The orchestra swelled, violins weaving a slow, elegant melody through the glittering ballroom.
Sebastian's hand settled firmly at Eliana's waist as he guided her into the dance. His touch was steady, confident, but gentle—like he was always aware of the fragile space she occupied in the world around them.
Eliana followed his lead easily, her gown flowing around her as they turned across the polished floor.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Sebastian leaned slightly closer, his voice low enough that only she could hear.
"You're enjoying this."
Eliana blinked up at him, feigning innocence. "Enjoying what?"
His lips curved faintly. "Watching half the nobility choke on their assumptions."
A soft laugh escaped her before she could stop it.
"I wouldn't say half," she whispered. "Perhaps… most."
Sebastian chuckled quietly, the sound warm against her ear.
Across the room, whispers continued to ripple through the watching crowd.
"They look… happy," someone murmured.
"Too comfortable for a marriage arranged overnight," another added suspiciously.
"But look at the prince," an older duchess said, fanning herself slowly. "That is not the face of a man merely tolerating his wife."
Indeed, Sebastian's gaze never left Eliana.
As the dance carried them in a slow circle, his thumb brushed lightly against the fabric at her waist.
"Are you nervous?" he asked softly.
Eliana hesitated.
Not about the crowd. Not about the whispers.
But about something else entirely.
"My family," she admitted. "They can be… unpredictable."
Sebastian's expression didn't change, but his hold on her tightened slightly.
"Then they will learn quickly," he said calmly.
"Learn what?"
His eyes darkened with quiet certainty.
"That you are under my protection now."
The music lifted toward its final movement, faster now, more dramatic.
Sebastian spun her gracefully before pulling her back into his arms.
Eliana's breath caught.
For a moment, the ballroom disappeared—the whispers, the nobles, even the music faded into the background.
There was only the warmth of his hand in hers.
Only the steady rhythm of their steps.
Only him.
But from the balcony above, unseen by most of the guests, Princess Fiona watched with clenched fingers gripping the railing.
Her humiliation still burned, but something colder was replacing it now.
Resolve.
Her eyes followed Sebastian as he guided Eliana effortlessly across the floor.
"So that's how it is," she murmured quietly to herself.
Her gaze sharpened.
"Then we'll see how long this perfect little love story lasts."
Below, unaware of the storm quietly beginning to form, Sebastian dipped Eliana gently as the music ended.
The crowd erupted into polite applause.
Sebastian straightened, still holding her hand. For a moment, his gaze lingered on her, softer than she had ever seen it in public.
Then, without a word, he lifted her hand and pressed a light kiss to her knuckles.
A quiet murmur swept through the watching nobles.
Eliana felt warmth bloom in her chest as he lowered her hand again.
And just like that, the message was clear to everyone in the ballroom.
She was his.