The ball did not end with the dances. It spilled into supper, into endless toasts, into corridors perfumed with wine and ambition. Servants hurried with trays of candied fruits, goblets of honeyed mead, silver dishes gleaming. Everywhere Seraphina turned, eyes followed her — measuring, weighing, whispering.
She felt the weight of her crown-to-be pressing down already.
Lucien remained by her side, patient and dignified, his voice a balm against the swirl of courtiers. He introduced her to dukes and counts, to merchant lords and generals. She smiled when expected, curtsied when required, answered questions with carefully measured grace.
And yet she felt Adrien's gaze like a chain around her throat.
Even across the hall, even with Evelyne at his arm, she knew when he was watching. Every time she dared glance up, she found his eyes waiting, dark and unyielding.
---
"Lady Seraphina."
The voice was smooth, feminine, edged with silk-wrapped steel.
She turned. Princess Evelyne stood before her, crimson skirts trailing like spilled wine, jewels blazing at her throat. Her beauty was undeniable, her poise flawless. But it was her eyes — green, sharp as daggers — that held Seraphina still.
"Your Highness," Seraphina murmured, dipping her head. "It is an honor."
"The honor is mine," Evelyne said sweetly, though the smile on her lips did not reach her gaze. "I had hoped to speak with you before tonight, but the court has been… bustling." She extended her hand, and Seraphina, bound by custom, accepted it briefly. Evelyne's fingers lingered, too firm, too deliberate.
"You danced beautifully," Evelyne continued, voice lilting. "The crown prince is fortunate to have found such grace in his future bride."
Seraphina forced a polite smile. "You are kind."
"And Prince Adrien…" Evelyne's eyes flickered, just for a breath. "He danced with you as well, did he not?"
Seraphina's heart stilled. For an instant, the world seemed to tilt, the chandeliers above swaying like ships on storm waves.
"Yes," she said carefully. "Briefly. A courtesy to his brother's betrothed."
"Of course." Evelyne's smile sharpened, though her voice remained honey-smooth. "My fiancé has always been… attentive to duty."
Her fiancé.
The words struck harder than Seraphina expected. She had known, of course. She had seen them together. And yet hearing Evelyne claim him aloud was like tasting ash.
Evelyne leaned closer, lowering her voice so only Seraphina could hear. "The court adores its spectacles, Lady Seraphina. But one must take care. Dances can be misread. Gazes, even more so."
Her breath was warm against Seraphina's ear, her words soft as silk and sharp as glass.
Then, with a smile as radiant as any painted saint, Evelyne drew back. "Welcome to the palace," she said brightly, before gliding away on Adrien's arm.
---
Seraphina's chest burned.
Lucien, oblivious, spoke to a duke about grain taxes. Nobles laughed, wine spilled, music swelled once more. But all Seraphina could hear was Evelyne's voice, echoing like a blade against stone.
Dances can be misread. Gazes, even more so.
Her fingers tightened on her goblet. She told herself it was nothing. That Adrien meant nothing. That Evelyne had only sought to unsettle her.
And yet—
When Adrien glanced back over his shoulder, his eyes locking with hers as Evelyne laughed at his side, the truth struck her like lightning.
It was not misread.
It was not mistake.
It was a fire that refused to die.
---
Later, when the crowd thinned and the feast dwindled into midnight whispers, Adrien found her again. Not with words this time, but with presence.
She stood alone by the balcony doors, catching her breath, the cool night air brushing her face. And then he was there, silent, standing too close.
"You should not let Evelyne rattle you," he murmured at last, his tone low, intimate.
Her throat tightened. "And you should not give her reason to."
He smiled, slow, dangerous. "Perhaps I already have."
Her heart twisted, torn between fury and longing. "You are playing with fire, Adrien."
"Good," he said softly, his gaze burning into hers. "Let it burn."