Chapter 32 - Can we leave?

EMMA

The palace is buzzing and servants are running around the corridor. They move through the hallways in swarms. Hadrian said we had to attend a formality, but he didn’t elaborate what the formality entailed.

Hadrian has not said a word to me since the restaurant and it feels stupid to say something now. We walk in silence to the palace entrance. In front of the palace is a raised platform, surrounded by seats. There are more people walking around. Older men in suits and women in expensive dresses. They all look like supermodels and again I feel out of place in the mass of strangers.

Hadrian is wearing royal garments that are fitted for a crown prince. Golden threat shows his rank as general and his status as the crown prince.

I spot a familiar face in the crowd. Miles and Callum are lined up in a row of guards. I send Miles a smile and feel an arm wrap around my waist and I gasp.

Hadrian leans in to whisper in my ear. “What are you doing, *sweetheart*?”

I can feel my traitorous body heat up again. “Is this necessary?” I ask and I try to put some space between us.

“Yes it is.” His grip only tightens around me. “People here think that I was so madly in love with a human that I dared to defy the expectations of my father. What will they think when they see you smiling at other men?”

I look around and find several eyes on us. Eyes filled with mock, confusion and ridicule. I guess I didn’t really think this part through.

Hadrian lets go of me, but my face is still burning. He keeps a distance as he guides me further down the square and towards the seats. There is a group of men all dressed in similar suits talking to each other. Some have golden insignias embroidered on the fabric. One of them is a lot younger and could be in his early twenties. He has three golden stripes on his suit.

His chestnut hair is smoothed back and his hazel eyes are sly. He has a charming smile with a perfect row of white teeth. His posture is laid back as he rests his hands in the pockets of his trousers. I notice several women sneaking glances at him with their battering eyelashes. He commands the attention around him and the older men laugh at what he has to say. His gaze is drawn away from the men and meets mine. I feel my cheeks burn for having been caught staring.

I turn my eyes away and find Hadrian staring at me with narrowed eyes.

“Hadrian, how surprising to see you here.” A slick voice says and I turn to see that it is the man who I was watching earlier.

“Marius.” Hadrian says through gritted teeth.

The man seems unaffected by the obvious hostility in Hadrian’s voice. The man turns to me and reaches out his hand. “This must be our future Luna then.”

I shake his hand and his touch sends a chill over my spine and makes the hairs on my body stand up.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Marius. *Captain* of the royal army.” He says, emphasizing his title.

He is dressed in the similar uniform of the rest of the soldiers, and his gold insignias show his higher rank. He is no general, but definitely acts like it.

“Hi, I’m Emma.”

Marius chuckles as if it’s funny that I talk. “I know Emma, everybody knows.”

I purse my lips and I don’t think I like him. There is something I don’t trust about him. And not just because he’s a werewolf.

Marius finally stops shaking my hand and I pull away from him.

“Excuse my bluntness, but is it true that you sleep separately? There are so many rumors going on.”

I feel my cheeks flush again and I’m sure it reaches my elbows this time.

My hesitation must have said enough. His eyes shine with eagerness and he shakes his head in a mocking manner. He turns his attention to Hadrian. “Always lacking isn’t he? I’m surprised your father would let you attend at all.” He says.

Hadrian tenses beside me and I frown. I don’t like bullies. Actually I hate bullies. They are petty and ugly.

“Especially after last time you attended.” Marius continues.

Every cell in Hadrian’s body seems to vibrate and I can feel it like its my own body. He is close to losing it.

Marius sends me a charming smile and winks.

I turn my body towards Hadrian and take his hand in mine. “Can we leave?” I don’t know what the protocol is, but walking away from a high-ranking member of the army is probably not it.

The tension in Hadrian’s body seems to flow away. His eyes are slightly widened and he nods. He places his hand on my lower back and guides me away from Marius.

“It was nice to meet you, Emma.”

I freeze and turn only my head. “I cannot say the same and I do believe it is Princess Emma.”

When we walk away I notice that there is a smirk on Hadrian’s face and I raise an eyebrow at him. “What?”

Hadrian shakes his head. “Nothing, just most people seem to really like Marius.” He guides me to a row of seats. The seats in this row seem more exuberant than the rest.

“I’m not most people Hadrian.” I say as I sit down.

Hadrian sits down next to me and I notice that the seat next to him looks even more elaborate, and looks more like a throne. A realization dawns on me and the temperature around me rises. My heart picks up speed.

*The Alpha King is coming too.*

I’ve spent eleven days in the home of my enemy. In those eleven days, I’ve yet to encounter the baddest of them all.

“Prince Hadrian, I see you brought your mate.” A low drawling voice says.

I turn to find the Alpha King looking at me. He has salt and pepper hair and stern lines in the set of his mouth. I expected him to be younger. His penetrating amber eyes make me shrink down in my seat.

I cast my eyes to the ground. I hate that I’m terrified of him. I hate what he has done. He is the culprit of it all. Not Cecile, not Miles, not Callum, not Morana and not Hadrian.

The realization shifts something inside me. As if I watch the world through different eyes. Well, not completely different, but different nonetheless. Justin’s words make more sense now. I have to know who my real enemy is.

I notice that Hadrian has his fists balled while he talks with his father. His body is as tense as mine. Something has him on edge, but he’s holding himself back. It’s strange that I can read him, even though I don’t really know him.

There is a scar line peeking out of his collar. From my point of view, one could think that he had a minor accident. But it’s just the tip of the iceberg. He has suffered. I didn’t realize it before, but he has definitely suffered.

The crowd seems to quiet down and the air around me charges with anticipation. Anticipation for something. I feel restless, consumed by fear and nausea. I take a deep breath and try to swallow down these feelings. I don’t know where they are coming from. It’s like they’re not even mine.

Two guards drag a man on the platform. The man is clearly weathered and beaten up. They pull him forward by chains and the man cries out with every tug. I gasp when I see the burns of silver on his wrists. They are so bad that his skin is gone and the only thing left is bleeding flesh.

*What kind of sick entertainment do they have here? Are they all sadists that like watching the pain of others?*

I feel my stomach turn and a tremble starts in my hand. I’ve never been sick around blood or wounds, but now my stomach roils.

Another soldier walks up to the platform with a rope that shines in the fading sunlight. He wears thick leather gloves, just like the other two guards.

“For your treason, you shall receive one hundred silver whips.”

*Silver whips?* I tear my eyes from the scene in front of me to look at Hadrian. *This must be fake right?*

There are sweat beads clustering at his temple. This man who tore a bathroom door out of its hinges without a problem is now sweating bullets. I don’t see the first lash of the whip, but I hear the sharp crack in the air and the scream of the man. Hadrian is pale white and can’t hide the wince in his shoulders. *He is not okay.*

I cover his fist with my hand and his gaze finds mine. Fear. Pure, unadulterated fear is laced in his eyes and I feel my heart constrict. Tears start to brim in my eyes, because I know what is happening. I have seen it so many times, lived through it so many times.

He’s reliving it. He’s reliving his nightmare, like I have relived mine.

At one moment in time. Hadrian was the receiver at the end of that whip. And he has the scars to prove it.

The sound of the crashing whip continues and the scream of the man never stops. I hold Hadrian’s gaze. I tighten my hold around his fist and he takes a deep breath. My touch seems to calm him down, just like it did before.

I want to deny that there is a bond between us. I want to forget that he ever marked me, but I can’t. Because I can feel the connection between us. *I can feel his fears.*