20 - Wolf
The tea gathering continued with the graceful rhythm expected of noble society.
Porcelain cups clinked softly. Gentle laughter drifted through the garden. Cherry blossoms occasionally fell onto the white tablecloths like scattered snow.
To anyone observing from afar, the scene looked perfectly harmonious. But beneath that elegance, several very different thoughts were unfolding.
---
Grand Duke Maximus Vernon was not enjoying his tea. Not even slightly.
He sat stiffly at the head of the table, smiling mechanically whenever a visiting noble addressed him. But his eyes kept drifting back to the Crown Prince. Specifically to the way the Crown Prince kept looking at Mariana.
Maximus had seen that look before. Not in court politics. Not in diplomacy. But in the wilderness. When predators spotted prey. His fingers tightened around the porcelain handle of his teacup.
Years ago, when the engagement agreement had first been suggested, Maximus had not been pleased. Not because Zafiel was unworthy. Quite the opposite.
The Crown Prince was brilliant. Powerful. Ruthlessly capable. And that was precisely the problem. Zafiel's reputation within the empire was... complicated. Some called him a genius. Others called him a tyrant.
Maximus personally believed both descriptions were correct. Which meant he was exactly the kind of man a father did not want near his only daughter. Men were dangerous. Maximus knew that better than most.
The empire's aristocracy was filled with charming wolves dressed in velvet and gold. And the Crown Prince was the largest wolf among them. That was why, over the years, Maximus had secretly been relieved whenever Zafiel showed absolutely no interest in Mariana.
Whenever they crossed paths during imperial ceremonies, the Crown Prince had been perfectly polite. But distant. Indifferent. Sometimes he barely even glanced at her. At the time, Maximus had considered that a blessing.
Good, ignore her. Please continue ignoring her forever.
But now, Maximus glanced again across the table. Zafiel was listening to a baron's story while casually stirring his tea. Yet his gaze flickered toward Mariana every few seconds. Not obvious enough for most people to notice. But Maximus noticed. And he did not like it. Not one bit.
Slowly, the Grand Duke set his teacup down. Then he made a small gesture with his fingers beneath the table. Subtle. Barely visible. But it was enough.
Across the garden, three young men immediately noticed.
The Vernon brothers. Aguerico, Eirwen, and the youngest, Alistair.
Aguerico frowned slightly. Alistair looked confused.
But Eirwen understood instantly. His sharp eyes shifted toward the Crown Prince.
Then toward Mariana. Then back to their father.
Ah, that.
Eirwen exhaled slowly.
When Mariana had first returned to the estate after years away, he had regarded her with mild indifference. She had been the troublesome younger sister. Rebellious. Sharp-tongued.
Constantly causing headaches for the household. But recently, Eirwen's opinion had begun to change. Especially after witnessing the chaos of the Saintess incident.
And the way Mariana had tried—rather desperately—to escape the entire situation. There had been something oddly sincere about her panic. Something genuine. Eirwen had started to find her... amusing. Endearing, even.
Which meant he now felt an uncomfortable sense of responsibility. His gaze moved toward Zafiel again. The Crown Prince was smiling politely at the nobles. Elegant. Charming. Perfect.
But Eirwen noticed something his father had also seen. The subtle focus in the Crown Prince's eyes whenever they drifted back to Mariana. Eirwen leaned slightly toward his brothers. "Stay close to our sister today," he murmured quietly.
Aguerico raised an eyebrow. "... why?"
Eirwen's gaze remained fixed on Zafiel. "Just in case."
Alistair blinked. "In case of what?"
Eirwen didn't answer. Because the answer was obvious. In case the wolf gets too close.
---
At the main table, Darelene was also observing everything. Her expression remained calm. Her smile elegant. The perfect image of a gracious hostess.
But inside, her thoughts were far more complicated. Because she had noticed it too. The same thing Maximus had sensed. The same thing Eirwen had recognized.
Zafiel's interest. But Darelene understood something else as well. This was not simple attraction.
Not curiosity—no. It was something far more deliberate.
The Crown Prince was studying Mariana. Examining her.
And the look in his eyes, Darelene had seen that expression before.
Years ago, in the Imperial Palace. When Empress Lilith watched court politics unfold.
Lilith had possessed the same calm, dangerous patience.
The patience of someone who waited carefully before claiming exactly what they wanted. Darelene's fingers tightened slightly around her teacup. Wolfish. That was the only word that fit. Zafiel looked calm. Civilized.
But beneath that composure lurked unmistakable predatory intent. And Mariana, unfortunately, had just wandered directly into his territory. Darelene's gaze softened as she looked at her daughter.
Mariana was currently listening to a noble lady describe the flower gardens of her estate with forced politeness. She had no idea what kind of attention she had just attracted.
Or perhaps she did.
Mariana's instincts were sharper than most people realized.
But still, Darelene felt a quiet weight settle in her chest. Because this situation was, technically, her doing. She had agreed to the engagement years ago. She had believed it would be a beneficial alliance. Safe. Predictable. A political partnership between two powerful families.
But now watching Zafiel's quiet smile as he observed Mariana, Darelene felt the faintest flicker of unease.
Have I pushed my daughter into a wolf's den?
Her smile remained flawless as she lifted her teacup. But inside, the Grand Duchess was suddenly not entirely certain whether the future she had arranged for Mariana would be a blessing. Or something far more dangerous. Across the table, Zafiel met Mariana's eyes again. And smiled.