Bound by the Mark of Lies (BL)
Chapter 110 - 105: A new side of the young prince (1)

Chapter 110: Chapter 105: A new side of the young prince (1)

The fifth day of the ball was in full swing; the grand hall bathed in golden light from the massive chandeliers overhead. The nobles moved through the space with effortless grace, weaving their own political dances behind masks of civility and pleasantries.

Princess Anya stood at the edge of the festivities, her fingers curling around the delicate stem of her glass as she surveyed the room. She was never alone; nobles from her own kingdom surrounded her, as well as a few imperial aristocrats eager to curry favor. Their presence was a silent confirmation of her status, a reflection of the authority she still wielded in certain circles.

Her gaze shifted to the Emperor, seated at the head of the hall, always the picture of authority. The memory of his cold dismissal remained painful. She had been denied everything she deserved: the position, the power, and the legacy. And Damian had discarded her as if she were nothing.

But she was not so easily ignored.

Her sharp blue eyes landed on Gabriel, who was standing some distance away from the Emperor and conversing quietly with two noblemen.

A familiar voice came to her ears before she could make a move. "Your Highness looks especially thoughtful tonight. Planning something?"

Anya turned to find Gloria standing nearby, her usual polite smile in place, but her keen eyes missing nothing. She was wearing a deep green dress that contrasted with her short red hair. Her own maids stood slightly behind her, always within reach, always listening.

Anya lifted her chin. "Merely observing, Gloria. You seem busy tonight, as always."

Gloria inclined her head. "One must stay informed. Speaking of which, have you heard? There are whispers that Lady Rosaline was seen in the palace yesterday. "

Anya’s grip on her glass tightened slightly, but her expression remained composed. "Is that so?"

"Indeed," Gloria continued smoothly, watching Anya closely. "And there are even rumors of a pregnancy. Quite the development, wouldn’t you say? Could that be confirmation that she was telling the truth?"

A beat of silence passed, the tension subtle but present. Anya’s mind flickered to the message she had received from Rosaline earlier. She had yet to decide what to do about it. Help her? Ignore her? There were risks in either choice.

"These are just rumors; she could be another one trying to rise to power."

Gloria’s smile didn’t waver, but her eyes gleamed with interest. "Of course. But some gossip carries weight, wouldn’t you agree? A claim that she’s pregnant with the Emperor’s child? That’s not something easily dismissed." She let the words hang, the amusement in her tone making it seem like idle chatter, but her gaze sharpened, watching for any flicker of reaction from Anya.

Anya’s grip on her glass barely faltered, but Gloria did not miss the slight, nearly imperceptible shift in her expression. "People love to talk," Anya replied smoothly, lifting her glass to her lips as if unaffected. "Most of it is nonsense."

Gloria’s smile deepened. "Perhaps. But if it were true, imagine the scandal. The rightful Empress, cast aside, and now another woman carrying his heir? I wonder..." She let the words trail off, as if the thought itself was too delicious to fully entertain.

Anya exhaled through her nose, resisting the urge to frown. "Gossip has a way of burning out just as quickly as it spreads," she said, her voice cool.

Gloria tilted her head. "Only if no one fans the flames. But I suppose you already know that, Your Highness."

Anya met her gaze, unwilling to give her the satisfaction of a reaction. "Only when it’s worth my time."

Gloria chuckled softly. "Naturally." And with that, she gracefully stepped back, leaving the conversation open-ended; her curiosity clearly piqued.

She exchanged more pleasantries and irrelevant rumors before Gloria’s presence was required elsewhere.

Anya exhaled slowly, smoothing out her gown as if nothing had happened. But the encounter left her unsettled. She would have to decide soon what to do about Rosaline. Her lips curved with a slow, calculated smile. If she couldn’t hurt the Emperor directly, she would find another way to remind him of her presence.

She stepped forward with practiced grace, weaving her way through the crowd with precision, her gown trailing behind her like a storm’s whisper. Gabriel was momentarily free from Damian’s watchful gaze; at least, that’s what she thought.

Meanwhile, up on the dais, Prince Christian sat to the Emperor’s left, speaking quietly with Astana. He slouched in his chair, one leg crossed over the other, his posture far too casual for someone of his rank. Anya barely spared him a glance. She despised him—not because he was the same age as Gabriel, but because he was careless and lacked discipline. She had previously been subtly encouraged to consider him a suitor in order to keep her in the imperial family. The thought had been laughable. Christian carried his title with ease, but in her eyes, he was still playing politics and didn’t realize the full weight of his bloodline.

She approached with a sharp smirk on her lips. "Lord von Jaunez," she greeted smoothly, her voice carrying just enough pleasantness to feign courtesy. "I hope you are enjoying the ball."

Gabriel turned slightly, his dark eyes settling on her with a thin veil of caution. "Your Highness. It has been... eventful."

Anya’s smile didn’t falter. "Oh, I imagine so. Especially with all the rumors swirling about the palace lately. A former noblewoman seen in the halls, whispers of a child who might bear imperial blood. It must be terribly distracting for someone so close to His Majesty."

Gabriel’s fingers twitched at his side, but his face remained impassive. "Rumors tend to thrive in places like this. That doesn’t make them true."

Anya tilted her head. "Perhaps. But don’t you think some stories are too delicious to ignore? A scorned woman, a lost future, and an unborn child. It’s almost poetic. She let her words settle, watching him, waiting for a crack in his composure.

Gabriel exhaled slowly, his patience thinning. "If you have something to say, Princess, say it."

Her smirk deepened. "I am just curious how you feel knowing you might not be the Emperor’s most important companion after all. How unfortunate if His Majesty’s attention was... divided."

Gabriel’s eyes flickered, but he did not react as she expected. Instead, he straightened, his expression turning cool. "You seem quite invested in a rumor, Your Highness. Almost as if you wish it to be true."

Anya’s lips curled slightly. "Wouldn’t it be entertaining if it were?"

Before Gabriel could reply, the air around them shifted. A shadow loomed nearby, sending shivers down Anya’s spine before she turned. Prince Christian, not the Emperor, had noticed.

Christian stood a short distance away, his usual casual demeanor subdued and his sharp gaze fixed on the conversation. He had seen her approaching Gabriel, and unlike the others who whispered and turned away, he had no intention of allowing her to ruin the mood of the ball once more. He may have carried himself with ease, but he held a quiet, unwavering respect for his brother. He wouldn’t let Anya stir more trouble.

"Entertaining for whom, exactly?" His voice was deceptively light, but there was an undeniable edge beneath it.

Anya tensed, but quickly masked it with a delicate laugh, turning toward him with an air of innocence. ’Christian?’ She had barely given him thought before. He was just a young man, an observer, too naive to fully comprehend the games being played around him.

However, something was off. He looked at her steadily and knowingly, which was unlike the careless prince she had dismissed. His steel-gray eyes had a sharpness to them that she hadn’t noticed before.

Christian, with his shoulder-length black hair, had all the characteristics of a Lyon heir. But now, for the first time, she recognized it: Damian’s unreadable air, the dangerous control that made him so formidable.

"Your Highness," she repeated, carefully adjusting her tone to test the waters. "We were only discussing courtly matters. Surely a little conversation isn’t forbidden at your brother’s ball?"