Danae sat by the fountain, her face flushed with frustration as she confided in Camille about her failed attempt to win Dominic's affection.
"He dared mention some woman in my presence! And wouldn't even tell me who she was. I hate him!" Danae said, dabbing her tear-filled eyes with the hem of her dress.
Camille sighed softly, shaking her head with a gentle chuckle. She reached over and took Danae's hand, her gloved fingers soft and comforting. "What you don't know, Danae," she said, her tone gentle but firm, "is that Mr. Dominic is already taken. He's married."
Danae's eyes widened in disbelief. "He's what?!"
Frustrated, she kicked a small stone across the garden, her sobs returning with fresh intensity. "Why can't I have him? It's not fair!" she cried, her voice breaking.
Camille sighed again, this time wiping Danae's tears with the edge of her gloved hand. "He's my late aunt's son," she explained softly. "We realized too late that his father had caused many crimes before he was deported. You can't really blame Dominic for the choices of his family, can you?"
Danae sniffled, her head drooping slightly as she pulled her hands from Camille's grip. "You're right," she mumbled, her fingers nervously fidgeting in her lap. "I just... I thought you and Clarisse were close to him. I saw you in the garden with one of Dominic's men, and I assumed..."
Camille smiled faintly, understanding Danae's confusion. "Oh, that was just a misunderstanding," she said kindly. "But Dominic... he's not someone you should be chasing, especially now."
Danae nodded, though her heart still ached, the truth settling in with the weight of unfulfilled hopes.
"Oh... his name is Caleb Wimsworth. He's Dominic's assistant," Camille replied with a giggle, her cheeks flushing slightly as she spoke.
"I see..." Danae's sadness faded into a knowing smile as she glanced up at the night sky. "You're in love with him, aren't you?"
Camille blushed deeper, her excitement barely contained. "He's quite the gentleman... I would tell Grandmother about it. I'm sure she wouldn't object to our relationship." Her eyes lit up as she spoke, her gloved hands clasping together with a mix of hope and joy.
Danae's smile faltered as she turned to face Camille. "But Caleb... he'll be leaving Eardoznia soon. You might not see him again."
Camille, undeterred, scoffed lightly. "I will see him again. I'll visit Verdaselles and stay with him for a while. I'm not interested in marrying the eldest son of the Beinron family... Clarisse can have him if she wants." Her voice took on a frustrated edge as she folded her arms, the thought of her arranged marriage clearly weighing on her.
Danae shook her head, offering a quiet warning. "You're lucky no one was in the garden today. If anyone had seen you with Caleb, they'd surely report that you're in a secret relationship."
"It doesn't matter." Camille scoffed again, her frustration growing. "Clarisse wanted to marry into that family, but Grandmother chose me instead, like I was some substitute bride to fulfill their precious alliance. All because we're noble blood." She rolled her eyes, clearly bitter about the situation.
Flashback - Navier's Office
Camille stormed into her grandmother Navier's office, her voice trembling with anger. "Why would you choose me to marry Oscar Beinron? This is what Clarisse wanted, not me! You just decide things as you please, like I'm some pawn in your game. You want me to end up like Aunt Marie!" She clenched her fists, lowering her head to hide the tears welling in her eyes.
Navier, her expression stern, struck her walking stick against the floor, the sound echoing sharply in the room. "Enough!" she said in a voice laced with fury, as Camille's mother, Elena, stepped forward, her face stern as well.
"Listen to me, young lady," Elena said, her voice cutting through the tension. "You will marry Oscar, whether you like it or not. Clarisse has traveled abroad to study, and we don't know if or when she will return. As her sister, you will replace her as the bride, and that's final."
Camille's voice trembled as she spoke. "But Aunt Marie... she—"
"Do not ever mention Marie in this house again!" Navier interrupted, her voice cold. "She is no longer one of us. She left with Victor Brusward and has no place in our family."
Camille's eyes widened in shock. "What? Aunt Marie is—?"
