Chapter 188 - Caught Red-Handed

Chapter 188 - Caught Red-Handed
ADELINE 
Ivan straightened as Princess Kaira and Cassius approached, his smile turning polite. “Your Highness. Prince Cassius.”
I was still staring… no, studying Cassius as though trying to peel away his face with my eyes. Ivan caught my hesitation and gave me a quick nudge in the side.
I startled, then dipped into a graceful curtsey. “Your Highness. Prince Cassius.”
Ivan cleared his throat, smoothing over the silence. “Forgive me, Princess. I didn’t offer you the first dance.”
Kaira’s lips curved gently, her silver gown catching the glow of the chandeliers. “That’s quite all right. It was never a promise, only an expectation whispered by others.”
Her words carried a playful sting that made Ivan blink, but before he could answer, Cassius’s gaze sharpened on me.
“And who is she?” he asked bluntly.
Ivan opened his mouth, “My ha…” ready to say a handmaid, but I spoke quickly, her voice firmer than she felt. “I am Lady Liora, of Veythra.”
I had no idea what that kingdom was, but the name, Liora, fell like a stone in the silence. Cassius’s jaw tightened, and even Kaira’s smile faltered. For a brief moment, the air around us dulled, as though the very sound of Liora soured the music.
“Lady… Liora.” Cassius’s smile was polite but forced, clipped at the edges. “Welcome to Lykos.”
And with that, he inclined his head slightly and excused himself, his dark figure retreating toward the arched doors.
My heart thudded uncomfortably. Why did my lie strike such a chord?
“Had I said something wrong?” I wavered. 
“Don’t fret,” Kaira said warmly, laying a delicate hand on my arm. “Names can be heavy things. Best not to carry them so seriously at a ball.”
Her lightness steadied me, though guilt still coiled in my chest as I watched Cassius’s back disappear.
“Come, Lord Ivan,” Kaira added brightly, slipping her hand into his. “Surely you won’t deny me a dance this time.”
Ivan chuckled, though he gave me a fleeting look that said don’t wander too far. Then, with a graceful bow, he led Kaira onto the dance floor, their figures soon swallowed by the turning crowd.
Left alone, I smoothed my skirts and stepped carefully along the edge of the ballroom. Laughter and music swelled, but my thoughts lingered elsewhere. The person I had come for, the reason I had risked everything, and disobeyed my mother, was still not here.
My eyes swept the hall again, past the jeweled nobles, past the king’s pale figure watching from his seat. No, he wasn’t here. Not yet.
And so I moved quietly, waiting, searching.
I drifted along the edges of the ballroom, my black-and-gold gown shimmering faintly under the golden chandeliers. I tried to blend in with the nobles gossiping in their little clusters, the rustle of silk skirts, the clink of goblets, the swirl of violins, all of it a dazzling blur. But my eyes weren’t on the jewels or gowns. They searched relentlessly, hungry for one figure alone.
And then… there.
At the farthest end of the ballroom, tucked into a shadowed corner near the draped velvet curtains, a hooded figure sat, silent and withdrawn. No one paid him any mind; the crowd’s attention was caught up in their own glitter and laughter. It was almost as though he didn’t exist, as though the revelry had chosen to ignore his presence.
But I saw him.
My heart surged. For a moment, the heaviness in my chest lifted, I felt alive, electric, as though I had been waiting only for this moment.
He lifted his head slightly at the movement of my gown, the hood slipping back just enough for a slant of light to touch his face. My breath caught. The marks, those black streaks I thought my herbs might cure,were still there. Clear enough to see them even in the dark. 
My joy faltered, my heart dropping into my stomach. The remedies hadn’t worked. My hands curled into my skirts, trembling with the weight of failure. He looked unchanged, the shadow in his gaze as sharp as ever. I had wanted to help. I had hoped I could help. But now… now I felt the sharp ache of uselessness.
Still, I couldn’t just stand there. I couldn’t pretend I hadn’t seen him. I began moving toward him, weaving through the dancers and chattering nobles, my steps careful but eager. Each step made my pulse quicken, my vision tunneled only on him.
But the crowd shifted. Someone brushed past my shoulder, another stepped back suddenly, and I faltered. My slipper caught the edge of a fallen cloak someone had carelessly left trailing.
Time seemed to lurch.
I stumbled forward, straight into a low-standing table stacked high with glittering crystal goblets and platters of sugared fruits.
The crash rang across the ballroom like a shattering bell.
Goblets splintered, wine spilled in a ruby flood across the marble floor, sugared almonds and golden pears rolling noisily beneath gowns and boots. A collective gasp swept through the room.
I hit the floor hard, my palms stinging. My mask slid from my face, skidding across the marble, revealing my features to the entire ballroom.
Dozens of eyes turned on me at once, noblemen mid-sentence, ladies mid-laugh, servants mid-step. The music faltered, violins drawing out a discordant note before falling into silence.
My cheeks burned. My heart thundered.
And yet, in the middle of the stunned silence, I felt another gaze on me. Not mocking, not curious, something sharper, heavier. I lifted my eyes from the broken glass to the hooded figure at the end of the room.
He was watching.