The music had resumed, but the mood in the hall had shifted. Where laughter had once been bold, it now curled into hushed whispers. The nobles no longer dared to glance openly at the Dragon Prince. Instead, their eyes flickered toward the maid who had brought the night to a standstill.
Daya Roman.
She stood frozen at the edge of the hall, her tray shaking in her hands. Her cheek still burned where Princess Rosa had struck her. She wanted to disappear into the floor, to flee, but her duties chained her in place.
Every step she took after that moment felt heavier, each noble's smirk cutting her deeper than Rosa's slap.
"Clumsy little fool…" someone whispered.
"Did you see the Prince defend her?" another murmured.
"Unthinkable… for a maid."
The words wrapped around her like thorns.
From her gilded seat, Princess Rosa's fingers clenched into the folds of her crimson gown. Rage burned in her chest, but she forced her lips into a brittle smile. She could not show her fury before the court — not yet. But her eyes followed Daya like a predator marking prey.
The Dragon Prince had humiliated her.
And that maid… that nobody… had been the cause.
Rosa's jaw tightened. She will pay for this.
At the high table, Vanda said little for the rest of the night. His expression remained as hard as stone, but his silence carried weight. None dared disturb him. Yet beneath his calm exterior, something stirred — the image of wide, frightened eyes that had met his own for only a heartbeat.
He should not care. It was nothing.
And yet, it did not leave him.
When the last song ended and the nobles drifted away, Daya slipped quietly out of the hall. She hurried through the servant corridors, her heart hammering, fear chasing her every step.
She knew what awaited her. Servants who embarrassed nobles were rarely forgiven. The princess's wrath was dangerous. And Rosa would not forget tonight.
Still, when she reached the small room she shared with her frail mother, she forced a smile as she sat by the bedside.
"I'm fine, Mama," she whispered, brushing a strand of hair from the older woman's face. "Just a long night."
But deep inside, dread coiled tighter.
Far above, in the guest chambers prepared for him, Prince Vanda removed his stained cloak. His hand lingered briefly on the fabric — then tightened. His thoughts should have been on diplomacy, on his journey, on the duties of a Dragon Prince.
Instead, against his will, his mind returned to the trembling maid and the fire in Rosa's eyes.
A storm was coming.