"It doesn't matter anymore," Navier said dismissively. "When Clarisse returns, she may marry into another family. Until then, you will cut off all contact with any other men. You are to marry the heir of the Beinron family, and that is final."
"What business does the Beinron family even deal in?" Camille asked, her voice subdued as she wiped the tears from her cheeks.
"Oscar's father is the senator of Eardoznia," Navier replied coldly. "You, of all people, should know more about the affairs of the country instead of staying indoors and ignoring your responsibilities."
Navier tapped her walking stick on the ground with a cough, her voice growing more forceful. "As a Capulet, you must be prepared for this. We will wait until you're older, and then the marriage will proceed."
End of Flashback
As the memory faded, Camille fidgeted with her fingers, her expression pained. "And now, Clarisse has returned after all these years, and they'll be marrying her off to some other family. Meanwhile, I'll be left here as the senator's wife... all because of their choice."
Her gloved fists clenched tightly in frustration, and Danae stared at them in silence, sensing the depth of Camille's inner struggle. The weight of their shared burdens hung heavy between them, a silent understanding passing through the quiet night air.
"That won't be necessary..." A familiar voice interrupted the conversation, causing both women to turn their heads. A strawberry-blonde woman in a striking red dress approached them—Clarisse.
"Clarisse?" Camille called out, her surprise evident as she recognized her twin sister.
Clarisse's expression was calm, yet there was an underlying sharpness in her tone. "Dominic's arrival made Grandmother reconsider a lot of her decisions. I told her I wanted to marry into the Beinron family, and she agreed. I've admired Oscar ever since he attended our coming-of-age ceremony." Clarisse let out a soft sigh, her mind momentarily drifting back to that night, to the dance she had shared with Oscar.
Camille's face brightened with a mix of excitement and relief. She quickly rose from her seat and hurried over to her sister, her skirts swishing as she moved. "Thank you, sister!" she exclaimed, gripping Clarisse's hands. "But... what about me?" Her voice wavered, hope mixing with uncertainty.
Clarisse furrowed her brow, her gaze sharpening as she studied Camille's face. "You? What do you mean, 'what about you'?" she asked, raising an eyebrow, clearly puzzled by the question.
Camille hesitated for a moment, glancing toward Danae, who watched silently from the side. Then, with a deep breath, she confessed, her cheeks turning a deep shade of red, "I... I'm in love with Caleb. Dominic's assistant."
Clarisse's lips curved into a knowing smile, her eyes gleaming with subtle amusement. "Oh? Well, that's quite unexpected," she said, her voice calm yet carrying an air of superiority. "But that's good, isn't it? If he's Dominic's assistant, he must be trustworthy, just like Dominic. He once told me about his loyalty and travels with Dominic."
Clarisse paused, her eyes narrowing slightly as she glanced down at their joined hands. "But you know the rules, Camille. You'll need to convince Grandmother and Mother first. They'll have plans for you—likely another alliance marriage to secure our family's future."
Camille's expression tightened, a flicker of anxiety crossing her face as she held onto her sister's hand. "But... I—"
Clarisse, however, gently patted Camille's hand, her touch more dismissive than affectionate. "I'll be going back now. There's much I need to prepare." She casually withdrew her hand from Camille's grasp, leaving her sister standing there, her hands empty and her heart heavy.
As Clarisse turned to leave, her movements were graceful, her demeanor poised as ever, as though the conversation had barely stirred her emotions. Camille, on the other hand, remained still for a moment, her chest rising and falling with restrained tension. Her eyes followed Clarisse's retreating figure, a mix of frustration and longing swirling within her.
From her spot by the fountain, Danae watched the scene unfold with quiet curiosity. She could feel the tension lingering in the air—the subtle clash of two sisters walking different paths, each weighed down by expectations and unspoken desires. Camille's hands, once clasped in excitement, now fidgeted nervously at her sides as she turned back to Danae, her smile faded and her thoughts clouded.
The sisters may have shared the same blood, but at that moment, it was clear how different their futures—and perhaps their hearts—truly were.
