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The castle grounds, usually teeming with a sense of serenity, were now a storm in Hadrain's heart. He retreated to his chambers, each step heavier than the last, the echo in the grand corridors mocking his misery. The sting of Lamia's slap wasn't merely physical; it was a wound to his soul, a sharp reminder of his failure.
How could I have been so careless? Hadrain thought, the weight of his guilt growing unbearable. He slammed the door behind him, the sound reverberating through the cold stone walls. Leaning against the door, he buried his face in his hands, letting out a shaky breath.
Despite the pain, Hadrain wasn't one to wallow for long. Determination flared in his chest as he thought of the celebration tomorrow. It was to be a grand event, a moment to honor Lamia and Catherine. I'll make things right, he resolved, wiping the tears from his face.
Determined to regain Lamia's trust, Hadrain sought out Malcolm again.
"Master Hadrain," Malcolm said cautiously, noting the young man's weary expression. "What can I do for you?"
"I need your help," Hadrain replied, his voice firm. "The preparations for tomorrow's celebration—are they going as planned?"
"Indeed, sir. The servants are working tirelessly," Malcolm assured him.
"Good. I want to oversee everything personally. No detail is too small. Lamia and Catherine deserve nothing less than perfection," Hadrain said, his resolve hardening.
Malcolm hesitated. "Are you sure, Master Hadrain? After today's... incident, perhaps you should rest."
"I don't have time for rest," Hadrain said, shaking his head. "This is my chance to make amends."
Meanwhile, Callum and Ayla watched from the shadows, their eyes glinting with malice. They had overheard Hadrain's conversation with Malcolm and knew he was planning to involve himself deeply in the celebration.
"This is perfect," Ayla whispered, a wicked grin spreading across her face. "We'll ensure his next mistake is his last."
Callum smirked. "And when he falls, Lamia will have no choice but to rely on us. It's only a matter of time."
As the castle's servants bustled about, Callum and Ayla slithered through the preparations like snakes, planting seeds of chaos. They tampered with the seating arrangements, ensuring the high-ranking nobles would be insulted by their placements. They switched the delicate wines with sour, undrinkable substitutes. And finally, they made their way to the grand dining hall, where the chandelier they had previously sabotaged hung ominously.
"This one will be the crowning jewel," Ayla said, cutting the rope just enough to leave it precariously suspended. "When it falls during the celebration, everyone will know Hadrain is to blame."
Hadrain spent the rest of the evening pouring his heart into the preparations. He personally inspected the floral arrangements, ensuring the roses were fresh and vibrant. He worked with the chefs, tasting each dish and offering suggestions to elevate their flavors. Despite his exhaustion, he smiled at the servants, offering words of encouragement as they toiled.
"Tomorrow must be perfect," he reminded them.
Late into the night, Hadrain found himself standing in the center of the grand hall, his gaze fixed on the shimmering chandelier above. Unbeknownst to him, it hung by a thread, a ticking time bomb set by Callum and Ayla.
"This will do," Hadrain murmured to himself, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Lamia will see how much I care. Maybe... just maybe..."
The next morning, the castle was transformed into a vision of splendor. Banners of deep red and gold adorned every wall, their colors reflecting the royal lineage of Lamia's family. Tables were laden with an array of delicacies, from roasted pheasant to honey-glazed pastries. The scent of fresh lilies filled the air, mingling with the warm aroma of spiced wine.
Guests began to arrive, their elegant attire shimmering under the soft glow of the chandeliers. Queen Fiona stood at the head of the hall, her regal presence commanding attention. By her side were Lamia and Catherine, the latter glowing with the faint blush of pregnancy.
Hadrain stood off to the side, watching from the shadows. His heart swelled with pride as he took in the beauty of the scene. This is it, he thought. This is my redemption.
But his moment of triumph was short-lived.
As the feast progressed, laughter and music filled the hall. Lamia and Catherine sat at the center table, their hands intertwined. Callum and Ayla watched from their seats, their eyes gleaming with anticipation.
It happened suddenly. A faint creak echoed through the hall, followed by a loud snap. The chandelier above the center table began to fall, its descent rapid and unstoppable.
Gasps and screams filled the air as guests scrambled to get out of the way. Hadrain's heart stopped when he realized where it was headed—directly toward Catherine.
"Protego lux!" Hadrain shouted, his voice filled with desperation. The chandelier froze mid-air, shattering into harmless fragments that rained down like sparkling snow.
The room fell silent, all eyes turning to Hadrain. For a moment, relief washed over him. But then he saw Lamia's expression—an unrelenting storm of fury.
Lamia stormed toward Hadrain, his midnight blue eyes blazing.
"What is wrong with you?" he demanded, his voice sharp enough to cut.
"Lamia, I—" Hadrain began, but Lamia didn't let him finish.
"You nearly killed her! Again!" Lamia's voice echoed through the hall. "You're reckless, irresponsible, and a danger to everyone around you!"
"I didn't know—"
"Save your excuses," Lamia snapped. "Do you even think before you act? Or is your incompetence just a natural talent?"
The words hit Hadrain like a blow, but the actual slap came moments later. Lamia's hand connected with his cheek, the sound reverberating through the silent hall.
"I never want to see you near Catherine again," Lamia said coldly. "Do you understand me?"
Hadrain nodded, too stunned to speak.
Lamia turned on his heel, scooping Catherine into his arms. He carried her out of the hall, leaving Hadrain alone amidst the debris and the accusing stares of the guests.
As the hall emptied, Hadrain sank to his knees, his head bowed. He felt the tears before he realized he was crying, the hot streaks of shame and despair rolling down his cheeks.