Estelle’s POV
Both Jude and I turned toward the commotion. A woman in a deep purple gown stood frozen near what had been an elaborate champagne tower. Crystal glasses lay scattered across the marble floor, champagne pooling around her feet. Her face was flushed with embarrassnt as servers quickly moved in to clean the ss.
“Oh no,” she stamred, her hands fluttering helplessly. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t an to—”
“It’s perfectly fine,” one of the servers assured her. “These things happen.”
The woman looked mortified as other guests gave her sympathetic looks. So offered napkins while others simply gave her space to recover from the accident.
Despite the innocuous nature of the incident, sothing twisted in my stomach. An unease settled over that I couldn’t quite explain. The crash had been sudden and jarring, but it was just an accident. Nothing more.
“Did that give you a scare?” Jude asked, noticing how I’d tensed.
I shook my head, forcing myself to relax. “No, I’m fine. I just didn’t expect it.”
I was about to elaborate when my eyes caught sight of Zayne across the room. He stood near one of the tall windows, speaking with an elderly man. Even from this distance, I could see the tension in Zayne’s posture. His shoulders were squared, and his spine was rigid, as if he was keeping tight control over his emotions.
The elderly man, however, showed no such restraint. His face was red with anger, and his gestures were sharp and aggressive. He pointed his finger at Zayne’s chest, saying sothing that made Zayne’s jaw clench.
Then I saw her.
Rosalind Vurbont appeared beside the elderly man, her eyes wet with unshed tears as she gazed longingly at Zayne. She was dressed in an elegant silver gown that hugged her curves perfectly. Her strawberry blonde hair was swept up in an intricate style, with delicate diamond earrings catching the light. She looked radiant, every inch the picture of lycan nobility.
She looked like she’d expected to be the star of tonight’s event.
The realization hit with uncomfortable clarity. In her mind, tonight was supposed to be her engagent party. And apparently, in the elderly man’s mind as well, she should have been the one wearing an engagent ring and standing beside Zayne.
“That doesn’t look good,” Jude murmured, following my gaze.
His earlier playfulness had vanished, replaced by concern. He studied the scene with sharp eyes.
“Zayne looks annoyed,” he continued. “Do you know the history between them?”
I nodded, not taking my eyes off the confrontation. “Rosalind Vurbont thought that Zayne would pick her as his chosen mate and queen.”
I didn’t need any bit of confirmation to know sothing that was so obvious. She had declared as much during the Lycan Summit a while ago, with her insistence on sitting next to Zayne. Not to ntion, their dance together that made the world of elites assu that they were about to beco a couple, if not already.
Jude made a sound of understanding. “Ah. And that old bastard is Councilman Aldric, I presu. I heard that he’s the one who’s been pushing hardest for that match.”
I turned to him. “You knew?”
“A little.” Jude shrugged. “Zayne told a couple of things once I got him drunk enough. Either way, Rosalind is certainly a handful,” Jude said with a slight grimace. “But you should trust that Zayne will handle this. He’s dealt with worse political situations.”
I straightened my shoulders. “I do trust him completely. But this is my engagent party too. I won’t let anyone ruin tonight.”
Without waiting for a response, I began making my way across the room. Jude fell into step beside , his presence reassuring.
As we got closer, I could hear fragnts of the conversation. Zayne’s voice was low and controlled, but there was steel underneath.
“...told you repeatedly that my decision is final.”
“Your Majesty,” Aldric’s voice was sharp with disapproval. “You cannot simply dismiss years of careful planning and negotiation. The Vurbont family has been preparing—”
“The Vurbont family’s preparations are not my responsibility.”
Rosalind stepped closer to Zayne, her voice taking on a pleading tone. “Zayne, please. We’ve known each other since childhood. Surely that ans sothing.”
“It ans I respect you enough to be honest,” Zayne replied evenly. “This conversation serves no purpose.”
Aldric’s face grew redder. “You are making a mistake that will cost the lycan community dearly. This girl from nowhere, with no connections, no political value—”
“That is quite enough,” Zayne cut him off, his voice dropping to a dangerous level.
I quickened my pace, Jude still beside . We were close enough now that I could see the muscle jumping in Zayne’s jaw.
“This is the end of it,” Zayne was saying as we approached. “I will not hear anything further on this topic, Councilman.”
Zayne turned as if to leave, but then his eyes found mine. The change in his expression was imdiate and striking. The cold mask he’d been wearing lted away, replaced by sothing warm and genuine. He stepped toward , his hand finding the small of my back.
I leaned into his touch instinctively, feeling so of my tension ease at the contact. His presence was solid and reassuring.
Both Rosalind and Aldric noticed the gesture. I saw how their eyes locked onto the point where Zayne’s hand rested against . Rosalind’s face went pale, while Aldric’s expression grew even more disapproving.
“So,” Aldric said, his voice dripping with judgnt. “This is the bride you’ve chosen?”
His eyes swept over with undisguised disdain, taking in every detail of my appearance as if cataloging my flaws.
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