Adrian
I never cared for pomp, but duty had a way of dragging me into gilded cages. My father insisted I represent the family at Lord Henric's luncheon, a matter concerning trade routes and military supplies.
I didn't trust the man, actually I didn't trust anyone, not even my father.
Seraphina's uncle had a reputation for greed but I respected my father's command. I discovered her name was Seraphina after last night's encounter, I did a little research about her.
As I entered the marble hall, the scent of wine and polished wood filled my nose. Guests lounged about, laughing too loudly, their jeweled fingers clinking against crystal cups. The entire room felt like a performance of wealth, but beneath the veneer was something rotten, I could feel it in my bones.
I spotted her almost immediately. Seraphina, the girl from the inn. For a heartbeat, the room blurred around her. She stood at the far end, her dark hair pulled back, her gown a muted blue that should have softened her presence, but instead, it made her stand out.
Her eyes swept the crowd nervously, and for a moment, they collided with mine. Recognition flashed there, followed by something sharper, anger, maybe or confusion. My chest tightened at the memory of her drunken voice spilling secrets into the night, her small hand gripping my sleeve like she'd drown if she let go. I forced my expression into indifference, but it was a battle.
Henric greeted me with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Duke Adrian," he said, extending his hand. "Your father honors me by sending you in his stead. Shall we discuss our agreement?" His tone was oily, his words rehearsed.
I nodded curtly. "Business first," I said. "The sooner it is handled, the better."
We spoke briefly about land disputes and military supply lines, but Henric was more interested in parading his connections than solving problems. Each sentence dripped with self-importance, as though he was the emperor himself. My patience thinned, especially when his words slipped into jabs aimed at his niece.
"She should have been a queen, once," Henric said loudly, gesturing toward Seraphina as if she were a painting to be critiqued. "But fate is cruel. The prince found her lacking. Tragic, isn't it?"
Several nobles laughed into their cups. I kept my jaw tight, forcing neutrality, but inside, irritation coiled. His cruelty wasn't entertaining; it was petty.
I glanced at Seraphina, expecting her to crumble, but she only lifted her chin higher. The defiance in her posture startled me. She might have been humiliated, but she refused to be broken. I admired that, though I'd never admit it aloud.
When Henric introduced us formally, pretending we had never crossed paths before, her lips parted in shock. "Duke Adrian," she said, her tone controlled but her eyes burning.
I inclined my head. "Lady Seraphina." Neither of us acknowledged the truth in front of the crowd, but our shared secret hovered between us like smoke.
Later, when I slipped away to the balcony to escape the suffocating stench of flattery, I found her already there, gripping the railing.
"You," she said sharply, turning on me. "You vanished. No name, no trace. I thought I imagined you."
I leaned against the column, watching her. "You were drunk. I didn't think you'd remember me." Her glare could have cut glass.
"I remember enough. You let me believe you were just some stranger. Why hide?"
Her anger was sharp, but beneath it was hurt, and that disarmed me more than her words. I met her gaze steadily. "Because it was easier that way. You wanted someone who didn't know your name, your failures, your past. For one night, I gave you that."
She blinked, her hand trembling on the railing. "And now?"
I hesitated, then smirked faintly to mask the strange pull in my chest. "Now you know better."
She exhaled, her defiance wavering for a moment. I almost stepped closer, but footsteps behind us broke the moment apart. She turned away quickly, hiding whatever flicker had passed between us.
After a while we went back into the hall, the nobles had grown louder, gossip spilling like spilled wine. Whispers about Seraphina circled, cruel and cutting.
I noticed one man in particular, a baron with a lecherous grin watching her with far too much interest. My hands curled into fists at my side. It wasn't my place to care, yet something primal bristled inside me at the thought of him touching her.
I schooled my features into indifference, but my blood simmered. Seraphina seemed oblivious, lost in her own confusion, her hand twitching as if she felt something under her skin. She hid it well, but I saw the flicker of fear in her eyes. I didn't know why, but I wanted to.
Then Henric stood, raising his glass. "My honored guests," he boomed, his voice slicing through the chatter. "Today, we celebrate more than politics. Today, we celebrate my dear niece's future."
I frowned, exchanging wary glances with nearby nobles. This hadn't been mentioned in any of my father's letters.
Henric smiled proudly, his gaze flicking to Seraphina like a butcher presenting meat at market. "It pleases me to announce Lady Seraphina's engagement once again."
Gasps rippled through the room. The very man who had been leering at her stepped forward, smug and victorious. Seraphina's face went pale, her eyes widening in disbelief.
The hall erupted in murmurs, laughter, clinking glasses. Seraphina swayed slightly, her lips parting as though she couldn't breathe. Every instinct in me screamed to intervene, to rip her from this stage her uncle had forced her onto.
Instead, I stood frozen, my jaw tight, my pulse hammering. I hadn't noticed the deeper meaning of her unease, all I knew was that something inside me rebelled at the sight of her being handed to another man like currency.
For the first time in years, duty and
control wavered under the
weight of something I couldn't name.