"Me?" Lola asked softly, her voice trembling with the flush rising to her cheeks. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, eyes lowering as though the stone floor had suddenly become very interesting.
"Yes, you," Xander said, his voice quiet but sincere. "I had forgotten how exquisitely beautiful you are. But now… seeing you like this, in a new light, I find myself lost for words. The ones I wish to use to describe you…" he paused, breath faltering, "...they haven't been invented yet."
Lola gave a small, nervous laugh, still not meeting his gaze. "You could always invent them yourself, Your Majesty."
He stepped closer, eyes searching hers. "Lola…"
But his words were interrupted by the sound of footsteps and hushed voices. Two maids swept past them in conversation, unaware of the tension they were disrupting.
"Have you heard?" one whispered. "The Empress Dowager is throwing a royal ball for Lady Adriana."
"That's not all," the other added. "I heard she plans to announce her as the future Empress. Imagine being her. What fortune."
They dipped low in a curtsey as they passed, but Xander said nothing. His jaw had tightened. He turned sharply toward Lola.
She was already staring ahead, her expression unreadable except for the stiffness in her posture, and the cold civility in her voice.
"I should take my leave, Your Highness," she said with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I wouldn't want to intrude on matters of state."
"Lola…"
But she was already turning, walking briskly away. Her steps were light, but hurried, as though escape was her only refuge from the sudden ache in her chest.
Inside the palace's grand ballroom, chaos hummed like a restless hive. Servants bustled about under the sharp gaze of the Empress Dowager, who stood in the center of the room with regal authority, issuing orders like a general before battle.
"No, no…not the gold drapes. The ivory ones, for heaven's sake. This is a celebration, not a funeral."
The doors flung open with a force that startled even the footmen.
Xander stormed in.
He looked every bit the Emperor, broad-shouldered, commanding, and utterly furious.
Victoria turned slowly, one brow arched in icy amusement. "Is there something the matter, Your Majesty?"
He drew a sharp breath, reigning in his temper. "I heard you're hosting a royal ball… for Lady Adriana?"
"Yes," she replied breezily. "Invitations have gone out. Preparations are underway. Tomorrow night must dazzle."
"And you didn't think it necessary to inform me?" he asked, voice low and taut.
Her expression tightened, just barely. "Why would I? You'd find out soon enough. And I don't need your permission to celebrate my future daughter-in-law."
"I am the Emperor," he said evenly. "Such matters should go through me."
Victoria stepped forward, chin high. "And you are Emperor because of me. Don't forget that."
At that moment, Adriana stepped into the doorway. She paused when she saw them, then offered a warm smile.
"Your Majesties," she greeted with a graceful curtsy.
"Perfect," Victoria said, smiling indulgently. "Adriana, take Alexander with you. He's disrupting my arrangements. Later, the Royal Seamstress will take your measurements for a gown fit for tomorrow night."
"As it pleases you, Your Highness," Adriana said, slipping her arm through Xander's without hesitation. "Come, Your Majesty."
Victoria turned away, muttering under her breath with satisfaction. "Such a perfect couple."
But Xander didn't move. He let Adriana guide him from the room, though his gaze remained fixed on the door they'd exited through, his mind clearly elsewhere.
And far behind them, in the quiet of her chambers, Lola stood still at her window.
Watching the palace from a distance.
Heart pounding. Eyes shining.
And a single thought echoing through her soul:
So this is how it ends.