Chapter 15
It was Cyrday afternoon, and Ivy still hadn’t sought Rain out—which was wildly out of character and, stranger yet, it had him on edge. Enough that he’d reached out for her energy signature more than once, just to settle the unease twisting in his gut.
She and Sebastian had arrived just before dinner. Rain had seen their car pull up and fully expected Ivy to appear at his door within minutes. Instead, she’d gone straight to the far eastern wing; the furthest she could be from him while still inside the palace. Again, very unlike her.
Snow confirmed that neither Ivy nor Sebastian came down for dinner.
Reaffirming their suspicions that something was amiss.
Igna had skirted around the topic of Ivy having an admirer, even joking about it after their father suggested they begin arranging the wedding.
Snow was convinced Igna was trying not to say something she desperately wanted to say, which aligned perfectly with the emotional read Rain had gotten from her that morning.
It all pointed to one thing:
Ivy was probably entertaining someone else.
Which was a good thing.
Right?
Then why did his stomach feel like it was being wrung out?
Rain stood before the full-length mirror, rolling the sleeves of his royal-blue silk shirt to just below the elbow.
The banquet was relatively informal, allowing the males to dress more simply while the females tended to go all out.
Rain chose an open-collared shirt, unbuttoned to the sternum – where his pendant rested, paired with tailored trousers and polished shoes.
He was required to wear his kingdom’s colours, as was everyone, but thankfully, his crown wasn’t necessary.
Kings and Queens always wore theirs in public, while princes had to for formal events. Rain ignored that rule often.
He ran his fingers through his hair, checked his reflection one last time, and stepped out.
Guests from Purple and Pink had been arriving all day. The palace buzzed with suffocating energy that threatened to overwhelm. Rain had to lock down his powers every couple of hours, regretting each time he stretched his range searching for Ivy. It felt like punishment layered upon punishment.
Yet here he was again, releasing his shields as he stalked toward the banquet hall, directing his energy only toward familiar signatures. Snow was easiest, her energy felt like an extension of his own. She was in her element, networking effortlessly. He felt Igna, Edmond, Sebastian… but no Ivy.
He was about to reach toward her room when another familiar energy bounded down the corridor, accompanied by an adorable, off-key singing voice.
“Navy is that you I can hear?” he called, turning into her hallway.
“Rainyyyyy!” she squealed, skipping straight into his arms. He lifted her and spun her around, her turquoise skirts flaring like petals.
“You look very beautiful, princess.”
“Pretty dress,” she said, dragging frost-painted fingernails down the fabric.
“Yes, a very pretty dress for a very pretty girl.” He kissed her cheek. “Let’s go join everyone. Good evening, Erica, you look lovely as well.”
Her nanny blushed and thanked him.
Navy played with the pendant on his necklace as he carried her toward the hall, humming her little rhyme and making the charm bounce against his collarbone. But as they entered the noisy hall, she quietened, hiding her face in his shoulder.
“It’s okay,” he whispered into her hair. “It’s scary for me too. Want to know a secret?”
She peeked up at him with wide olive eyes.
“You know how small animals are more scared of you than you are of them?”
“Like the tweety birds?” She asked, her fingers delicately fluttering in the air.
“Yes. Like the little birds that fly away when you try to feed them. Everyone in here is just like those birds — they’re more scared of you than you are of them.”
“And we feed them.”
“Yes,” he laughed. “We feed our guests. See how brave they are?”
She looked around, eyes bright, scanning the faces turned toward them. She nodded, still clutching his pendant.
“I think you can show them how to be the bravest princess in the room. Do you think you can do that?”
She thought hard, her mouth twitching with concentration.
“Yep. Navy is like Rain.”
“That’s right. Strong and brave.” He kissed her cheek again. “Now, a princess should walk to her seat. Hold my hand and let me lead the way.”
She straightened proudly in him arms. Erica smoothed her skirts as Rain set her down, and Navy slipped her tiny hand into his. He led her to the seat beside their mothers. Guests nodded and waved at the princess as they passed. Once she was settled, Rain left her with Erica and headed toward Snow.
She was deep in conversation with Sebastian, Ivy’s brother, and Julian, the Purple heir.
“Good evening, boys,” Rain said, positioning himself so both princes had to take a step away from his sister.
“Rain,” Sebastian replied, his tone as warm as a glacier, just like his personality.
“Good evening,” Julian added. “I’m surprised you’re capable of joining us tonight. It’s only been… what? Seven days since you started this war. Eight?”
“It appears you underestimate me.” Rain’s gaze slid down Julian’s outfit. “Is that lavender or lilac? I can never remember the difference.”
He traced a finger down Julian’s chest. Julian’s muscles tensed, though his expression stayed perfectly composed. Sebastian took another step back, clearly preparing to escape the conversation.
Before anyone could speak again, the room’s volume dropped sharply—courtesy of Duke Clarington, who could dampen sound.
He often bragged he could mute an entire nation, though Rain had only ever seen him silence himself.
Still, his ability was useful when the King and Queen entered and expected everyone to take their seats.
Rain offered his arm to Snow. She rolled her eyes but linked hers through his, and he guided them to their places. The seat to his left remained empty, reserved for Ivy.
“Have you seen Ivy yet?” he murmured to Snow, he knew the answer, but nerves made him compulsively ask.
She shook her head as their parents began their welcome speech.
“It is with great honour that we welcome you, our friends and family, into our humble home,” the King announced.
The hall of nearly one hundred and eighty guests, chuckled.
“We thank you for gracing us with your presence this weekend. In celebration of our bonded alliances, may we enjoy long-overdue company or at the very least, fill our stomachs and get incredibly intoxicated together.”
More laughter.
“Raise your glasses in thanks to our beautifully talented daughter Snow, who managed to gather us all here on such short notice. And to love, joy, and laughter. May the Gods bless us all.”
He lifted his champagne flute with a glint in his eye.
“Cheers!”
“Cheers,” echoed through the hall.
Rain drained his glass in one swift motion. The Queen of Pink caught his attention as she eyed him curiously. He met her gaze briefly before she looked away, whispering to her husband. He scanned her energy; a difficult endeavour in such a crowded room but sensed no judgement. Very surprising.
Servers began loading plates with meats and vegetables. Rain’s stomach growled as the aroma hit his senses. He’d skipped lunch, due to his nerves eating him alive.
He dug into the braised Wagyu, his mouth already salivating as the exquisitely tender meat melted on his tongue.
The click of heels behind him sliced cleanly through the noise of the hall, sharp and deliberate and unmistakably hers.
Rain didn’t need to turn. Her energy reached him first, sliding across his senses like warm silk, familiar enough to recognise instantly and unwelcome enough to make his pulse tighten.
He spun anyway.
Ivy glided past him in a slow, unhurried sweep, her hand trailing across his broad shoulders as though she owned the right to touch him.
The contact was barely there, a whisper of fingertips but it sent a controlled jolt down his spine.
She didn’t look at him at first. She didn’t need to. She knew he was watching.
A servant pulled out her chair, and she folded into it with effortless grace, the emerald fabric of her dress clinging to every curve like it had been poured onto her skin.
The deep V of her neckline dipped low enough to draw his attention.
Before he could stop himself, his eyes travelled — traitorously — down the line of her body before he forced them back up.
She was already looking at him.
Not smiling.
Not smirking.
Just watching him with that cool, assessing gaze that always made him feel like she was peeling back layers he didn’t want exposed. Her lips parted, slow and deliberate, as she reached for her glass.
“Are you still broken?” she asked as she raised the glass to her lips.