At the base of the dais, Julian released me with a reassuring smile. He stepped aside and turned back toward Xavier.
Xavier moved with a deliberate grace, his steps carefully measured as he approached the towering, jagged bone thrones that loomed ominously at the center of the dais. The thrones under the chandelier’s light had created eerie shadows across the dais, twisting and contorting like dark, serpentine vines.
Xavier stopped in front of the throne to the right, and a hush fell over the room. The murmurs dwindled into silence as his commanding presence filled the space.
Everyone in the room dropped to one knee simultaneously, and I was left standing, looking over a sea of bowed heads. Xavier's eye met mine and his lips twitched as Julian tugged at my sleeve. Whispers and murmuring started to sound as heads started to tilt my way, but I refused to kneel.
Before I could cause a scene, Xaviers voice boomed through the room. “Rise.”
Everyone around me straightened, some glancing my way with narrowed gazes.
The moment Xavier’s weight settled upon the throne, the room sprang back to life. His guests resumed their chatter, and the clinking of glasses and music sounded, filling the void of silence.
Julian started to lead me through the bustling room toward a table, shaking his head, his cheeks red. As we walked, I could have sworn I felt a heavy gaze on my back as we crossed the room.
Chapter 17
Xavier
There she was—sitting next to Julian, wearing that damn dress. I hadn’t known what to expect when I walked into my room earlier, but the sight of her had taken my breath away. The black, nearly sheer dress seemed as if it had been tailor-made for her—and, well, it had been, but I hadn’t anticipated it looking quite so enchanting. Her soft chestnut hair lay loose over her shoulder, spilling across the delicate fabric held together by nothing more than those fragile, thin straps.
Zara was laughing, her lips curling in amusement, probably at my expense, judging by the mischievous glint in Julian’s eyes as he glanced my way. Her gaze, however, never drifted toward me, and I was grateful for that small mercy. If she looked, I didn’t think I would be able to resist going over to her, and I couldn’t, not with Soren droning on in my ear.
“The barmaid was simply rude. Mr. Hinkle needs to hire better staff to run his tavern. I've never been treated so poorly in my entire life.” Soren huffed in his nasal voice, “If you wereto walk in there, I’m sure her attitude wouldn’t have changed. Abysmal. Something really must be done.”
I barely registered Soren’s complaints as my attention stayed fixed on Zara. I knew she was safe with Julian, but I couldn’t shake the need to know what she thought of my guests, the food—everything.
Soren’s droning voice grated on my nerves like nails scraping against stone, and I’d had enough. “Soren,” I interrupted, my tone flat. “Mr. Hinkle and his daughter have run that tavern for nearly a century with no other complaints. Perhaps the problem isn’t the staff.”
Soren puffed up in indignation, his ashen hair seeming more unruly than usual. It stuck out in untamed curls off his head, landing on his slender shoulders.
I didn’t give him the chance to protest. My glare was sharp enough to cut through his bluster. “You seem to forget that I’m close with the Hinkle family. If this issue stems from the young Hinkle rejecting your advances, you’ll find yourself not welcome in any tavern. Understand?”
Soren’s face went bright red, and he seemed to be at a loss for words.
“As much as I enjoy seeing you speechless, I’m sure others have more pressing issues that need addressing,” I said with a sharp edge.
Soren barely concealed his sneer beneath a forced smile, his long, pointed nose twitching with irritation. “Of course, Your Majesty,” he replied, his voice dripping with false courtesy. I stared at him, my eyes dipping to his ridiculous outfit. He wore a bright salmon silk shirt that peeked out from beneath a white vest. Ruffled side panels adorned his matching pants, and the extra fabric fell loosely at the edges.
Soren gave a halfhearted bow before stalking away. I saw him glance toward Julian and Zara, but I rose from my throneand headed in their direction before Soren could form any more schemes.
I was almost at their table when a red-haired vixen stepped into my path.
“Xavier.” Aria lifted an eyebrow as she addressed me, her lip curling into a vicious smirk. She gave a slight bow before demanding, “Where is Jaxon?”
I raised my brows in surprise. It had been years since she last sought out my brother.
“He isn’t here, Aria. You can relax; he won’t be ruining your trip. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to—”
“Whenever I mention him, everyone squirms or changes the subject,” she cut in sharply. “Normally, I’m fine with that, but this feels different.”
“My brother will not be joining us, not today or tomorrow. We can discuss the reasons at the meeting,” I added a warning growl to my words.
“Then why does that girl smell like him?” Aria pressed, her eyes narrowing. “She seems familiar in a way. His scent is faint, but I know it by heart. If it’s that light, it could only be from a day or two ago.”
“I will not repeat myself,” I snapped, my patience fraying.
Aria responded with a dry laugh, “So, he is hiding from me?”
