Chapter 44

The banquet hall glittered with grandeur, a display of wealth meant to dazzle—and intimidate. Golden chandeliers bathed the room in a soft, warm glow, illuminating the nobles seated at the sprawling table. Their silk gowns and embroidered tunics were as polished as their smiles, yet the tension in the air was almost palpable. They watched me as if I were a rare bird, a curiosity brought here to entertain and intrigue.

I kept my posture straight, my chin lifted, playing my role as Lady Arin of Braam to perfection. I was the foreign envoy, the key to an alliance their kingdom desperately needed, and yet I was also the interloper—an outsider to be dissected and doubted. Let them look. Let them wonder. The sapphire gown I wore shimmered when I shifted, the jewels at my throat catching the light as I reached for my goblet. The mask I wore tonight was flawless, but behind it, I was calculating my every mov.

Across the table, Prince Lucian leaned forward, his eyes sharp and far too perceptive. He had been studying me all evening, his questions carefully veiled behind charm, but I could sense the trap in each one. Rowan's brother was far too clever for his own good, and the way he smiled—like a predator toying with its prey—set my teeth on edge.

"You've spoken much of your country’s vast agricultural wealth, Lady Arin," he said smoothly, his voice carrying just enough curiosity to make it seem innocent. "And of the benefits your trade routes will bring. But I find myself wondering—what, precisely, does your homeland expect in return for such generosity?"

The room stilled. Utensils paused mid-motion, goblets frozen halfway to lips. He had drawn blood, or at least the court thought so. My heart thudded once in my chest, but outwardly, I didn't flinch. Instead, I smiled faintly and set my goblet down with deliberate ease.

"Generosity?" I repeated, tilting my head ever so slightly, as if amused. "I would not call it that, Your Highness. Alliances are rarely formed on kindness. Wouldn't you agree?"

"I think you should ask what our kingdom can do for yours instead. After all, I am here on an invitation by your King."

A polite chuckle rippled through the room, though it was tinged with discomfort. I saw the flicker of amusement in Lucian's eyes, but his smile didn't falter. He was hunting now, circling closer.

"True enough," he said, inclining his head. "But I imagine there's something more to your visit. After all, Braam has long been known for its... independence. We have not seen an emissary in Braam enter these lands in decades. Forging an alliance now, of all times, seems... curious."

His tone was light, but his meaning was anything but. I felt the weight of every gaze on me, each one waiting for my response. He wanted to unravel me, to draw out the real reason for my motives and leave them bare for all to see. I couldn't let that happen.

"Curious times call for unity, do they not?" I said lightly, lifting my goblet once more. "My country seeks strength in partnership, and your country has potential. Stability. Security. A king who, despite his sudden rise to power, has shown great promise."

I let my words hang in the air, deliberately glancing at Rowan, who sat at the head of the table. He'd been quiet all night, watching me like a hawk. The muscle in his jaw tightened ever so slightly, a flicker of irritation breaking through his composed mask. It was subtle, but I saw it. And a part of me—reckless, foolish—felt a thrill of satisfaction.

"Promise?" Lucian echoed, his brows lifting in mock surprise. "Not really a compliment, wouldn't you say?"

The tension in the room thickened, a weight pressing down on us all. I liked just how uncomfortable they all were. I leaned forward, resting my hands lightly on the table, and let my smile widen just enough to carry an edge.

"On the contrary, Your Highness," I said, my voice still soft but laced with steel. "Promise is the foundation of greatness. Though, I imagine the weight of the crown thrust upon one so unexpectedly can be... burdensome. Especially the circumstances surrounding the King's personal life. I heard he was only reinstated as Crown Prince a few months ago and then the King dies. Suspicious isn't it?"

I didn't need to look at Rowan to feel the reaction ripple through him. The sound of his fork clattering against his plate cut through the room like a blade. All eyes turned to him, but he didn't speak. He didn't need to. The simmering anger in his eyes was enough.

I held his gaze, refusing to back down. My heart pounded in my chest, but I kept my expression serene, as if I hadn't just questioned the king's capability to rule. It was dangerous—reckless, even—but I couldn't stop myself. He had been thrust into his role so abruptly, hadn't he? Just a few months ago he had reclaimed his position as the Crown Prince and now he was King. Surely even he doubted himself. And I couldn't help it. I loved seeing the anger on his face, a small fraction of the pain I had to face when I realised he had moved on without me.

The rest of the banquet passed in a haze of tension, every glance and every word carrying unspoken weight. By the time the final course was served, my nerves were frayed, though I refused to let it show. As the nobles began to rise and drift away, I excused myself under the pretense of fatigue, eager to escape the stifling air of the banquet hall.

The faint glow of torchlight casting long shadows along the stone walls. I let out a slow breath as I walked, trying to ease the tightness in my chest. But the reprieve was short-lived.

I felt him before I saw him—the weight of his presence pressing down on me like a storm cloud. I turned, my heart quickening as Rowan stepped from the shadows, his expression thunderous.

"Lady Arin," he said, his voice low and cold. Not a greeting. A warning.

"Your Majesty," I replied, keeping my tone light. "Shouldn't you be entertaining your guests?"

His eyes narrowed, and he stepped closer, his movements sharp and deliberate. "You're not nearly as clever as you think you are."

I arched a brow, folding my arms across my chest. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."

His jaw clenched, and for a moment, I thought he might actually lose his temper. "You spoke of my crown as though it were a burden too heavy for me to bear. Is that what Braam thinks? That I am unfit to rule?"

I smirked, though my pulse thundered in my ears. "I believe my exact words were that the crown was thrust upon you unexpectedly. Hardly an insult, Your Majesty."

"You knew what you were doing," he growled, his voice dropping lower. "You wanted to make me doubt myself in front of my court."

I tilted my head, my smirk widening. "If that's how you perceived it, perhaps the doubt already exists."

His eyes darkened, and before I could react, he stepped closer, the sheer intensity of his presence swallowing the air between us. "Careful," he warned, his voice rough. "You might find that provoking me is not in your best interest."

I lifted my chin, defiance sparking in my chest. "And you might find that I'm not as easily intimidated as the rest of your court."

The air between us crackled, thick with tension. His gaze burned into mine, fury mingling with something deeper—something far more dangerous. For a moment, I thought he remembered me. For a moment, I thought he might close the distance entirely, that the anger between us might combust into something else entirely. But then he stepped back, his jaw tight and his eyes smoldering.

"You are hiding something," he said, his voice quieter now, more deliberate. "I don't know what game you're playing, but I will uncover the truth."

"And when you do?" I asked, my voice soft but steady. "What then, Your Majesty?"

He didn't answer. His silence was heavy, charged with meaning, and when his gaze flickered to my lips, just for a fraction of a second, my stomach twisted.

"I'll see you brought to heel," he said at last, his tone icy, though his eyes betrayed him.

I smiled faintly, though it didn't reach my eyes. "Good luck with that."

And with that, I turned and walked away, my heart pounding as I felt his gaze lingering on my back. This wasn't over. Not by a long shot.