The Next Morning...
Dominic stepped out of his bedroom, dressed sharply in a tailored suit, his strawberry-blonde hair styled into a sleek pigtail that rested neatly at the back. A few silky strands fell across his forehead, framing his face with an effortless charm. His coat was draped casually over his shoulder, exuding confidence, while his free hand clutched a letter. He handed it to Caleb, his tone firm but composed. "Make sure this is delivered to Verdaselles before the end of today," he instructed. Caleb gave a quick nod and hurried off to the post office to fulfill his task.
Dominic sighed softly, his eyes falling to his bandaged arm, which was supported by a sling. He flexed his fingers slightly, feeling the stiffness. "Today's the first day of the trial," he muttered under his breath. "Charles has already gone. The case will be solved, and Evangeline will be fine for now. George will protect her. Luckily, Eardoznia and Verdaselles share the same time zone."
As he descended the grand staircase, Dominic noticed Oliver waiting for him at the bottom. Oliver, with his silver hair lying neatly across his head, wore a crisp grey waistcoat with matching trousers, exuding elegance. The gleam in his eyes matched his well-groomed appearance, a stark contrast to Dominic's more relaxed but no less refined demeanor. Oliver's silver locks glistened under the morning light, giving him an ethereal presence that drew glances from the passing servants. They watched in silent admiration as Dominic passed, captivated by his commanding presence.
Oliver gestured toward the door, his movements fluid and confident. "The physician is waiting. Let's go," he said, his voice steady as he motioned for Dominic to follow. Dominic gave a nod of acknowledgment, and the two of them made their way outside.
Parked just outside was a sleek vintage automobile, its polished black body gleaming under the morning sun. The chrome accents on the car's grille and headlamps reflected the light like mirrors, while the tires crunched softly on the gravel driveway. The car, a symbol of modernity and sophistication, stood waiting to whisk them away.
Dominic slid into the passenger seat with ease, while Oliver followed closely behind, taking the driver's seat. The hum of the engine came to life as they pulled away from the estate, the morning air filled with a quiet anticipation.
Back at Verdaselles - The House of Serenity
Evangeline's Bedroom
Evangeline relaxed in the large, ornate bathtub, the warm water surrounding her. She wore a thin dress that clung to her body, becoming almost translucent from the water, revealing her naked skin beneath the wet fabric. In her hand, she held a book, attempting to focus, but her attention kept shifting to Richard, who sat across from her in the bath. He was bare-chested, with only a pair of wet trousers clinging to him.
Richard's hands were on her feet, massaging them slowly, his fingers working skillfully over her polished toes. He watched her with a teasing smile as he took one of her toes into his mouth, sucking gently in a way that sent shivers through her body. Evangeline bit her lip, her eyes closing as she let out a soft moan. His tongue played over her polished nails, his actions both sensual and playful. She smiled down at him, her cheeks flushed.
Leaning forward, Richard kissed her, the heat between them rising as her book slipped from her hand and hit the floor with a soft thud. His hands moved up to her thigh, caressing it as his lips trailed from her mouth to her ear, nibbling lightly. Evangeline's breathing grew heavier, her body reacting to his touch as he grabbed her waist, pulling her closer until their wet bodies pressed together in the bath.
Suddenly, a knock came at the door, interrupting the moment.
"My Lady... today is the day of the trial," came the maid's voice from outside.
Richard's hands were cupping Evangeline's breasts, gently caressing them as her soft moans filled the bathroom. At the sound of the maid, her moan abruptly stopped. She turned her head slightly toward the door, her chest still rising and falling from the intensity of their moment.
"Oh, that's true..." she whispered, her voice low and breathless. Richard, unwilling to stop, trailed his hand down her body, grazing her inner thigh. Evangeline's lips parted in response, but the urgency of the day caught up to her.
"I'll be right there..." she called out, louder this time, while Richard's fingers lingered on her skin.
The maid responded, "Yes, My Lady," and the sound of the door shutting echoed softly through the room.
