Bound by the Mark of Lies (BL)
Chapter 81 - 76: Help (3)

Chapter 81: Chapter 76: Help (3)

Gabriel’s eyes flickered back to the empty balcony, his unease growing. He quickly masked it, his demeanor returning to its usual coolness. With a flick of his wrist, he smoothed out the wrinkles in his robe, attempting to ignore the weight on his chest. This was not the place or time to discuss the director’s suspect disappearance; he was confident that Max and Damian were also looking into it. Gabriel needed to learn to trust others to do their jobs for once.

"I suppose the Emperor expects me to be so prepared for the Blue Ether Project that I do not need sleep, food, or the luxury of a simple conversation," he said with a mock sigh and a sarcastic tone. "A brilliant plan, really. Who needs rest when you can obsess over every last detail of a project that may or may not ever see the light of day?"

Anabelle’s lips twitched in response, but she could see the underlying tension in Gabriel’s eyes. He was trying too hard to keep up the act. The humor didn’t reach the depths of his gaze, and she knew enough to recognize when someone was hiding behind words.

"You are right," she replied lightly, her voice teasing, "I am sure the Emperor’s strategy includes keeping you from focusing on anything else. A man’s work should always come before his well-being, after all."

Gabriel’s lips curled upward in a smirk, the expression practiced, but his eyes remained sharp, scanning the crowd with careful detachment. "Of course. Who else is there to bear the burden of the entire empire’s future? I’m just a humble servant to the greater good, after all." His words were ironic, but the sharpness in his voice revealed something deeper beneath the surface.

Anabelle noticed a subtle shift in his demeanor, as he deflected with humor, pushing the true gravity of the situation deeper into the recesses of his mind. She would seen it before: Gabriel was an expert at concealing his true emotions behind his wit and sharp tongue. It was a wall he had carefully built over the years, one that even the most perceptive people found difficult to penetrate.

She chose not to press him further, instead playing along with his mask. "A humble servant, indeed," she said with a nod, her smile widening. "And yet, you manage to look so effortlessly composed. You’re making the rest of us look bad, Gabriel."

Gabriel chuckled softly, the sound smooth but devoid of warmth. "It’s a gift," he said, his voice low and teasing. "One I’m sure you’ve mastered in your own right, Anabelle."

Gabriel looked around the ballroom with practiced disinterest, but his mind was elsewhere, on the pressing issues that weighed on him. "Oh, I think I’ve never met your daughter. Where is she? Don’t tell me you want to spend the night chatting about work," he stated, the flicker of curiosity in his tone belying the underlying tension still coiling in his chest. His gaze swept the crowd, looking for Anabelle’s copycat among the many faces.

Anabelle arched an eyebrow at his shift in focus. She could tell he was trying to steer the conversation away from himself, hiding his concerns beneath layers of wit and sarcasm. She appreciated the subtlety, even if it made her feel like she was chasing ghosts.

"She is on the dance floor, the one with the red dress and blonde hair." She said her gaze softened as she approached the young woman dancing with a man dressed in blue. "She heard about you. The rumors, you know? When she realized Gabriel at work was you, she became angry with me."

"Someone is angry with you? The Anabelle, I know?" Gabriel stared at the woman in disbelief.

She shrugged, "The wonders of parenting. She will be delighted to finally meet you."

Anabelle smiled softly as she noticed Gabriel shift his gaze to the young woman on the dance floor. She sensed his unease, but there was also curiosity, perhaps even intrigue. Aylin, with her fiery red dress and golden locks, was undeniably stunning. She had a presence that demanded attention, even in the sea of noblemen and women.

As the dance came to an end, Anabelle took a small step forward, her voice barely audible. "It’s time."

Gabriel’s gaze lingered on the figure in front of him, his features unreadable except for a faint flicker of something in his dark eyes. His expression remained composed, but his mind was sharp as he studied Aylin closely, already calculating.

Anabelle beckoned Aylin with a gentle gesture, and she moved gracefully toward them.

Her posture was confident, though her eyes flickered nervously when she saw Gabriel. She had heard rumors about the von Jaunez son and the engineer that her mother mentioned.

When Aylin finally stood in front of Gabriel, she gave a respectful nod, her voice soft yet clear. "Lord Gabriel, it is an honor to meet you," she said with a perfectly executed bow, her voice steady but filled with awe.

Gabriel’s eyes softened, and for a moment, he was caught off guard. He had expected the usual pretensions, the fluttering of eyelashes, and the sweet words of admiration that often accompanied introductions in such settings. But Aylin was different. She didn’t seem starstruck; instead, there was a quiet intensity in her gaze, as though she was trying to measure him in the same way he so often measured others.

"Miss Aylin," Gabriel replied, his voice low and smooth, his features not betraying any sign of the subtle impression she had made on him. "The pleasure is mine. Your mother has told me much about you."

Aylin’s lips quirked slightly at that, her eyes glinting with a mischievous spark. "I hope it was all good things, my lord." Her tone was lighthearted, but there was a sharpness to her words that indicated she was not easily intimidated.

Gabriel raised an eyebrow at her playful remark, a smile spreading across his face before regaining his composure. "I believe my esteemed colleague has only spoken in your favor," he said calmly, his gaze never leaving hers.

Aylin gave a small nod, the subtle challenge in her tone undeterred. "She does her best, but I am sure you have seen how difficult it is to keep me out of trouble."

Gabriel’s lips curled into a faint smile. "I’m sure," he replied. He was about to say something else when the atmosphere in the hall shifted abruptly.

A quiet murmur echoed through the crowd. The music came to a gentle halt as the heads turned. Anabelle, noticing the change, straightened slightly, her expression becoming more formal. Gabriel followed the movement, his gaze narrowing as the cause of the shift became clear.

The grand doors at the far end of the hall swung open with a flourish, and the air seemed to pulse with palpable power. The Emperor, Damian Lyon, entered the ballroom.

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