Chapter 181: His Creation

Kairo:

I had never been particularly fond of social gatherings organized by noble families, and if there was one person in Starfall capable of making me despise such events even more, it was Selene Valemont.

Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed parties. Give me good alcohol, beautiful women, loud music, and a crowd that appreciated my presence, and I’d happily spend an entire night entertaining myself. But there was a considerable difference between a party thrown for pleasure and one where the Regents gathered beneath expensive chandeliers to discuss political alliances while pretending to care about one another’s well-being.

I had skipped countless such events over the years without losing a moment of sleep, regardless of which House had sent the invitation. Yet here I was, dressed in a black suit, holding a glass of wine, and standing in a ballroom filled with people whose conversations bored me to death. All because of one girl.

Princess Eleanora Argentis.

The same girl who had blocked my number, refused to look at me unless absolutely necessary, and made it painfully clear that whatever had existed between us was over. Not like I didn’t deserve it.

But apparently, I wasn’t the only idiot who had surrendered his evening for her sake. Reign stood beside his father, wearing the expression of a man who would rather be anywhere else. Alaric was standing with Esme near one of the tall windows, while Lorien had only just arrived, looking as infuriatingly composed as ever. The five of us in one place, attending a gathering neither of us would willingly choose under ordinary circumstances. It was almost funny. Almost.

I finished my first glass of wine within ten minutes of arriving, already considering whether I could disappear into a quieter corner when the room suddenly fell silent. Conversations stopped mid-sentence. Heads turned toward the ballroom entrance, and something inside me reacted before my mind caught up.

I looked toward the double doors, and I knew she had arrived. Call it instinct, magic, or whatever ridiculous explanation my heart had invented to keep me connected to her, but I felt her presence before I actually saw her.

The doors opened, and she stepped inside after removing a long black coat. For one suspended second, I forgot how to breathe. It wasn’t simply because she looked breathtaking, although she did. It wasn’t because her silver eyes swept across the ballroom, passed over dozens of people, and landed on me for two brief seconds before she looked away. It wasn’t even the humiliating little somersault my heart performed at the sight of her.

No. It was the gown. My gown. The one I’d created during the previous summer break, the one I had considered my favorite creation so far, had been intended to become the next sensation under my boutique’s label.

I had spent weeks perfecting every detail, from the cut of the fabric to the placement of every rhinestone, before deciding it was ready for the market. And then Elara had walked into my boutique, tried it on, and made me realize that no model, no celebrity, and no noblewoman could ever wear it the way she could.

I had ended up refusing to let the design enter production, keeping it away from the public and ensuring that the world would never know it existed. I’d told myself it was a business decision. A private design. A piece that simply wasn’t ready. All lies, of course. The truth was that the moment I’d seen her wearing it, I had known the gown belonged to her.

And now she stood in the middle of Selene Valemont’s ballroom wearing it, looking like she had been created specifically to ruin whatever remained of my sanity.

Her long black hair had been gathered into a high, slightly messy bun, with a few silver and black strands left loose to frame her face. Whoever had done her makeup deserved a raise because every detail highlighted those impossible silver eyes and the rosy lips I had kissed not so long ago. Lips I’d once tasted without thinking about consequences, lips that had made me forget every sensible reason I should have stayed away from her.

The smooth black fabric fitted her curves like a second skin, held in place by two delicate rhinestone straps resting over her shoulders. The entire back was open, save for the rhinestone chains that draped across her skin in precise, elegant lines. I recognized every single one of them because I’d handmade those chains myself, just as I’d designed the straps.

The neckline fell with effortless elegance, tasteful enough for a royal gathering while revealing the faintest curve of her breasts. The fitted waist accentuated her figure before the skirt flowed over her hips, and the daring slit along her left thigh revealed a long, toned leg that made several men around the ballroom forget whatever conversation they had been having.

Princess Eleanora Argentis was a walking disaster tonight, and I was beginning to suspect that Selene Valemont’s welcoming party would end with at least half the men present making fools of themselves. The worst part? I couldn’t even blame them. She looked magnificent.

But as my gaze moved across the room and caught the way certain men watched her, my admiration twisted into something far less pleasant. Their eyes lingered too long on the open back, followed the movement of the slit, and returned to her face with unmistakable interest.

My fingers tightened around my wineglass. The gown might have been designed by me, but that didn’t mean I was prepared to watch an entire ballroom appreciate what I’d once considered mine to admire privately.

I had absolutely no right to feel possessive. I knew that. She wasn’t mine. She had never promised to be mine. And after what I’d done, I was probably the last man in Starfall who deserved to think of her that way. Yet the sight of another man looking at her as though he was imagining what it would be like to stand beside her made something ugly and jealous stir inside my chest.