"Richard..." Evangeline said in a husky tone, her fingers trailing over his arm. But Richard pulled back slightly, his hand resting on her inner thigh for a moment longer before he sighed and withdrew.
"We should go, My Lady... I'll change and wait for you downstairs," Richard said, his voice filled with restraint. He gently swept a wet lock of hair away from her face, kissing her cheek tenderly before stepping out of the bathtub. The water dripped from his muscular frame as he left the room.
Evangeline sighed and leaned forward, resting her arms at the edge of the bathtub as she watched him leave, the warmth of the moment lingering in the air.
A few minutes later, Evangeline descended the grand staircase, her presence commanding attention. She was dressed in a stunning white puff-sleeved dress adorned with delicate floral embroidery, the hem brushing just below her knees. Her white lace gloves covered her elegant hands, and a feathered fascinator sat atop her head, perched at an angle, completing her look as a high lady and Viceregal consort. Her hair was styled in soft curls at the ends, perfectly complementing her refined appearance. She wore low white heels, making her steps graceful yet purposeful as she moved.
Magdalene accompanied her, walking slightly behind, her posture stiff and formal. As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Evangeline spotted Richard waiting for her, dressed sharply in his bodyguard attire. His eyes softened as they met hers, a hint of admiration passing between them. With a gentleman's grace, Richard stepped forward, gently taking her hand and placing a light kiss on it, his lips brushing the fabric of her lace gloves.
Evangeline smiled at him warmly, though the moment carried an air of formality, her role as Dominic's wife ever present in their interactions.
Magdalene, walking a few paces behind, averted her gaze, pretending not to notice the exchange. She discreetly turned her head away, focusing on the task ahead. With quiet efficiency, she opened the door to the awaiting carriage. The ornate vehicle gleamed in the morning light, ready to take them to the courthouse and some guards sitting on horses surrounding the carriage
Without a word, the trio moved toward the carriage, the tension of the upcoming trial thick in the air, though Evangeline carried herself with the grace befitting her position as the Viceregal consort. As Richard helped her into the carriage, Magdalene remained on the sidelines, her face betraying nothing, though her thoughts churned behind her stoic expression.
Together, they set off toward the courthouse, the wheels of the carriage clattering over the cobblestone streets as the city of Verdaselles passed by, the weight of their mission looming ahead.
The Imperial Court – Ednan, Verdaselles
The Imperial Court of Ednan, a magnificent testament to the fusion of fantasy and early 20th-century architecture, loomed before them. The building was a towering structure of white marble, etched with intricate silver detailing that glistened in the sunlight. Grand arches and spires adorned the facade, while enormous stained-glass windows depicted mythical figures and historical battles. Steampunk elements, such as brass gears and clockwork mechanisms, adorned the walls, subtly integrated into the traditional architecture, symbolizing the modern advancements of the time.
Khardis sat in his vehicle, parked near the entrance of the grand Imperial Court. From the window, he spotted a woman with striking platinum blonde hair, accompanied by a bodyguard with brown hair. The Sarogaths guards, identifiable by their distinct uniforms, flanked them as they made their way into the building.
"That must be Evangeline... she's as beautiful as ever," he thought, swallowing hard as he admired her, leaning back in his seat.
"It wouldn't hurt to talk to her, would it?" he said, turning to his elder sister, Khadriane.
Khadriane, with her black hair tipped in blue and styled elegantly, shared the same piercing blue eyes as her younger brother. She wore a maroon gown that shimmered slightly in the light, paired with sparkly red shoes. A sinister smile curled on her lips as she crossed her legs and let out a low chuckle.
"It doesn't hurt... but that'll be after the court session. You don't want to get on Dominic's nerves, do you?" she teased, taking a drag from her ornate pipe.
"We dealt with Vincent last night. He'll submit to what we said. As long as we don't provoke the wrath of the royal family, we're in the clear," Khardis replied, his voice steady.
