Reborn as the Last van Ambrose-Chapter 33: Grand Entrance

Empress Alexia sat on her golden throne, surveying the gathered nobility. She allowed the music to play for several minutes, giving the guests time to settle into the rhythm of the ball. When the song ended, she raised her hand subtly, and the musicians immediately fell silent.

The ballroom stilled as all eyes turned to the imperial dais.

"Distinguished guests," the Empress began, her voice carrying effortlessly across the grand space. "We welcome you to the Imperial Ball of the Celetis Empire."

She stood, and the entire assembly remained perfectly still, hanging on her every word.

"This gathering has been a tradition for over three hundred years, a testament to the enduring strength of our empire. Tonight, we celebrate not just our history, but our future. Our alliances, our achievements, and our shared prosperity."

Her gaze swept the room, lingering briefly on the representatives from Colere and the Demon Lands.

"I am particularly pleased to welcome Queen Maeve of the Demon Lands and the distinguished representatives of the Heavenly Dao Sect. Your presence honors us and speaks to the possibility of greater understanding between our peoples."

There was a polite smattering of applause, though many of the imperial nobles looked distinctly uncomfortable at the mention of cooperation with traditional rivals.

"As tradition dictates," the Empress continued, "the ball will commence with the first dance. On this special occasion, I am pleased to announce that my daughter, Princess Liona, will lead this dance."

A murmur rippled through the crowd. The first dance was typically reserved for the Empress herself or for politically significant pairings she wished to highlight. For the princess to lead it was unusual, especially given her youth.

Princess Liona stood, looking simultaneously nervous and determined. She stepped down from the dais to the center of the ballroom, where a circle had cleared for the first dance.

"Her Royal Highness will now choose her partner for the first dance," the herald announced.

The young nobles of the sixteen great houses straightened, each hoping to be selected. Lord Terras stood with his sons, a smug smile on his face. Clearly, he believed one of his offspring would be chosen, making his wager with Grim an easy victory.

Princess Liona stood alone in the center of the floor, her eyes scanning the crowd. The silence stretched uncomfortably as she appeared to be searching for someone who wasn't present. Whispers began as the delay extended beyond what was appropriate.

Seeing his opportunity, Lord Terras nudged his eldest son forward. "Now, Verin. Go claim the dance before someone else does."

Verin Terras, a tall youth of fourteen with his father's portly build already beginning to show, straightened his expensive jacket and moved confidently toward the center of the ballroom. His smile didn't reach her eyes as he approached the princess.

"Your Highness," he said with a bow. "May I have the honor of this dance?"

Princess Liona looked at him with barely concealed disappointment. She hesitated, clearly reluctant but aware of the social pressure mounting with each passing second. The entire court was watching, waiting for her response.

Lord Terras watched with smug satisfaction, already mentally calculating the tortue he had planned for Grim. Across the room, Rowan van Ambrose frowned, concern evident on his face as he watched the princess's obvious discomfort.

Just as Liona opened her mouth to give what appeared to be a reluctant acceptance, something strange happened. A fine mist began to form at floor level, slowly spreading across the ballroom. Guests shifted uneasily, looking for the source.

Verin Terras froze mid-smile, his outstretched hand suddenly hovering in empty air as the mist swirled around his ankles.

The Empress maintained her composed expression, but a slight furrow appeared between her brows. This was not part of the plan.

The mist thickened, rising to knee height, then waist height. Visibility diminished rapidly, and confused murmurs broke out across the room.

Then came the sound. Splashes, as if someone was moving quickly through shallow water. The sounds came from multiple directions, seemingly at once, making it impossible to track the movement.

The musicians fell silent, instruments lowered as they stared into the mist in confusion. The imperial guards moved closer to the Empress and Princess, hands moving to weapons that weren't supposed to be needed tonight.

Suddenly, the mist parted directly in front of Princess Liona, and there stood Grim van Ambrose. His formal black and red attire was immaculate, the imperial pin gleaming at his collar. He bowed deeply to the startled princess.

"Your Highness," he said, his voice carrying in the stunned silence. "I believe you were looking for me."

