The energy in the grand hall shifts. A ripple of whispers spreads through the crowd, heads turning toward the entrance.
Madam Jessy has arrived.
She strides in like she owns the place, elegance wrapped in confidence, her escort beside her, a strikingly handsome man, younger than her by at least a decade. There's something deliberately provocative about her presence, the way she holds herself, the smirk playing on her lips as if she already knows the gossip she's about to stir.
I watch as she makes her way through the sea of nobles and dignitaries, offering nods and smiles that don't quite reach her eyes. And then she spots us; Cassian and me.
She doesn't hesitate.
"Well, well," she says smoothly, stopping before us. Her gaze flicks between Cassian and me, curiosity and mischief glinting in her eyes. "You both clean up nicely."
I rise to embrace her, warmth in my smile, but beneath it, my instincts hum.
I'm sensing; Madam Jessy's arrival is without a reason.
And whatever it is, it's about to change the course of this night.
The queen, seated at the center of the grand celebration, basks in adoration. She is surrounded by dignitaries, noblewomen, and palace elites, their laughter and murmurs of praise feeding her ego. Before her, a dazzling display of wealth; exquisite jewels, sealed envelopes heavy with cash, priceless artifacts, piles up, each one a carefully curated offering to remain in her good graces.
I sip my wine, watching the spectacle unfold. If Cassian had bothered to inform me earlier that I'd be attending, I would have at least brought a gift. But maybe that was the point—to catch me off guard, to remind me that I was still playing a game I never signed up for.
The banquet is a masterpiece. Exquisite dishes flow endlessly, the scent of roasted meats and rare spices filling the air. Goblets are never empty, and a live orchestra plays haunting, enchanting melodies that seem to slow time itself. The chandeliers cast a golden glow over the hall, making everything look almost dreamlike.
Cassian moves through the crowd effortlessly, a perfect son of the throne. He exchanges pleasantries with the council, jokes with noblemen, and shakes hands with old friends. But no matter who he speaks to, no matter where he stands, his gaze always finds its way back to me.
There's something different tonight; a silent claim in his eyes. A possessiveness that wasn't there before.
And I can't decide if that's a good thing.
I barely have time to process it when Lord Edric approaches my table.
"Princess Celeste," he greets smoothly, raising his goblet. "You and the prince seem to be... waking up."
I raise a brow at his light amusement. Waking up?
"Yes, we are," I retort, my tone neutral but sharp.
Lord Edric chuckles, taking a slow sip of his wine before lowering his voice.
"That's very good. I'm happy for you, Celeste."
I nod, unsure where he's going with this.
He leans in slightly, his voice dropping further. "Keep him closer."
And just like that, he straightens, nods once, and walks away—leaving me with more questions than answers.
I watch his retreating figure, my mind racing.
What exactly was he implying? Was it merely friendly advice? Or was there something more beneath his words?
I glance at Cassian again, this time, truly looking at him. The way he moves, the way the council members respond to him.
And suddenly, I have a strange feeling.
A feeling that tonight is more than just a celebration.
It's a warning.
The music shifts, and a lively tune fills the grand hall. A clear sign. It's time for the queen's dance.
Cassian stands from his seat, buttoning his coat before gracefully stepping forward. Without hesitation, he reaches for his mother's hand and leads her to the center of the hall.
The crowd erupts in cheers as mother and son dance, their movements elegant, refined, the perfect display of royalty.
I watch, captivated. But this time, it's not the queen who holds my attention.
It's Cassian.
The way he moves. The way he commands the dance floor with effortless grace and control.
I have always known him to be regal, confident, untouchable. But tonight, I notice something different.
His strength. The way his shoulders square, the way his hands move with precision. The undeniable masculinity in his every movement.
I blink. Have I never noticed before?
The music slows, signaling the end of the dance. The crowd erupts in applause. The queen smiles elegantly, nodding at her admirers before returning to her seat.
Then, I see him walking towards me.
Cassian.
His gaze locked onto mine. His hand outstretched.
A silent invitation.
I hesitate, just for a second. But something in the air, something unspoken, magnetic, pulls me forward.
I place my hand in his.
His grip is firm, warm. He leads me to the floor, his movements smooth, confident. And before I can fully grasp the moment, we are dancing.
Other couples join us, filling the floor, but my world narrows to just us.
Cassian moves with effortless ease, guiding me through the steps as though we have danced a thousand times before.
His hand tightens at my waist. The music softens, shifting into a gentle, intimate melody.
And then, he pulls me closer.
I can feel his heartbeat, steady and strong. The scent of his cologne - dark, rich, intoxicating - envelops me.
I don't resist.
I let him hold me. Let myself sink into his warmth.
For the first time in six months, I forget where we are.
Forget we've been strangers and the cold distance between us.
There is only this moment.
His lips brush against my ear as he leans in, his voice low, almost teasing but laced with something deeper.
"You seem familiar, Celeste. Have we met before?"
I laugh softly.
"Sure, on our wedding day. Remember?"
He chuckles, and for the first time tonight, the room doesn't feel so suffocating.
"Before that," he presses. "Have we met?"
I pause. A flicker of something uncertain in his tone.
I tilt my head up, meeting his gaze. He's serious.
"No," I say, keeping my voice light. "We haven't."
Cassian's lips press together slightly, his eyes narrowing just a fraction as though he doesn't quite believe me.
"There's something about you," he murmurs, his grip tightening at my waist. "Something… familiar."
I let out a small, breathless laugh, brushing it off. One of his many women, no doubt.
I don't bother myself with it.
Instead, I close my eyes and allow the moment to wrap around me.
Because whatever this is, whatever is shifting between us tonight, it won't last.
And I might as well enjoy it while it does.