Khadriane leaned over and gently caressed his cheek, locking eyes with him. "Patience, pretty boy... it's just three or four more days. Everything will be resolved soon enough," she whispered, gripping his chin before he stepped out of the vehicle.
The polished stone courtyard leading to the entrance of the Imperial Court gleamed under the warm, golden glow of the ornate iron lampposts, which illuminated even during the brightest hours of the day. As they entered, the towering ceilings of the court loomed above, held aloft by colossal columns adorned with intricate carvings depicting historical events and mythical tales. Chandeliers, a marriage of magic and steampunk technology, cast a soft, ethereal glow across the grand hallways, adding a layer of mystique to the court's air of authority. This was a place where justice met power in all its splendor.
The courtroom itself was just as majestic. Rows of polished wooden benches filled the hall, facing a massive judge's podium crafted from dark mahogany and set upon a raised platform. Behind the podium, a large circular window framed in gold allowed light to stream in, casting a dramatic silhouette over the proceedings. The walls were adorned with portraits of past rulers and judges, their stern gazes watching over the courtroom. Alongside the traditional décor, brass cogs and gears adorned the walls, subtly working to control the temperature and lighting of the room—a perfect blend of the old world and the new. The atmosphere was tense, as everyone awaited the arrival of the judge.
Edward Brusward sat with his brother Benjamin, their presence a dark cloud over the proceedings. In the royal family's row sat Prince George, and a middle-aged, handsome man with white hair and a crown upon his head—King Claude, Evangeline's grand-uncle. His new wife, Queen Edsha, sat beside him. Edsha, a woman not much older than Evangeline's late mother, was striking with her blonde hair and commanding presence as the new queen of Venian and Verdaselles.The members of the Khardes family sat on another row only Khardis and Khadriane was present with bodyguards.
Evangeline sat in a separate row, accompanied by Magdalene, Richard, a few bodyguards, and the family's appointed butler. Her gaze hardened as she caught sight of the Bruswards. The mere sight of them stirred her fury, memories of betrayal and past grudges rushing back to the surface. She clenched her fists tightly, her knuckles turning white. Richard, ever the calming presence, gently placed his hand over hers, squeezing it lightly. He shook his head, silently advising her to remain composed.
With a frustrated sigh, Evangeline tore her eyes away from the Bruswards, her scoff barely audible. She had long held a deep resentment toward the family, especially Dominic, whose mere existence reminded her of all that had gone wrong. The Bruswards were not to be trusted, and she swore to herself that one day, they would pay.
Meanwhile, Edward's attention shifted from the formalities of the courtroom to Magdalene. His eyes narrowed with a dangerous glint, and a smug grin spread across his face as he spotted her. Lust flickered in his gaze as he imagined her without clothes, his mind wandering back to their last heated encounter. Magdalene noticed his stare and felt a wave of disgust wash over her. She clenched her fists and quickly turned away, trying to shake off the memories of that night.
But Edward wasn't finished. He licked his lips suggestively, knowing it would get under her skin, and casually wiped his mouth with his leather-gloved hand. With a mocking flourish, he blew a kiss in her direction, his smirk deepening when she pointedly ignored him.
"Looking forward to our next meeting, darling," Edward murmured under his breath, his tone dripping with mockery.
Magdalene rolled her eyes, scoffing as she turned her head, refusing to acknowledge his lecherous behavior. Beside Edward, Benjamin watched his nephew's antics with a deep sigh, shaking his head in disapproval. Edward's flirtations and lustful displays had no place
Khardis fixed his gaze on Evangeline, chuckling to himself as he shook his head before glancing back at her, narrowing his eyes with a gleam of desire.
"It's an honor… seeing you again, Lady Evangeline," he mused internally, his focus soon shifting to the man sitting beside her.
"That must be Richard... so they share a bed, huh? Pfft, Dominic, Dominic, you're not doing your duty as a husband. If you won't, it's not so wrong for me to want her too..." Khardis thought, stroking his chin thoughtfully. His eyes lingered on Evangeline, admiring her beauty and the allure she held, even more tempting because of her affair with Richard. The fact that she was with another man, despite being Dominic's wife, only added to her appeal in Khardis' twisted mind.
