Warm laughter floated up the crystal chandeliers of the hall. Its light illuminated the whole place in a dreamy shade of Golden. Wind rushed in from the high windows, filling the air with a scent of lavender. The crystals occasionally swayed and gently clinked into one another.

Aiden swirled the Golden nectar in his goblet. The color so rich, he could see his own reflection in it. He adjusted his collar for what seemed like the hundredth time.

How did these elves look so perfect? His hairs looked like a black bird nest. He leaned back against a pillar, it’s cool was seeping into him.

Brigid stood beside him. Her white dress shimmered under the warm glow like stardust. Glinting pearls folded their way delicately into her intricate braid. Curls escaped from the sides, framing her face.

She fiddled with the folds of her dress, a nervous habit Aiden had picked up on. She had been quiet the whole evening as if the weight of her dress pressed down her emotions.

“Oh, Brigid my deeear!” A voice cooed through the crowd, syrupy and lilting.

Brigid’s jaw tightened at the sound of it.

An elf with shiny silver hair waltzed her way through the crowd, with a couple of other companions, all dressed in glittering golds. The nauseating scent of her perfume hit him even before she approached them.

"My my! Don’t you look like a beautiful gem?” She continued, oblivious to the storm brewing in front of her.

This _had_ to be Lady Evaline.

“Why, what a fine evening, Lady Evaline.” Brigid pushed out the words through gritted teeth.

She reached forward and cupped Brigid’s face. Brigid took a sharp breath. Her smile tightened. Aiden shifted his weight from one foot to another, unsure whether to step in.

Lady Evaline's eyes lingered on her, a second too long. . “Why, you’re such a spitting image of your mother! The hair, the smile…”

Aiden noticed Brigid’s shoulders stiffen. He had to get her out of there. But what would he say? Lady Evaline would just dismiss him with her syrupy laugh. Brigid would ask him to stay out of it too. But standing there doing nothing and watching Brigid dig her nails into the fabric felt so... _wrong_.

“It’s as if she was here right with us!” One of Lady Evaline’s companions laughed, her voice dripping with bitter sweetness.

"Oh, I recall Elowen commanding everyone's attention the moment she entered the room." another tilted her head as she smirked. "She was hard to miss."

Brigid's smile wavered. Her shoulders trembled holding her composure. It was as if every inch of her body screamed one word: _Enough_

Aiden saw it. Her facade was cracking, and fast.

His grip tightened around his goblet. Blood rushed into his ears, bubbling with frustration. Were these nobles truly oblivious to how much they were hurting her? Or worse, did they just not care?

That's when it hit him. _This_ is why Brigid didn't want to come here in the first place. Guilt smacked him in the face for not realizing it sooner.

He fiddled with his sleeves and took a deep breath. He had to say something. Anything.

"Uhh... Excuse m-"

“Now if that isn’t Elowen's daughter!”

Aiden really wished he could be the Blue Tree (or wingman). He pictured himself raining shimmery blue leaves on Lady Evaline and her entourage, occasionally dropping branches. Especially on the last one.

Another elderly elf strode her way toward them, a glass of nectar in one hand, grappling the folds of her robes in the other. Its Magenta hue shone under the golden light. Her eyes danced between Brigid and Lady Evaline.

"You remind me of-"

"_Excuse Me._” Brigid hitched.

She smacked away Lady Evaline's hands and pushed through her companions. She stormed across the hall. Her footsteps quick and sharp. Clashing against the cold marble floor.

“Hey, wait up!” Aiden scrambled after her, occasionally bumping into a few surprised nobles, muttering apologies.