Chapter 252 Cupcake
ADRIANA
The hall filled quickly.
I watched from the top of the stairs for a moment before I came down, the assembled Alphas and their wives, the noblemen, the various political adjacencies who attended events like this because proximity to power was its own kind of currency. They moved through the space in the careful, composed way of people who were very aware of being observed.
I came down the stairs and headed for my table.
I made it approximately four steps before the first group intercepted me.
They came in waves after that. bowing, complimenting, making conversation that was almost entirely surface and designed to establish that they were on good terms with me. I smiled and responded and noted, with the part of my mind that was always running a parallel track, that the composure in the room was too studied. Too careful. The kind of careful that meant they absolutely knew about Damon.
“Those cupcakes,” I said quietly to Hazel, who appeared at my elbow between conversations. “Can I have one?”
She looked at me with an expression that communicated several things simultaneously.
“Just one,” I said.
“You’re the Queen of the Lycan Kingdom,” she said. “You’re standing in a hall full of
Alphas and political figures who are all watching you to determine whether you’re as formidable as the last three weeks suggest.” She paused. “I’ll bring you one in a moment when there’s a gap in the crowd. Eat it facing away from the room.”
“That’s your solution?”
“That’s my solution.”
A man approached with a woman on his arm, and Hazel leaned in before he reached me. “Alpha Clark. His wife passed away eight days ago. The woman with him is Nelly.”
I looked at Nelly. He was. Very young.
Clark bowed with the enthusiasm of a man who wanted to make a good impression and had prepared for this moment. “My Queen, the evening is extraordinary. The food, the music — exceptional.”
The woman beside him cleared her throat and pressed her elbow into his side with a precision that suggested she’d had to do this before.
“My apologies.” He shifted. “This is Nelly. My — friend.”
Nelly’s jaw tightened by a fraction. “I’m his wife,” she said, addressing me directly with the controlled dignity of someone who was not going to let that pass unchallenged. “Nelly Clark.”
I looked at Clark. “My sincere condolences on the loss of your wife.” I kept my voice entirely warm. “It must be a tremendous comfort to have such close friendship during a time of grief.”
His smile went slightly rigid. “Thank you, My Queen.”
“Nelly.” I turned to her before he could redirect the conversation. “How old are you?”
She blinked. “I — is that relevant, My Queen?”
“Humor me.”
Something shifted in her expression — a flicker of calculation, whether to answer and how. “I’ll be twenty-one soon.”
Which meant she wasn’t yet. Which meant Clark had a problem he didn’t currently know he was going to have to address formally.
“After the party,” I said pleasantly, looking between them. “Both of you, come see me. We’ll have a proper conversation.”
Clark opened his mouth.
“Enjoy the evening,” I said, and turned to the next person before he could respond.
The hours moved. I ate, I spoke, I smiled when it was required and let the smile rest when there was a moment. The food was genuinely good. The chef and the caterers had pulled off something that should not have been possible in one day, and I made a note to acknowledge that properly. The music was right. The room looked exactly as it should.
I was tired down to my bones by nine o’clock.
“I want to make an announcement,” I told Hazel. “And then I want to go to bed.”
She signaled the band and the music faded and the room turned toward me as I made my way to the front. I didn’t need anything to stand on — the room was arranged so the front was visible from everywhere, and I was done with managing how I occupied space in front of people who needed to understand what I was.
“Thank you all for being here tonight. It’s been a few weeks since we’ve gathered like this, and a great deal has happened in that time that I’d rather address directly than leave to interpretation.” I paused, looking around the room. “Damien has been released. He was wrongly accused, wrongly sentenced, and would have been wrongly executed. The evidence didn’t hold, and I wasn’t willing to let an innocent man die because a verdict was convenient. That’s settled.”
The murmuring started. I waited for it to peak and then continued.
“Alpha Damon has been stripped of his title and is currently in custody awaiting execution.” I let that land fully before I went on. “He raped women under his authority over a sustained period. He killed some of them when they tried to report him. He killed children. He was tried in this court with witnesses present, and he confessed in open court, on record, to at least one murder.” I looked around the room steadily.
“There is no version of this where that man continues to hold a title in the Lycan Kingdom. Anyone who believed that these two decisions would be reversed by a room full of people making uncomfortable faces is welcome to come see me tomorrow and explain their reasoning.”
The silence that followed was the specific silence of a room that had things to say and had just calculated that saying them was inadvisable.
“Enjoy the rest of the evening,” I said. “The dessert table is on the left.”
I found Hazel and took the cupcake she’d been holding for two hours and ate it on the way up the stairs without looking back.
I’d expected pushback there wasn’t any. I most certainly hadn’t expected them to organize.