Marchmont Marquis's Mansion, Royal Capital.
Though it was late autumn, a Magic Array buried underground continuously channeled heat into the ballroom, keeping it as warm as the height of summer.
The light from the crystal chandeliers shone mercilessly upon every inch of the polished marble floor, and upon the ladies' glistening necks and sparkling jewels.
The ladies' gowns boldly embraced the heatwave.
Silk and light gauze, as thin as a cicada's wing, clung to their elegant figures, while plunging necklines revealed vast expanses of alabaster skin.
The clinking of silver goblets and the string music of the band wove together, creating the background sounds of the high-society salon.
Lilia followed behind Marchioness Audrey, the hem of her dress swaying gently with her steps.
