The banquet hall bustled with people, their laughter and chatter weaving into a lively hum. Elegant chandeliers bathed the room in a warm, golden light, and the scent of fresh flowers floated through the air. Nobles dressed in their finest garments moved gracefully across the polished marble floor, exchanging pleasantries and smiles.
At the entrance, Serena stood beside Lucas, her arm lightly linked with his. She wore a stunning gown that matched Lucas's formal attire—a subtle but clear statement of unity. As they entered, the crowd parted slightly, all eyes turning toward them with a mixture of curiosity and admiration.
Serena held her head high, her face calm and poised. She could already hear the whispers starting.
"Is that the Dowager Duchess Selwyn?"
"I heard she organized the entire banquet herself!"
"She is really beautiful as they say..."
Serena walked taking a glass of wine as Lucas left her side to greet the other lords. Almost immediately, young ladies, curious and eager, hovered around her, offering greetings and admiring glances.
Then, slicing through the warm atmosphere like a blade, Helena's voice rang out, dripping with false sweetness.
"Duchess, is it true you left the imperial banquet that day?"
Serena's jaw tightened for a fleeting second before she masked it with a serene smile. Helena's smirk widened, as if expecting Serena to falter.
Serena sighed softly, then tilted her head, her expression full of natural grace.
"Actually," she said, her voice light but firm, "I had never attended such a grand banquet before. It seems my health couldn't quite keep up. I never imagined the journalists would twist it so dramatically."
At her words, the young ladies around her gasped and immediately began murmuring in support.
"The newspaper was wrong to report it like that!"
"Poor Duchess Selwyn, she must have felt so unwell!"
"You're so strong to still appear tonight, Your Grace!"
Their sympathy flooded the air, and in an instant, the tide had turned against Helena.
Helena's expression stiffened. Frustrated and unable to maintain her composure, she muttered something under her breath and left the circle, her skirts swishing furiously behind her.
Serena lowered her eyes slightly, hiding the faint, knowing smile tugging at her lips.
The music swelled, a soft and elegant rhythm filling the grand hall. Couples began stepping onto the dance floor, swaying to the melody under the glow of crystal chandeliers.
Lucas approached Serena, his hand extended toward her.
"Will you dance with me, Mother?" he asked, his voice low and warm.
Serena smiled, setting her glass of wine on a passing servant's tray.
"Sure," she replied gently, placing her hand in his.
They moved to the center of the floor. As Lucas guided her into the dance, Serena followed with graceful steps. Their movements were fluid, natural, almost like they had practiced countless times before.
The onlookers began to applaud softly, murmuring praises.
Serena, feeling the rhythm guide her, let a small, serene smile linger on her lips. Tonight, all eyes were on her, and none with malice.
As the music ended, Lucas gently released her hand. People clapped louder, some exchanging pleasant glances.
When the banquet finally drew to a close, the Selwyn name had been bathed in nothing but praise and admiration—just as Serena had hoped.
The night sky was sprinkled with countless stars, and though it was only a half-moon, it shone so brightly that it could almost be mistaken for a full moon.
After the banquet ended, Serena had hoped she would fall asleep easily, but rest eluded her. Instead, she found herself drawn outside, seeking solace in the night air.
The cool breeze brushed against her skin as she wandered through the garden.
When she first arrived at the Selwyn estate, this garden had been a shadow of its former self—withered, lifeless, and forgotten. Now, after much effort and no small sum of money, it was once again in full bloom. Roses climbed trellises, lilacs perfumed the air, and soft patches of jasmine lined the winding paths.
Serena walked slowly, her fingertips grazing the petals as she passed. The garden was peaceful—a small corner of the world she had managed to heal.