Julian saw them move out of the corner of his eye. A bitter, empty smile touched his lips as he straightened up, pulling away from Elara and leaning back into his grand chair. He picked up his wine glass with a completely steady hand, his nonchalant mask sliding back over his face like a steel shutter, cutting off the raw emotion from a moment before.
"Look at that," Julian murmured smoothly, his baritone voice returning to its lazy, effortless purr. "Your dogs are getting restless, Your Highness. You should probably go give them their orders before they ruin the banquet."
He turned his head away, staring out at the crowded ballroom with cold, hollow eyes, completely shutting her out.
Elara looked from Julian's rigid profile down to her two commanders. For the first time in her life, the silence in her mind wasn't beautiful. It was heavy, cluttered, and completely disrupted by the quiet, broken prince sitting right beside her throne.
