Chapter 33: Royalty
" I don’t plan on going. But thank you anyway."
Her voice had been soft, almost light, yet it carried an unexpected firmness. In the vast conference room with its high ceilings, her words lingered for a moment in the air. The dim light from the lamps cast a deceptive warmth over the late afternoon, contrasting with the subtle tension that had settled among the occupants of the room.
She wasn’t ready to take the leap. And besides, Blanche knew she had to remain discreet: announcing to the entire community that she was the granddaughter of the king of the drakions… that was anything but discreet. Better late than never—and in this particular case, never sounded just fine.
Over the years, she had learned to blend into the shadows. To observe without being seen, to listen without being heard. Her entire life had been built around that almost instinctive caution, shaped as much by circumstance as by the heavy silences of the adults who had raised her. So stepping into the spotlight of a Gala… exposing herself willingly… felt like asking a nocturnal creature to dance in broad daylight.
" Tell me, is it innocence or a complete lack of education? " Sebastian asked suddenly as she was about to stand.
The remark sliced through the air with the precision of a blade. Sebastian hadn’t even raised his voice. He didn’t need to. His tone, deep and perfectly controlled, carried a natural, almost aristocratic authority. Seated with effortless elegance in his chair, one leg crossed over the other, he studied Blanche the way a collector examines a rare piece whose value he has yet to determine.
Pushing her hair back, Blanche blinked exaggeratedly in his direction.
"Considering it was your best friend who raised me, I hope for his sake it’s the first option," she replied teasingly.
Her smile—both innocent and provocative—briefly lit up her face. She had a particular gift for defusing tense situations with unexpected wit. It was a weapon, she knew—perhaps the only one she truly mastered.
Once again, she managed to surprise him. A fleeting glimmer passed through Sebastian’s dark eyes, like a spark in the night. Then she picked up a strawberry from the tray in front of her and popped it into her mouth in one swift motion, without the slightest hesitation.
The gesture, simple as it was, stood out in this world of decorum and measured movements. The red fruit disappeared between her lips with almost childlike spontaneity.
Winter frowned, taken aback, while the vampire remained impassive.
The drakion king, imposing in his perfectly tailored dark suit, possessed that magnetic presence one simply couldn’t ignore. His broad shoulders seemed to bear the weight of an entire kingdom, and yet, in the way he looked at Blanche, there was something more fragile—an emotion he didn’t even bother to fully conceal.
Beside him, Sebastian embodied the exact opposite: cold, calculating, almost timeless. His finely sculpted features revealed nothing, but his eyes missed nothing.
"I think I have a few words to exchange with that wretched djinn king, " Sebastian concluded with a smile, glancing at the former djinn who seemed to have lost a bit of his former grandeur.
As if that were even possible.
"Great! Kick his ass for me, " Blanche laughed.
Her laughter, clear and genuine, echoed through the room, bringing an unexpected lightness. She wasn’t afraid. Or perhaps she simply refused to show that she was.
Kiyan closed his eyes and tried to blend into the background, sinking deeper into his seat.
The king of the djinn, once flamboyant and untouchable, now gave the rare impression of wanting to disappear. His fingers tapped nervously against the armrest, betraying a tension he would normally hide behind an infuriating nonchalance. His dark, curly hair, slightly disheveled, framed a face where his usual confidence had given way to palpable discomfort.
"Why do I suddenly feel like I’m being used ?" Sebastian asked, fixing her with his gaze.
Because that was exactly the case. Kiyan could have warned her that she had been sleeping under a king’s roof. So Blanche let Sebastian catch a glimpse of what he had missed. She looked him straight in the eyes, a mischievous smile curling at the corner of her lips, full of cleverness.
There was something new in that look—something sharper, more assured. She was no longer just the cautious girl she pretended to be. She was learning. Fast.
He raised an eyebrow, assessing her once more.
" Interesting, " he murmured. "Winter, you should review your board of directors as soon as possible. There are going to be a few succession matters to settle. This one could become formidable in business."
"Some people will have to behave themselves," Winter agreed with a nod.
His voice, deep and steady, carried a pride he no longer tried to hide. He looked at her as one looks at a long-ignored certainty—as if he were making up, in a matter of moments, for years of absence.
She read immense pride in his eyes—happy, relieved, almost moved that she had finally entered his life.
That look unsettled her more than all of Sebastian’s provocations. There was a silent expectation in it, a kind of raw, unexpected love she didn’t yet know how to accept.
"In that case, a proper introduction is in order. The Gala is the perfect opportunity."
Kiyan and Blanche sighed in unison: they both understood there was no escaping it.