The opulent ballroom was filled with the sound of delicate laughter and clinking glasses, but Xypheron barely heard any of it. His gaze was fixed on one woman—Vexaria.
She stood across the room, surrounded by a cluster of women, all fluttering their lashes and whispering eagerly. Yet, Vexaria didn't seem to care about any of it. Her posture was straight, her face unreadable, as if she were above all this—above him.
It was that indifference that drew him in.
Xypheron was no stranger to women. His name alone sent tremors through the hearts of noble families and desperate courtesans alike. He could have anyone, make them fall at his feet with nothing more than a smile or a few carefully chosen words. It was a game, one he had mastered long ago.
But Vexaria? She was a challenge. Her coldness made her a prize he had to claim.
He watched as she turned away from the others, her sharp eyes scanning the room with a clear disinterest. There was something in the way she moved, something unyielding and untamed, that intrigued him. He was used to women bending to his will, but Vexaria... she didn't even seem to notice his presence.
He didn't like it.
"Prince Xypheron," a familiar voice called, pulling him from his thoughts. It was his cousin, Tarek, with a wry grin plastered on his face. "I see you've found a new interest."
Xypheron's lips curled into a smirk, his eyes never leaving Vexaria. "I don't chase. I take."
Tarek chuckled. "Well, then perhaps it's time you did."
Xypheron's smirk deepened. "You think I can't have her?"
Tarek raised an eyebrow. "You know she's promised to someone else. A warrior from the north. A brute, by all accounts."
Xypheron glanced at the man standing by Vexaria, his hand resting possessively on her shoulder. The man was broad and strong, but he had none of the elegance or cunning that Xypheron possessed. Still, there was something about the way he stood beside Vexaria that made Xypheron's blood boil.
"She's already taken," Tarek continued. "Do you like a challenge, cousin?"
Xypheron's eyes gleamed. "If I want her, I'll have her. Nothing will stand in my way."
Tarek's grin widened. "Then it seems you've got your work cut out for you."
---
As the night wore on, Xypheron found himself growing restless. His mind kept returning to Vexaria. Her defiance, her refusal to be swept away by his charm, his power, his promises—it was a puzzle he couldn't resist.
Finally, the opportunity came.
Vexaria had excused herself from the crowd, and she made her way toward the balcony. Xypheron followed, keeping a safe distance. He watched as she stepped outside, the cool night air tousling her dark hair. The city stretched out below her, the lights twinkling like distant stars.
He moved closer, stepping into the moonlight.
"Such a beautiful night," he said, his voice smooth, coaxing.
Vexaria didn't turn to face him. Instead, she stood still, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. "Do you always follow women around, Prince?"
His lips twitched in amusement. "I prefer to think of it as... an interest."
"I'm not interested in your games," she replied coldly, finally facing him. Her eyes, sharp as daggers, met his with a challenge he hadn't expected.
Xypheron took a step forward, closing the distance between them. "I never lose a game."
Her eyes never wavered. "Then perhaps you should try one you can't win."
Xypheron's heart skipped a beat, but he masked his surprise with a chuckle. "You think you can resist me? No one ever does."
Vexaria's lips curled into a smile—one that didn't reach her eyes. "I'm not like the others."
He was silent for a moment, studying her. There was something about her—something different. It wasn't fear or admiration in her gaze. It was something far more dangerous.
Xypheron, the unflappable prince, felt a flicker of doubt. He hadn't expected this.
She turned away then, walking back into the warmth of the ballroom. Her final words hung in the air.
"I don't need to be conquered."
---
To Xypheron, those words were a declaration of war.
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