Liona's face transformed from concern to delight. "Lord Ambrose," she replied formally, though her eyes sparkled with barely suppressed excitement. "Indeed I was."

As the mist began to dissipate, the astonished faces of the assembly came into view. Lord Terras stood slack-jawed, his wine glass tilting dangerously in his loosened grip. His sons looked equally stunned, their carefully practiced smiles frozen into masks of disbelief.

Lady Renara, watching from near one of the marble columns, made no attempt to hide her amusement. She laughed openly, raising her glass in a silent toast to Grim's audacity.

Across the room, the elderly man with the white ponytail and scar straightened and paid full attention to Grim. His eyes narrowed as he studied the boy's entrance, recognition, and something like pride flashing briefly across his face.

Even the foreign dignitaries had reacted. Queen Maeve looked intrigued, her violet eyes studying Grim with new interest. General Yongrun remained impassive beneath his hood, but Archmage Dongmei had raised a single elegant eyebrow, ice crystals briefly forming and then melting on her fingertips.

From the imperial dais, the Empress observed it all. Her expression revealed nothing, but those who knew her well might have detected the slightest curl at the corner of her mouth. Not quite a smile, but certainly not displeasure.

"I accept your offer to dance, Lord Ambrose," Princess Liona said clearly, extending her hand.

Grim took it with unexpected grace. "The honor is mine, Princess."

The Empress nodded to the musicians, who hastily raised their instruments and began to play. The first notes of the traditional opening dance filled the ballroom as Grim and Liona took their positions.

Rowan, who had been conversing with a group of military officials, turned at the commotion to see his son at the center of attention. His expression cycled rapidly through shock, anger, and finally, resignation, with perhaps a hint of reluctant pride.

As Grim and Liona began to dance, moving with surprising coordination for their age, Julius Luminaris appeared at Rowan's side.

"The Ethereal Mist technique," Julius observed quietly. "Your son has learned quite a bit for his age."

"Apparently so," Rowan replied, his tone carefully neutral.

"And the Drifting Mist Step too, by the sound of it," Julius continued. "Impressive for one so young."

Rowan didn't respond, his eyes fixed on his son.

Across the ballroom, Lord Terras had recovered from his initial shock. His face had purpled with rage as he watched the boy he had tried to humiliate dancing with the princess.... Winning their wager in the most public and dramatic way possible.

"This isn't over," he muttered to his sons. "The brat may have won the first round, but the night is young."

Meanwhile, in the center of the ballroom, Grim and Liona continued their dance, seemingly oblivious to the stir they had caused. Liona was beaming openly now, her royal decorum temporarily forgotten in her delight.

You dance well," Liona whispered as he guided her through a turn. "Have you been practicing?"

"Fighting forms and dancing aren't so different," Grim replied. "It's all about balance, timing, and knowing where your opponent or partner will move next."

The princess smiled at the comparison. "So you see me as an opponent?"

"I see you as the key to winning a bet," Grim said with a smirk, then added more softly, "And maybe as a friend."

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Liona's smile brightened at that admission, rare as it was from the usually guarded boy. As they continued to move across the floor, the initial shock of Grim's entrance gave way to grudging admiration from many observers. Whatever else could be said about the young Ambrose heir, he certainly knew how to command attention.

"That was amazing," she whispered to Grim.

"Family technique," Grim replied with a hint of smugness. "Thought I'd make an entrance."

"Well, you certainly did," Liona said, grinning. "Everyone's looking at us."

"Let them look," Grim said. His eyes briefly flicked to where Lord Terras stood fuming. "Some people just learned a valuable lesson about making bets they can't win."

As the dance continued, the ballroom gradually returned to normal. Conversations resumed, though now centered on the unexpected display they had just witnessed. The noble houses would be discussing the implications of Princess Liona's choice for weeks to come.

And through it all, the elderly man with the scar continued to watch Grim, his eyes never leaving the boy who had just demonstrated mastery of techniques that should have been beyond his years. Techniques that had once earned another Ambrose the title of the White Death.