Fate, it seemed, was not satisfied with merely binding Alessandro Vittorio di Ravenna and Elena Rosalinda della Fiorenza through an outrageously rude curse. It also chose to do so in front of nearly the entire aristocracy of both North and South, complete with attentive witnesses, silent observers, and those who would enthusiastically reinvent the story during that evening's banquet. The grand hall of Ravenna Castle dissolved into a storm of whispers, startled gasps, and speculative glances.
Alessandro stood rigid, his jaw tightening in a way only his closest circle recognized as a sign of genuine fury. His expression remained composed, almost perfectly cold, yet beneath the surface his thoughts raged like a blizzard trapped behind mountain peaks. The image of the Ravenna heir, unshakable and always in control, had fractured within seconds.
And he despised that fact.
---
Elena stood not far from him, close enough to make Alessandro's chest tighten again, yet far enough to confirm that the ten meter limit was no longer theoretical. Her head felt light, the edges of her vision slightly unsteady, but she maintained the elegant posture ingrained into her since childhood. When a noble stared a moment too long, she offered a polite smile, as though dizziness were far too undignified a thing to display in public.
Internally, Elena counted her breaths. Heat and cold surged through her body in alternating waves, like two rivers colliding against one another. The sensation was deeply unpleasant, yet she would not, could not, lose her composure in a place like this.
"Lady Elena," whispered Isabella Caterina di Valenori as she approached, concern hidden behind a flawless aristocratic smile. "Are you quite well?"
"Perfectly," Elena replied softly, though her fingers trembled faintly. "Merely a minor side effect of an overly enthusiastic ritual."
Isabella cast a brief glance toward Alessandro before returning her gaze to Elena. "Enthusiastic is a remarkably generous choice of words."
---
Meanwhile, Alessandro could almost feel his reputation dissolving into the cold air of the hall. He did not need to hear the whispers directly. The expressions around him made everything painfully clear. The looks directed at him were no longer composed of pure respect, but tinged with an unwelcome curiosity.
"Did you see his expression?"
"Lord Ravenna looked startled."
"He stepped forward without thinking."
Each fragment of gossip felt like a fine scratch across polished marble, a surface he had spent years perfecting. For a fleeting moment, Alessandro considered squaring his shoulders even higher, then realized grimly that doing so would only invite further attention.
Giuliano, who was clearly enjoying the chaos, approached with unconcealed satisfaction. "I never knew you had a flair for drama," he remarked casually. "That instinctive step was very human of you."
"I did not react," Alessandro replied coldly.
Giuliano raised an eyebrow. "You nearly reached out. In the real world, that counts."
---
Leonardo stood nearby, his expression grave, as though mentally drafting a scholarly analysis on the collapse of noble composure. "This situation is dangerous," he said quietly. "Not only the curse itself, but how it will be perceived."
"I am aware," Alessandro snapped. "And I find it intolerable."
Chiara, who had somehow positioned herself at the best vantage point in the hall, smiled broadly. "Oh, this is delightful," she said without shame. "I can practically smell an aristocratic scandal forming."
Alessandro turned sharply toward her. "This is not a scandal."
"Not yet," Chiara replied cheerfully. "But give it an hour or two. Dinner conversations always accelerate imagination."
---
The elders swiftly decided to postpone further proceedings and escort the two central figures to a private drawing room. Unfortunately, the act of moving became complicated when a ten meter boundary dictated physical well being. Alessandro and Elena were forced to walk side by side, a sight that nearly made Chiara applaud aloud.
Alessandro's stride was swift and precise, as though speed might somehow erase the fact that he was walking beside Elena at all. Elena, for her part, adjusted her pace gracefully, carefully ensuring her gown did not brush against his mantle, a task made difficult by their restricted distance.
"Do you always walk as though you are leading an army?" Elena asked quietly, attempting to ease the suffocating silence.
"Usually, the army follows," Alessandro replied flatly. "They are not bound by curses."
Elena allowed herself a thin smile. "I shall endeavor not to step on your heels."
"Please do not," Alessandro responded. "These shoes are costly."
---
The drawing room was vast and cold, furnished with plush sofas that appeared more decorative than comfortable. Alessandro stood on one side, Elena on the other, both acutely aware of the distance between them. Each slight miscalculation was immediately punished by the familiar surge of fire and ice.
Elena lowered herself onto a sofa with care, her posture impeccable despite the dull ache in her head. Alessandro remained standing, as though sitting would imply weakness, an admission he refused to make.
Giuliano dropped onto a couch with ease. "Well," he said brightly, "this seems like an excellent moment to address the fact that you looked panicked in public."
"I was not panicked," Alessandro retorted.
Leonardo exhaled slowly. "Alessandro, you are gripping the chair as though you intend to destroy it."
Alessandro released his hand with deliberate indifference. "Coincidence."
---
Chiara approached Elena, her eyes alight with interest. "Lady Elena," she said warmly, "I feel compelled to inform you of something important."
Elena lifted her gaze. "Please do."
Chiara smiled wider. "You have just become the focal point of the Ravenna aristocracy."
Elena let out a quiet laugh, despite the persistent pressure at her temples. "That was not an achievement I aspired to."
"No one ever does," Chiara shrugged. "It happens only to those who are interesting."
Alessandro cleared his throat, visibly displeased by the turn of conversation. "This is nothing more than a ritual malfunction," he stated firmly, as though repeating it might make it true. "It carries no deeper implication."
Giuliano smirked. "Naturally. And I am merely here to enjoy the atmosphere."
---
When a servant entered carrying water and restorative tonics, the situation descended into further absurdity. He froze mid step, bewildered by the sight of two nobles positioned at such an odd distance, as though an invisible barrier divided the room. He nearly dropped the tray when Alessandro and Elena turned toward him at the same time.
"M my apologies, My Lord, My Lady," he stammered. "Where shall I place this?"
"In the center," Elena answered politely.
"Not precisely the center," Alessandro added quickly.
The servant blinked, then set the tray down with exaggerated care, as though handling volatile substances. Chiara covered her mouth, her shoulders trembling with barely restrained laughter.
---
After the servant departed, silence returned, heavier than before. Alessandro gazed out the window, struggling to quiet the storm of thoughts in his mind. He was angry at the ritual, at the elders, at the circumstances, but what troubled him most was the absence of a single clear target for his frustration.
Elena took a slow sip of water, then spoke. "I apologize," she said gently. "If this has damaged your reputation."
Alessandro turned toward her, clearly unprepared for the apology. "This is not your responsibility."
His voice remained cool, yet there was a pause, subtle but noticeable. "Still, the situation is undeniably unfavorable."
Elena smiled faintly. "In the South, we would call that a generous understatement."
For the first time that day, the corner of Alessandro's mouth twitched. It was not a smile, but it was close enough for Giuliano to release a low whistle.
---
"Well," Giuliano said with satisfaction, "this is progressing better than I anticipated."
Leonardo shook his head, though a hint of amusement softened his expression. "We must find a solution, and quickly."
Chiara folded her arms. "Until then, I suggest we prepare ourselves."
"For what exactly?" Alessandro asked sharply.
Chiara smiled with deliberate meaning. "For the reality that the cold heir of Ravenna and the graceful daughter of Fiorenza have just become the most captivating topic of this year."
Elena suppressed a laugh. Alessandro inhaled deeply, staring at the ceiling as though searching for additional patience.
Beyond the closed doors, whispers continued to spread, reputations subtly shifted, and fate once again delighted in the chaos it had orchestrated.