“There he is, our future king,” the duke burst with pride upon spotting the heir tracing a straight line that led to him. He pointed his half-consumed wine to his nephew’s direction and like sheep to the shepherd, the lords and ladies he was conversing with turned their attention to Luke.   

Lady Eladia Voight dragged her deep-set green eyes at the entirety of the tall gentleman’s appearance – from the top of his head to the tip of his boots, then the other way around. Any comment that might have formed in her head was left unsaid, but to anybody who knew the mannerisms of the forty-something woman, the thinning of those dark red lips would have been a subtle sign that she did not approve of their crown prince’s style choices. His good looks and that aura of confidence were his saving grace. Although she conceded that the man would look good even in rags, Lady Voight would argue strongly against it. Fashion was her business more than anybody’s in that ballroom and whatever these royalties wore would surely be the next fad. “I saw our beloved crown prince enter the venue with his fiancée.” She shrugged, her eyes not leaving its prey even as he drew closer. “Our future king has good sense, though, to have left her in her seat and not force us to pretend that we enjoy interacting with the common people. I mean, it’s exhausting to invent ways to flatter the unworthy, am I right?” Her pompous, modulated laughter was echoed by the others in way of agreement. 

“Just be careful with that opinion around the prince,” warned another lord.

“Nonsense,” barked the duke. “My nephew is the worst out of all of us, everyone knows that.”

Lady Voight nodded. She lowered her voice when she replied with, “I mean, who in his right mind leaves his engagement ball to spend the night with another woman?” It was an open secret in court that contrary to what Queen Camilla declared on live broadcast, her son was not participating in a classified mission that night. Castello di Firanze would not be the home of the royals without rumors of scandalous affairs and acts bouncing off its glass walls. The other lords, satisfied with the example given, nodded in agreement. Unlike the general public that the crown sought to deceive, the highly educated men and women sitting near the top of the food chain were not fooled by the publicity stunt commissioned by the queen herself. They all new what the arranged marriage was all about, and oddly a significant portion of the nobility supported it.

The conversation was hushed, thoughtful faces and conflicting emotions were silenced as the subject of their discussion approached. The lords and ladies, all were at least five years older than Luke, made a customary bow as gesture of obeisance. Their future king, on the other hand, kept a straight, slightly bored expression on his face. “A pleasant afternoon, my lords and ladies,” he said in a manner of greeting. 

“We were just talking about you, your highness,” the duke replied, addressing the younger man formally in public rather than being casual about his status. “For a while there I thought you opted to skip the event for something worthier of your valuable time.”

In the background, one of the hosts announced that the program will be starting in about twenty minutes but encouraged the attendees to help themselves with the small portions of appetizers being offered around by waiters. Luke waited for the masculine voice to finish his piece. “I can name a few somethings which I find are more worthwhile than socializing in an event such as this, my lord, but Evolab does provide employment for a number of our people. It contributes both to the manufacturing industry and the advancement in research, which is in alignment with the economic policies being supported by the queen.”

The duke’s light blue eyes crinkled in the corners when he grinned. “In other words, your mother will not be happy if you choose to not honor this commitment.”

“Precisely.”

The other lords and ladies joined the duke’s lighthearted laughter, but Luke only smiled. Precisely the people he wanted to avoid, which was why he could think of other things he would rather off doing. Just like finally meeting with and talking to the sender of the message that buzzed on his wrist while the older people were pretending to be amused. 

“My prince, I happen to notice your fiancee is sitting with someone.” Lady Voight masked the malice in her sentence with the sweetness of her voice. At her comment, they all turned their attention at the princess elect and the undeniably attractive man occupying the seat that was once Luke’s. It was that precise moment when Rhiane was caught with a carelessly happy expression on her face as she was talking to the bodyguard. Luke had questions running in his head, but it was not the time to entertain such thoughts. 

“I believe that he is the same person who escorted our princess elect to the venue,” added another lord. “Is he perhaps Miss Black’s old acquaintance?” The easiness in her body language was contrary to the stiff and formal manner with which she held herself around him. If he did not know better, he would be inclined to entertain the possibility suggested by the older man, but Luke knew Tobias and Rhiane. He was sure that the Victors ball was the first time the two met. And yet the lord had a point. 

Luke’s expression did not change except for the split-second narrowing of the eyes. “Tobias Lavanchy,” he said the name as if the bodyguard was somebody the nobles should know of. Apparently, that was not the case. Not even the duke seemed to remember who it was. “Tobias is related to me by blood – second cousin, son of my father’s brother. As of this morning, he is Rhiane’s bodyguard.”  

“Oh, I remember the little boy who used to play with you a lot.”

The crown prince smiled at that. “Yes, uncle. He’s the one.”

“But a male bodyguard?” the lady objected. “Shouldn’t she be assigned an equally capable female companion?”

“It is out of my hands, to be honest, my lady. Besides, I really do not care who keeps her company while I do what needs to be done.” The conversation was heading to a direction he would rather not cross, so Luke politely asked to be excused and left the group, parting the crowd of black suits as he did so.