Unraveling Eris

Dressed to Distress

Eris was nothing if not stubborn.

For the next three days, she upheld her silent treatment against Theo with the kind of unwavering commitment usually reserved for academic pursuits and, in Cassian's case, his obsession with tailoring critiques.

At meals, she conveniently found reasons to sit between Georgiana and Cassian, leaving Theo to his own devices. During class discussions, she answered questions with a level of detail so thorough that it left no room for Theo's usual interjections.

Even during their shared study breaks, she managed to engage only with Georgiana, ignoring Theo's occasional dry remarks as though he were nothing more than an inconvenient draft of wind.

Theo, of course, was not the type to beg for attention. If anything, he seemed more entertained by her effort than inconvenienced, his smirk growing every time she pointedly turned away.

Cassian and William, meanwhile, had wisely chosen to stay out of it, though Cassian did murmur once, "You know he enjoys this, right?" to which Eris had responded with a sharp glare.

Then, finally, the day of the gala arrived.

Eris had resigned herself to borrowing one of Georgiana's dresses—something simple and elegant, though still leagues above anything she owned. She was in the midst of debating which gown would fit best when a knock sounded at Georgiana's chamber doors.

She sighed, casting a critical eye over the fabrics spread before her. As someone who was a little fuller in figure, finding the right dress had always been a battle of compromise.

Too often, dresses in her size were either made from stretchable materials that clung too tightly in places she'd rather not emphasize, or they were designed with dangerously revealing cuts under the assumption that a fuller shape meant a willingness to be bold.

Neither suited Eris.

She preferred elegance over excess, grace over gaudiness. But options were limited.

Georgiana, of course, had no such concerns. The moment she opened the door, she stepped aside to reveal her friend, who took one look at Eris—half-draped in fine fabrics with an expression of mild suffering—and smirked.

"Having a crisis, are we?" She teased, stepping inside.

Eris shot her a glare. "Not all of us can get away with throwing on a coat and calling it a day."

Eris pinched the bridge of her nose, inhaling sharply. "Georgie, I swear if you hand me anything with a neckline that plunges to my stomach—"

"Then you'll have no choice but to own it." Georgiana grinned, holding up a deep crimson gown with an off-shoulder cut, a daring neckline, and a high slit running up one side.

Eris stared at it, horrified. "This... this is the only option?"

Georgiana nodded solemnly.

"Unfortunately, yes. Everything else is either too tight, too loose, or simply unwearable. This one fits you like a glove."

Eris groaned, dragging a hand down her face. "Of course it does. Latex gloves."

"I don't see the problem. You'll turn every head in the room."

"That is precisely the problem," Eris muttered.

Georgiana placed a hand on her hip. "Oh, come on, Eris. You always hide behind layers and modest cuts. For once, let people see what's beneath all that wit and strategy."

Eris shot her a flat look. "You mean skin?"

Georgiana chuckled. "You're overthinking this. The moment you walk into that ballroom, no one's going to care what you're wearing."

Eris arched a brow. "And why's that?"

"Because when you speak, Eris, people listen. The dress is just an accessory—you're the one they'll remember."

Eris sighed, eyeing the gown again. It was undeniably elegant, the deep red complementing her complexion, the fabric flowing like liquid silk. It was bold. Unapologetic. It made a statement—one she wasn't sure she was ready to make.

But she had no choice.

"...Fine," she grumbled. "But if I catch either of you enjoying my suffering, I'm spilling wine on you."

Georgiana clapped her hands together. "Oh, this is going to be fun."

The drive to the palace was uneventful, though Eris's thoughts were anything but.

She had been to the palace once before, years ago, when her father was honored for his scholarly contributions. Back then, she had been a wide-eyed child clinging to the edges of the grand hall, marveling at the sheer magnificence of it all. But now, standing at the entrance once more, the palace felt even grander—more intimidating.

Golden chandeliers illuminated the towering columns, casting a warm glow over the arriving guests. The marble floors gleamed under the soft candlelight, reflecting the grandeur of a world Eris had only ever observed from a distance. Nobles in lavish gowns and embroidered suits moved with the ease of those born into privilege, their laughter lilting through the air like an exclusive melody.

She suddenly felt out of place.

Maybe this was a mistake.

Maybe she should—

"Eris, you'll be fine." Georgiana gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before her eyes flickered toward the far side of the room, lighting up at the sight of William.

"I should go say hello."

Eris barely had time to react before Georgiana had already slipped away, making a beeline toward him with effortless grace.

And just like that, Eris was alone.

Her heart pounded against her ribs.

She glanced around, desperate to find a familiar face, but all she saw were nobles moving in tight, well-practiced clusters.

