attempt of the evening to convince him to leave the party. Xander hated formal events with a passion.
“You mean get rip roaring drunk at a tavern, wake up next to people we don’t know, and have no memory of the night?” Deion tutted at Xander, waggling his finger at him in the same way he told his children off. “I am a father, Xander. I grew out of our silly games long ago. It is time you did, too. In fact, perhaps it istime you found yourself someone to settle down with, like I have. Find your person.”
Xander followed Deion’s gaze as he looked over at Edward with their children as he ushered them out of the ballroom to go to bed. Xander was happy for them, he had supported them ever since they had admitted their feelings for one another when they had been fearful of how the others would react. Although Xander knew the rest of his brothers would not hold issue with Deion and Edward’s relationship, he’d threatened to skin them alive if any of them were to be prejudiced towards them in any way. But it pained him that they had to keep their relationship a secret from the rest of the obnoxious world.
As he watched the happy family, laughing and hiding presents under the tree, he struggled to picture himself living such a life. “I am not sure if that is meant for me,” he sighed. “I am happy for you, of course, but I just do not see a life of love in the cards for me.”
“You could at least search for it,” Deion suggested. “Seek out a person you connect with, a person you enjoy the company of. They could well indeed turn out to be the love of your life.”
“And how would I know who they are? How would I know that what I feel is real and not just lust or craving?”
“Well, that is simple. It is the one person you cannot stay away from, nor from whom you want to stay away.”
Xander paused, pondering over Deion’s words. Had he ever felt that way about anyone before? He’d had lovers, countless of them, but those individuals had never been anything special to him after the night was over. The only times he had felt the urge to win anyone’s affections was if he and his brothers had competed for the attention of a pretty girl; a petty competition, one that he had ashamedly enjoyed a number of times. Xander usually won or, on the rare occasion, he and Nicolai had shared the night with the same woman.
His eyes were drawn to a carriage that slowly came down the path from Amara House. He swore he could practically feel the stare of those pale blue eyes piercing through the glass and into his soul.
“And then what?” Xander remarked in disgust, as he stepped away from the window and reached for a drink. “I watch her grow old and die whilst I remain just as I am? I bury her body and suffer the heartbreak for eternity?”
Deion stared pointedly at Xander, clearly surprised at his sudden outburst. “You assume she will be a mortal?” he asked. “Or perhaps you have already put thought into who she could be?”
Xander ignored him, rolling his eyes and finishing his drink in one go before reaching for another.
“If they were mortal,” Deion continued, “would it be so bad to offer to turn them?”
Xander stilled. He put his drink down and shut his eyes, the sickening sensation he felt at the thought of turning someone into a monster just like him making him feel nauseous. On the day he had awoken on that battlefield all those years ago, he had sworn to himself he would never turn another. He would not bestow a curse of blood and despair on anyone, would not force someone to live their frozen life in the shadows of society. No matter the reason.
Tilting his head towards Deion, he asked, “If you had to choose for your children between the life they have now or a life of mortality, would you still choose eternity?”
Deion raised an eyebrow at his question. Xander often read his mind, extracting his thoughts before he had the opportunity to even understand them himself to avoid wasting time in important meetings, but this time he wanted him to explain in his own words. He wanted to understand why Deion, someone who had also declared he would never wish to turn another, hadbrought three children into their undying existence. They would never age, never grow, never fall in love, never live a true life.
“No,” Deion eventually sighed. “I would not. But I do not regret turning them. Immortality was the only option for them to live, the only way I could have my family. I am far more selfish than you, Xander, but maybe you need to be selfish for once. Or I fear you will end up alone.”
Xander hung his head in thought, contemplating the idea of turning someone just so he wouldn’t be alone, just so he could feel their love for eternity. He couldn’t do it, no matter how lonely he felt, he would not do that to someone. He didn’t let himself get close to people, didn’t wait around to find out if anyone meant more to him, because he knew it would end in pain. And he was so tired of being in pain.
A cough sounded from the doorway. Xander snapped his head up to see one of the staff guiding several guests from the village into the ballroom. Donning a false charming smile, one he so easily wore, Xander made his way over to begin the long evening of greeting the guests Striga had invited.
Adriana
“Lord Miller will be in attendance. He was recently widowed and so will be likely searching for a new wife to take over his house. Major Yorke has returned from military service; he will be in high demand this evening. Lord Abbot may also be attending, although from the sounds of the town gossip, his financial status has not fared well since his copper mines havebeen on their last legs. Avoid adding him to your dancing card if you can…”
Adriana stared out the carriage window at the approaching manor as her father prattled on. He was using this farce of a winter ball to try to find her appropriate suitors, and she could not be less interested.