Khadriane, meanwhile, observed Edward from across the room, noticing his flirtatious behavior with one of the women near Evangeline—most likely her maid, she assumed. With a sigh of exasperation, she shook her head, tapping her fingers lightly on the edge of her now-extinguished smoking pipe.
Khardis, still eyeing Evangeline, felt a growing urge to pursue her. The knowledge of her affair with Richard only fueled his desire, a thrill running through him at the thought of possessing what Dominic had failed to protect. In his mind, Evangeline was fair game. If Dominic wasn't going to uphold his marital duties, then why shouldn't someone else?
"That pervert never changes," she thought, a smirk playing on her lips. Edward's lack of subtlety amused her, even if his antics were predictable. He was reckless, but Khadriane enjoyed watching the chaos unfold from a distance.
Seated discreetly next to Edward was Sein, his appearance altered by a clever disguise to avoid drawing suspicion from Evangeline or her family. He sat in silence, his thoughts wandering to the events of the previous night. Dealing with Vincent had been messy, but ultimately, the man had succumbed to their demands in jail. The pieces were slowly falling into place, and Sein, like the others, played his part in the grander scheme.
Flashback - The Previous Night
Sein strode confidently through the dimly lit prison, his polished shoes clicking against the stone floor. He was flanked by a police officer who led the way, and behind him, two of his bodyguards followed in silence. They stopped in front of Vincent's cell, the iron bars creaking open as Sein stepped in, waving a paper lazily in his hand.
Vincent, disheveled and defeated, lifted his head at the sound of the gate. His face twisted in contempt as he recognized his visitor. Before he could speak, Sein smirked, his voice dripping with mocking authority.
"Oi… Bastard. Wakey, wakey," Sein called out casually, twirling the paper. At his signal, the bodyguards grabbed Vincent, who struggled futilely against their iron grip.
"I've got one more job for you," Sein said with a sly smile, leaning in as if to share a secret.
Vincent winced, groaning as one of the guards yanked his hair. "I've done enough for you and Bethany. What else do you want from me?" he spat, his voice hoarse with anger and exhaustion.
Sein's expression didn't change, though his tone grew colder. "Oh, you've done plenty, haven't you? Stabbing the King's grand-niece, of all people. What were you thinking?" he jeered. "Here's the thing, Vincent. A rat like you has no power. But, lucky for you, I'm willing to help… if you do exactly what I say."
Sein's eyes gleamed with dark amusement as he continued, "Prince George is already planning an execution for your family. I suggest you take the blame for everything and die quietly. Maybe then, I'll help them escape."
Vincent's face paled, his heart sinking at the news. But Sein wasn't finished. He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. "And if you don't? Well, your beautiful wife… she'll be sold. You know what kind of men would pay for someone like her. Do you understand me?"
Vincent gasped, his eyes flickering toward the paper in Sein's hand. "Where did you get that? I didn't write it! How does it have my handwriting?" he stammered, his voice cracking under the weight of fear.
Sein's smirk deepened as he pressed a knife under Vincent's chin, his gaze icy. "Don't concern yourself with how. Just do as I say. I won't let anyone tarnish my reputation—or my family's."
Vincent clenched his fists, his breath ragged as anger flared inside him. He jerked free from the guards' hold, lunging at Sein. "You bastard! Don't you dare threaten my family!"
In a swift, fluid motion, Sein slashed with his knife, and Vincent's scream echoed through the cell as his ear fell to the floor. Blood poured down the side of his face as he clutched at the wound, gasping in pain. Sein wiped the blade against his glove, disgust flickering in his eyes.
"Piece of trash," Sein sneered, kicking Vincent hard in the stomach, sending him sprawling to the ground. "You dared lay a hand on Evangeline, and now you act bold? Pathetic."