Elegant couples swayed to the music, silk and satin swirling as they danced under the golden chandeliers. Laughter rang through the air, refined and polished—just like the people it belonged to.

None of them hesitated. None of them looked unsure.

Unlike her.

Her breaths grew shallow as she took a step back, fingers clenching into the fabric of her dress.

She didn't belong here.

She could feel the weight of passing glances, the way people studied her from the corners of their eyes. They weren't whispering—yet—but she knew they would. They always did.

She wasn't a noble heiress. She wasn't the daughter of some powerful duke. She was just Eris, a scholar's daughter who had spent years trying to claw her way into a world that barely acknowledged her existence.

And now, standing in the heart of it, she felt like an imposter.

Her vision blurred at the edges. Her chest tightened, her breath coming in quick, uneven gasps.

She had to leave.

Now.

Before anyone saw her fall apart.

She turned on her heel, but before she could take another step, a firm hand caught her wrist.

Eris froze.

Slowly, she turned back, only to be met with Theo's sharp, knowing gaze.

His fingers loosened, but he didn't let go. Instead, he studied her, taking in the rigid line of her shoulders, the slight tremor in her breath.

For once, he wasn't smirking.

He wasn't amused.

"Well, we can't have you running away now, can we?"

Before she could react, his firm yet effortless hand settled at her waist, guiding her forward with practiced ease.

"Your Highness," she hissed, startled.

"What are you—"

"Escorting you," he said smoothly, not even sparing her a glance as he nodded at the passing nobles in greeting. His grip on her was light, but there was no mistaking the authority in it—he wasn't letting her go.

Eris shot Georgiana a desperate look, but her so-called best friend merely smiled in amusement and twirled off with William to greet his parents, leaving her at the mercy of the Crown Prince.

"This is unnecessary," she muttered, forcing herself to keep up with his long strides.

"It's entirely necessary," Theo countered, finally turning to look at her with a lazy smirk.

"You were seconds away from fleeing like a startled rabbit."

Eris scowled. "I was not."

He hummed, clearly unconvinced. "You really ought to work on your poker face."

She opened her mouth to retort, but he smoothly continued, "Besides, this saves me the trouble of hunting you down later. We might as well get this over with."

Eris narrowed her eyes. "Get what over with?"

Theo tilted his head, his eyes flickering over her face before drifting lower—to the dress she had desperately wished wasn't the only one that fit. The plunging neckline, the scandalous slit. The way the silk clung to her curves, making her feel even more exposed under the weight of scrutinizing eyes.

He had never looked at her like that before.

Eris braced herself for a teasing remark, something careless and arrogant, but instead, Theo exhaled and said, "You look..." He paused, almost reluctant, before settling on, "Different."

Eris raised an eyebrow. "Different?"

Theo's lips pressed together as if debating his next words. "Not in a bad way although it is bad in a way."

Eris crossed her arms. "Wow, what a compliment. I look 'not in a bad way.' Truly, I'm flattered."

That earned her a faint smirk. There he was.

"If it helps, you're currently causing a crisis," he murmured, glancing around the room. "Half the men don't know where to look, and half the women want to kill you."

Eris stiffened, scanning the crowd with a sharp eye. Sure enough, she caught glimpses of subtle glares and poorly concealed whispers.

She cursed under her breath. "This is exactly what I wanted to avoid."

Theo chuckled. "And yet here you are, looking like you belong at the center of it."

She scoffed. "I don't."

His gaze sharpened. "You do."

Something in his tone made her stomach flip. But before she could dissect it, Theo suddenly extended his hand.

"Come."

Eris blinked. "Come where?"

"To dance."

She almost laughed. "No, thank you."

Theo didn't move. "You'll be fine."

Eris hesitated, glancing around again.

People were still looking. Still whispering.

If she stayed frozen like this, they'd talk even more.

And Theo... he was standing there like a lifeline, steady and sure, as if daring her to take it.

After a long pause, she sighed.

The moment her hand slipped into his, his fingers curled around hers, warm and solid.

And just like that, he led her onto the dance floor, right into the eye of the storm.

As they walked deeper into the grand hall, Eris found herself unable to focus on anything but the sheer number of eyes subtly watching them. Or rather, watching him.

Theo was, after all, the Crown Prince. Every move he made was analyzed, whispered about, and scrutinized. Which meant—by extension—so was she.

They finally reached the main ballroom, where a herald was preparing to announce arrivals.

Theo leaned in slightly, just enough for his breath to ghost against her ear.

"Smile, Eris," he murmured, voice rich with amusement. "You don't want people thinking I dragged you here against your will."

Eris clenched her jaw, resisting the urge to stomp on his foot.

Oh, she was going to kill him.

But later.

Preferably somewhere with fewer witnesses.