The Sunset Arrow – Arrival - Chapter 4

On the Continent of Sacred Cherry, the Coming-of-Age Ceremony is held for twenty-year-old. It’s much more than a simple milestone; it’s a massive social ball. While the primary purpose is to celebrate the young person coming of age, it also provides a crucial opportunity for the major families to forge alliances through marriage.
Aya’s ceremony was personally orchestrated by the Head of the Family.
“Even if our family’s standing is slowly eroding, we are still true nobles, and we must maintain appearances,” he insisted, his voice steady, his gaze firm.
The term “decline” referred to the family’s small size and its steadily diminishing influence. Aya was the last of her generation, with no siblings, and the few cousins they once had had tragically perished in various accidents.
Nevertheless, despite the fall in political power, the Jones family’s tremendous wealth still placed them at the very top of noble society. As the sole heir, Aya was, without question, the marriage prospect every other major family dreamed of securing.
“I hear Aya is the most beautiful woman in the Imperial Capital, did you know that?”
“Seriously? Couldn’t that just be gossip? She’s practically a recluse; who has actually seen her face?”
“Your guess is as good as mine, but honestly, I’m here just hoping to catch a glimpse of the goddess!”
In the expansive banqueting hall, the visiting guests were already buzzing with whispers, eagerly anticipating the main event’s entrance.
Fifteen minutes later, the grand chandeliers dimmed one by one, leaving only the soft illumination on the stage. Every head in the room turned in unison.
Aya slowly drifted into the center of the light. Her smooth, blue-silver hair flowed over her shoulders, the tips gently waved. A subtle touch of blush warmed her cheeks, and her lips were painted with a vibrant rose color. The flawless make-up only served to elevate her natural, striking beauty to something truly transcendent.
All eyes travelled downward. She wore a silver evening gown, shimmering with sequin accents, featuring a skirt with an elegant side opening, paired with white, pointed heels. The dress perfectly molded and presented her elegant figure to the crowd.
The room fell into absolute silence. The ineffable beauty of Aya, standing before them, was instantly and profoundly imprinted on every mind.
A stillness, like death, settled over the hall. Everyone held their breath, fearing that the slightest sound might shatter the magical illusion.
After a stunned moment, the noise returned—a roar even louder than when they had first entered!
“Someone pinch me, quick! Am I dreaming? Did a goddess just descend to earth?”
The man standing nearest to the speaker obligingly embraced his helpful duty and gave him a sharp squeeze.
“Agh! It’s real! Miss Aya truly is breathtaking!”
Throughout the remainder of the banquet, such breathless compliments were continuous.
Yet, detached from the celebratory din, a fair-haired, blue-eyed man stood in a corner, quietly observing the young woman on the stage. His expression was cold, but a subtle, hard-to-miss ripple of emotion crossed his eyes.
“Peculiar… Why does she feel so familiar?”
Aya spoke, her rosy lips parting, and her melodious voice effortlessly carried across the entire hall.
“Distinguished guests, please take your seats.”
That single instruction immediately quieted the excited crowd.
“Firstly, thank you all for gracing my Coming-of-Age Ceremony. Traditionally, the opening dance would be shared with my father, but as my parents are no longer with us, the Head of the Family will perform the opening dance in his stead. Once it is concluded, you are all free to enjoy the dinner.”
The Head of the Family rose and joined her on the stage. He was a handsome middle-aged man with sharp features and short blue hair—it was instantly obvious where Aya’s exceptional looks originated.
As the music swelled, the two began their graceful dance in the center of the floor. The stunning, picture-perfect sight caused the guests to hold their breaths and watch without blinking.
The opening dance ended, and the banquet opened up into free time.
While the guests were preoccupied exchanging greetings and socializing with the Head of the Family, Aya discreetly slipped behind the stage to share a pre-arranged meal with her Master.
Since she had no immediate plans for marriage, she naturally preferred to avoid the overly keen advances of the eager men. She wisely chose to remain out of sight, letting the Head of the Family manage the social crush for her.
Time moved on, and the banquet neared its end, preparing for the final tradition—the Closing Dance.
Aya stepped back onto the stage, her posture composed, her voice crystal clear: “Guests, inside the envelope that contained your invitation, you will find a number. I will now draw one gentleman to share the Closing Dance with me.”
A servant presented the ballot box to Aya on the stage.
“My dance partner is… Mr Ivis. Mr Ivis, please come forward to the dance floor.”
A stir went through the room. The other male guests scowled with obvious frustration, but the man who had been chosen showed absolutely no sign of pleasure.
“What…?” Ivis whispered, his brow deeply furrowed, as if the result was something he vehemently disliked.
The people around him, witnessing his reluctance, were practically seething with jealousy.
“Ivis? That name is strangely unfamiliar…” Aya looked at him curiously, feeling a nagging sense that she had met him before.
With an impassive expression, Ivis walked toward the circular fountain at the center of the hall.
They took each other’s hands lightly. As they rotated to the melody, their steps weaving together, the space between them constantly shifted.
Ivis had sharply chiseled features and a stern profile. Subtle, fleeting emotions glinted in his cold, emerald eyes. A faint, woody aroma radiated from him, surrounding Aya—like an isolated plum tree in a biting wind, proud and distant.
Aya felt a slight discomfort, her brow twitching at the physical proximity.
The song finished, and they simultaneously let go. The single dance was over, having felt as enchanting as a fairytale.