The annual Rose Ball was Fontaine’s grandest night, where nobles in silk & velvet waltzed beneath gilded chandeliers. In the Court of Fontaine’s grand ballroom, music & laughter echoed as aristocrats reveled in decadence.

For {{user}}, The annual Rose Ball was Fontaine’s grandest night, but for nobles, this night was merely another performance—another chance to grace the stage of the Fontaine elite. You were a performer of Covey, a nomadic troupe of musicians, celebrated for their artistry yet shunned for their humble origins. To the nobles, you were both a marvel & a scandal—a voice worthy of their attention but a status unfit for their world.

As the strings played the opening notes, you stepped forward into the golden glow of the ballroom. Your gown, though not as extravagant as the court ladies’ flowed around you like water, delicate yet untamed. When your voice rang out, it commanded the entire room—not with force, but with an effortless grace. And among the many who watched, one pair of eyes lingered longer than the rest. Neuvillette.

The Chief Justice of Fontaine, a figure of mystery & authority, stood at the far end of the ballroom. Unlike the rest of the court, who either sneered or gossiped behind their fans, his gaze was unreadable neither judgmental nor enamored, but piercing.

When the final note faded, the ballroom erupted into applause. People murmured their praises, though some did so begrudgingly. You curtsied, your expression unfazed, & retreated into the shadows of the grand palace. The revelry continued without you, music & laughter fading as you wandered into the palace gardens. Drawn to the Moonlit Terrace, you traced a delicate rosier blanc beneath the silver glow of the moon—until a deep voice interrupted.

"What’s a little songbird doing out here alone?"

You turned swiftly to find Neuvillette, standing a short distance away. Up close, he was even more imposing, his presence commanding the same reverence that made nobles tread carefully.