I slipped free when I could, drifting toward the bar. My handler let me go, only because we were still within the visible centre of the Hall and cameras panned past us every few seconds.
“Water, please,” I told the bartender.
I turned slightly, resting my elbow on the bar, letting my posture mirror the confident relaxation they trained into us at the Academy.
Then I watched him.
Vince stood across the hall now, near an exit arch lined with Thorne and Kingsley banners. Two dynasty elders spoke to him, hands moving, faces animated. A small group of heiress daughters clustered nearby, clearly waiting for an excuse to drift close.
He gave the elders nothing more than a polite, contained attention. Short answers. A nod. A measured shrug.
They looked satisfied.
When they stepped away, two of the daughters moved in.
One stood just to his left, her gown a deep wine colour, neckline low. She said something, smile practiced, eyes bright.
He listened.
He angled his body enough to acknowledge her presence. A fraction of his attention. A few words. A slight curve at the corner of his mouth that the cameras would frame as interest.
My fingers tightened around the stem of my glass.
All weekend, he hadn’t stopped touching me. Here, I might as well have been another crest in the crowd.
I swallowed. The bubbles in the water clawed at my throat.
“Lady Thorne. You look pale.” My handler’s voice appeared at my side.
“I’m fine,”
He studied me. “You’ve fulfilled your appearance obligations. The cameras have cycled through your circle six times. The interviews are complete.”
In other words, my usefulness to the sovereign optics machine was tapering off.
My gaze flicked to Vince one more time.
He was in motion again, shifting to another circle, Rome now at his shoulder. A Veil drone tracked them, relaying every second to the world.
I turned back to my handler.
“I have a headache. A bad one.”
He frowned. “You didn’t mention it earlier.”
“It came on during the announcements.” I kept my tone neutral. “The lights. The drones. All of it. I’d like to leave.”
He hesitated. Leaving Sovereign early wasn’t done lightly, especially by heirs with as much attention on them as I had tonight.
“I’ll arrange your exit. We’ll cite fatigue from your recent travel schedule.”
“Thank you.”
He moved away to speak to an event coordinator, crest catching the light.
I let myself look one last time.
I waited at the bar, pretending the ache in my chest wasn’t growing sharper by the second. The bartender kept glancing at me with sympathetic eyes I didn’t want. I just needed my driver to text that the north exit was clear.
