The great hall shimmered with gold and crystal, every chandelier ablaze, every noble dressed in finery that seemed to rival the sun itself. Music floated faintly in the air, and the guests whispered excitedly — all waiting for Adrian to name his bride.
Camilla's pulse thudded in her ears. She wasn't here for this spectacle. She wasn't here for Adrian. And yet, she stood in the corner, half-hidden behind a column, her gown catching the light in dangerous, betraying flashes. She was here because Xavier was somewhere in this crowd… and she couldn't seem to stay away from him.
She spotted him near the edge of the dais, his posture perfectly composed in his dark ceremonial coat. Xavier was speaking to an elder courtier, his expression a polite mask — until his gaze slid over the heads of the crowd and locked onto hers.
It was like being pinned in place.
Camilla looked away too quickly, her breath hitching. But she could feel him moving closer, cutting through the throng with that effortless grace that made the rest of the room fade into nothing.
Before she could think of an excuse to escape, a strong hand closed around her wrist, warm and sure, pulling her into a shadowed side corridor hidden by a velvet curtain.
"Xavier—" she started, but he silenced her with a low, dangerous murmur.
"You've been avoiding me."
Her heart pounded. "Maybe because you've been impossible to read," she shot back, her voice low but sharp. "One moment you're—"
"Wanting you," he finished for her, his tone like steel wrapped in velvet. "The next, I'm trying to keep you away from me… for your sake."
He stepped closer, his scent wrapping around her — cedar, rain, and something purely him. Her back met the cold stone wall, his body crowding hers, yet not touching. The space between them was electric, maddening.
"You think I can't handle whatever you're afraid of?" she asked, tilting her chin defiantly.
His jaw tightened. "You have no idea what I'm capable of, Camilla. Or how close I am to—" He broke off, dragging in a breath as though reining himself in.
She reached up without thinking, her fingertips brushing the edge of his collar. "Then stop holding back," she whispered.
For one tense, suspended second, nothing moved. Then his restraint snapped.
Xavier's mouth was on hers, hard and consuming, his hand sliding to the back of her neck, pulling her closer. The kiss was heat and fury and the unspoken ache they'd both been drowning in. She clutched his coat, pulling him in, losing herself in the taste of him — until a sudden cheer erupted from the hall beyond the curtain.
They broke apart, breathless, their foreheads almost touching.
"They're starting," Xavier said, his voice low, still ragged with desire.
Camilla swallowed, her heart still racing. "Then you'd better go stand beside your brother… and pretend nothing happened."
His lips curved, a slow, knowing smile that made her knees weaken. "You think I can pretend now, Camilla? After this?"
But he stepped back, adjusting his coat, the perfect composed prince once more — except for the fire still burning in his eyes.
When they emerged into the hall, Adrian was already walking to the center, ready to speak the name of his bride.
And Camilla… couldn't stop wondering if Xavier's kiss had been a promise, or a warning.