Lady Iris, now completely undone by the effects of her tampered drink, beamed when she saw the emperor.
"My lord!" she squealed with childish glee, throwing her arms around him. The entire room stiffened in horror. Iris, oblivious, clung to him as though they were long-lost lovers.
Xander's jaw tightened. "What is going on?" he asked coldly, his gaze flicking to the women surrounding them.
"My lord…" Lady Calantha began, but Lady Iris interrupted her with a drunken giggle.
"You've never come to my chambers," she said dreamily. "I don't know what you see in Lady Cavendish. She isn't even that stunning."
Gabriel brought a hand to his forehead with a groan. Lady Calantha closed her eyes briefly, her own ally embarrassing her beyond recovery. Lola, however, remained composed, lips curled into the faintest smirk.
"Such a disgraceful woman," Lady Calantha hissed beneath her breath, glancing away in shame.
"Guards!" the emperor thundered. His voice echoed through the great hall, silencing every whisper. He turned toward Iris, his expression like stone. "Take her away."
Two palace guards stepped forward at once, seizing the lady by the arms.
"Where are you taking me? Unhand me!" Lady Iris shrieked, flailing. Her wild eyes landed on Lady Calantha. "This isn't what you promised me, Lady Calantha!"
A collective gasp swept through the crowd. All eyes turned on Calantha, who stood frozen, her composure cracking.
"That is not what it sounds like, Your Majesty," she said quickly, stepping forward with a curtsy that dipped too fast. "Please, allow me to explain…"
"I care not to hear it," Xander replied coolly, cutting her off. "I will speak with you tomorrow."
Without another word, he strode toward Lola and, in one fluid motion, swept her up into his arms. She blinked, stunned, as he carried her bridal-style through the grand hall. The crowd erupted into hushed murmurs and whispers as nobles strained to catch a glimpse.
"As you wish, Your Majesty," Lady Calantha murmured behind them, her head bowed, though her eyes burned with fury. Her fists clenched beneath her silk skirts. Must I do everything myself? she thought darkly. If they cannot silence her... then I shall.
Meanwhile, across the ballroom, Lady Ava Moreno continued her conversation with two charming lords, their laughter blending into the soft music.
But her smile faded when she felt the familiar presence behind her.
"Lord Flynn, you've joined us," Viscount James said, lifting a glass in greeting.
Gabriel gave a polite nod. "Indeed, Viscount. If it's not too much trouble, I would like a private word with Lady Moreno."
The other lord chuckled. "No trouble at all. She's all yours," he said, bowing gallantly as they walked away.
Ava turned to Gabriel with narrowed eyes. "I believe I made myself quite clear, my lord. I do not wish to speak with you."
"I apologize," Gabriel said smoothly, though his smirk lingered. "It's just... I can't seem to get a certain lady out of my head."
She rolled her eyes. "How unfortunate for you."
He took a step closer, voice lowering. "You've never smiled at me before. Yet you were laughing so sweetly with those gentlemen."
Her brows furrowed. "Is that jealousy I hear?"
"I am a jealous man," he said without shame. "I don't enjoy others laying claim to what belongs to me."
Her expression hardened. "I do not belong to you, Lord Flynn. And I never will."
She turned to leave, but he caught her wrist gently, but firmly.
"I don't care what it takes, Lady Moreno," he murmured. "One way or another, you will be mine. And when that day comes, I only hope you don't regret the battle you started."
Their eyes locked, his dark with obsession, hers burning with defiance as the candlelight flickered between them, casting long shadows on the polished marble floor.
Ava didn't move. Neither did he. The ballroom seemed to vanish around them, and all that remained was a dangerous promise, a war of wills yet to be won.