behind diamond-paned windows, casting long shadows over manicured hedges sculpted into mythical beasts. The fountain in th

was unusua

gloved hand to assist her descent, the other presented a tray with a crystal flute of champagne. He

iced grace of someone who had

plintering it into stars across the ceiling. The walls were paneled in gold leaf and mirrored in ways that turned every guest into a

d

come to associate with the elite: something cold, distilled, and faintly metallic. Not blood. Not gunpowder. Just...

They bowed. But th

arls nodded at her, lips painted a precise shade of carmine. "You carry

te. Painless. "And yet, some s

k under

he coun

val, perhaps. Or thinly vei

en groomed

tegy. Women drifted like swans, trailing secrets behind satin trains. Conversation

flattered as a beauty, weighed as a variable. And always-always-watched. Eyes followed her not with desire, bu

rhythm-violins softening into what sounde

er than twenty-five. Uniformed, resplendent, princely in the literal sense of the word. His smile was pract

Leo of

ally, he was here for "cultural observ

s: his blood was blue, but his heart burned red. He was said to favor artists, dancers, peop

ter of the marble floor. He did not bow. Instead, he

d fingers

their elegance. Her gown-dove-gray silk embroidered with black diamo

itself, and he was just another b

sation was l

ut art-did she prefer Klimt or Caravaggio? She answered neither. "I

hing flickered in his gaze. A mome

h

fl

so

ass breaking i

flute in her

dn't s

ed as one, a single breath s

splinters glinting beneath her skin like cursed stardust. The prince gr

security agents

uted. Anoth

usic

silence remained-thick,

he mezzanine? A s

sed in every pai

e didn

ut of

calcu

the first five seconds after a gun

n. And stared directly into the chan

n her hand lik

courtiers scurried, and guards swe

Delacroix di

is wasn't

as a m

ust become th

cate stems, and the soft rustling of silk dresses was the only sound besides the low murmur of whispered conversations trying to piece together what had just occ

from shattered glass. The wound was shallow, a mere scratch, but it was eno

an unwavering, cold calculation. Beside him, the faces of the security officials were masks of solemn professionalism, but their vigilance radiated like a taut wire

but never before had it felt so suffocating, so close. It was as if the wal

ldhood. The shot had come too close to be a random accident, too deliberate to be ignored. Someone wanted her to understand the s

night with the poise of a queen

ing lightly against his palm in a silent apology before stepping away. The music had

r conversation was impenetrable, but the furtive glances they cast in her direction betrayed a singular c

e realized something f

ge she had been born into-was no long

Politeness gave way to suspicion; smiles were thinner, conversations more guarded. The grandeur

rom the glass shards, but her mind was far sharper than the sting. The invitation to the royal bal

rdless offer of alliance or perhaps warning. Arielle met his gaze evenly but gave no

readable. But Arielle knew that look well-it was the promise of vigilance, the unyiel

t the open windows, carrying with it the f

tering chandeliers and beneath the layer of gold

and unbroken, but the cage a

wed the gunshot, she understo

s no longer a gracefu