Though Vincent was sobbing now, his body shaking in pain and defeat, Sein showed no sympathy. He tossed an empty sheet of paper onto the ground before Vincent, who weakly reached for it with a bloodstained hand.
Sein swiftly kicked Vincent's face, sending him crashing back into the dirt. "Don't you dare touch that paper with those filthy hands," Sein hissed. "I'll make sure you get treatment—after you do what I tell you. And if you get stubborn, I'll take more than just your ear. Have I made myself clear?"
Sein stood tall, wiping the blood off his knife with elegance, his cold eyes fixed on Vincent's crumpled form. There was no remorse, only contempt for the man he saw as nothing more than a pawn in his game. With one last glance at the broken man before him, Sein turned on his kneel and strode out, leaving Vincent sobbing in his own blood
~Back to the present~
Sein smirked from beneath his hat, a glint of mischief in his eyes as he surveyed the room. He scoffed quietly, turning his attention to Prince George and King Claude seated at the front. "Dominic isn't around. Is something going on, or has he simply been absent all this time? There hasn't been any announcement regarding his whereabouts. Is he a coward, running away, or has he fallen ill? I doubt it," he thought, scanning the room for any sign of Dominic.
The atmosphere in the courtroom buzzed with whispers and glances exchanged among the attendees. The soft glow from the ornate chandeliers cast intricate shadows on the walls, adding to the air of intrigue. Sein's gaze drifted back to Evangeline, who sat stiffly beside Richard, her demeanor a mask of poise hiding her simmering anger. The tension between them was palpable, and Sein couldn't help but feel a flicker of amusement at the thought of her frustration.
As he leaned back in his seat, Sein remembered the earlier confrontation with Vincent. The thrill of asserting his dominance over the man echoed in his mind, invigorating him like a fine wine. He relished the thought of how easily he had twisted Vincent's fear to his advantage, yet he also felt a twinge of annoyance at the absence of Dominic.
"Where are you, Dominic?" Sein murmured under his breath, the words laced with a hint of irritation. "Surely, you're not hiding from your responsibilities. Your absence leaves a gaping hole in the power dynamics here."
With a slow, calculated movement, he adjusted his hat and leaned forward, trying to catch snippets of conversation. The murmurs of the royal family and the tension among the other attendees suggested that something significant was brewing.
His attention flicked back to Edward, who was leaning against the wall, his eyes fixated on Magdalene, a smirk playing on his lips. Sein could sense the lustful glances exchanged between them, and it made him chuckle softly. Edward had always had a way with women, but Sein knew that beneath that charming facade was a dangerous person inside based on his closeness to him.
As Sein's eyes narrowed, he realized that both Evangeline and Magdalene were caught in a web of their own emotions—resentment toward the Bruswards and their reckless actions. The air crackled with unspoken words, and Sein wondered how long it would be before their grudges boiled over.
He felt a sense of anticipation building within him, relishing the idea of watching the storm unfold. With a flourish, he adjusted his cuffs, ready to play whatever role was necessary to steer the outcome in his favor. As he leaned back, he let a smile creep onto his face, envisioning the chaos that would ensue in the absence of the ever-calm Dominic.
Then the door swung open, and all the attendees turned their heads in that direction. Charles Willows walked in, clad in his polished police uniform, exuding an undeniable charm. His youthful appearance, accentuated by his striking blonde hair, caught the attention of several women in the room, who couldn't help but drool over the handsome officer. As he entered, he glanced toward Evangeline and waved, prompting her to return the gesture with a warm smile. Magdalene, sitting beside her, nodded in acknowledgment, a slight smile playing on her lips as his fellow policemen followed behind.
Just then, the unmistakable sight of a polished shoe appeared in the doorway, signaling the arrival of the judge. The shoe was elegantly crafted, hinting at authority and experience, as the judge stepped into the courtroom with a commanding presence that immediately drew the room's focus. The atmosphere shifted, anticipation hanging thick in the air as everyone braced themselves for the proceedings to begin.