The slanted beam of afternoon sunlight streamed down the steps of the central palace, casting long shadows across the marble. Vlad’s strides quickened, his shadow stretching out before him. He was almost running. The chaotic meeting had delayed him more than he had anticipated—but more than that, he was eager to shake off the person trailing behind him.
“Duke, wait a moment.”
Vlad’s brow furrowed at the voice. He should have moved faster. Coming to an abrupt stop at the top of the stairs, he turned to look behind him.
“Your Highness.”
Marius loosened the top button of his uniform, panting heavily. He had nearly sprinted to catch up with Vlad. Straightening up, he struggled to steady his breath. His discomfort was obvious—he fidgeted, clearing his throat and rubbing the back of his neck.
“ I heard the news about the Duchess,” he murmured.
The mention of Liliette only soured Vlad’s mood further. He responded with a cold, piercing gaze.
