Chapter Ten – The Choice
The ceremonial hall glittered under the light of a hundred chandeliers, their crystal droplets scattering rainbows across polished marble floors. Nobles, merchants, and foreign dignitaries filled the space, their silks and jewels shimmering in every hue. Camilla sat near the back, her gown of pale silver blending her into the crowd, though her eyes remained locked on the man at the center of it all — Adrian Velenhart.
The young heir stood on the dais, flanked by advisors, his golden hair perfectly combed, his expression carved in calm authority. He looked every inch the nobleman who would one day rule. And today, he would choose his bride.
Camilla's fingers tightened around her fan. She told herself she shouldn't care. That Adrian's choice meant nothing to her. But every instinct whispered otherwise.
A hush fell over the room as Adrian's gaze swept the gathered women, each one chosen by their families for beauty, power, or both. Then, with deliberate calm, he announced,
> "Lady Seraphine Draemir."
The name sliced through the silence.
Camilla's breath hitched. Seraphine — daughter of the Draemir House, infamous for its ruthless pursuit of influence. The very same family that had made it their mission to crush anyone who dared stand in their way.
Gasps and murmurs rippled through the crowd. Adrian smiled faintly, descending from the dais to take Seraphine's hand in the traditional gesture of acknowledgment. From the outside, it looked like nothing more than a political match — a logical, beneficial choice.
But Camilla felt the tension coil in her stomach. She could sense the danger in Seraphine's poised smile, the warning in her icy eyes as they briefly met Camilla's.
Across the hall, Xavier stood near the shadowed pillars, his posture casual but his gaze sharp and unyielding. His eyes flickered to Camilla only once, but that single look was enough to tell her he'd noticed her reaction.
The rest of the ceremony passed in a blur. Laughter. Toasts. Music. But Camilla could hardly focus.
When the crowd began to disperse, she slipped toward the gardens, needing air. The cold evening breeze met her, carrying the scent of night-blooming jasmine. She didn't hear his footsteps, but she knew the moment Xavier was behind her.
"You're troubled," he said, his voice low, almost rough.
She turned, meeting his unreadable gaze. "Why would I be? It's not my concern who your brother marries."
Xavier stepped closer, shadows and moonlight playing across his face. "Seraphine is not harmless, Camilla. And Adrian's choice…" He trailed off, as if weighing whether to continue.
She swallowed. "Then why didn't you stop him?"
For the briefest moment, something raw crossed his expression — not anger, but a hint of frustration, almost regret. "Because this isn't about him. It's about you."
Her heart skipped. "Me?"
He didn't answer directly. Instead, he leaned in, close enough that she caught the faintest trace of his scent — dark spice and something she couldn't name. "Stay close to me from now on," he murmured, his tone a quiet command.
Before she could reply, he stepped back into the shadows, leaving her in the cool night air, her pulse racing and her mind tangled in questions she couldn't untangle.