Page 46 of Throne Off Course

Alexander’s lips quirked upward. “That’s exactly what I was doing.”

Emilia glared. “Not helping.”

Alexander stood, rolling his shoulders slightly from what was clearly an uncomfortable night. “Come on. Let’s find Sebastian.”

Emilia paused, suddenly hopeful. “Does he at least wake up late?”

Alexander checked the clock, his expression almost pitying. “Not late enough.”

Emilia moaned. “He’s going to be insufferable.”

And with that, they stepped into the hallway, in search of their host.

* * *

They found Sebastian in a sun-drenched breakfast nook, lounging at the table like a cat who’d found the perfect patch of sunlight. He looked utterly unbothered, which was deeply unfair considering Emilia felt like she had survived a natural disaster and Alexander appeared to be plotting someone’s downfall before coffee.

“Ah, the wayward souls have risen.” Sebastian didn’t even look up, flipping lazily through his tablet while nursing a cup of coffee that smelled like it could resurrect the dead. “How does it feel to have barely escaped ruin?”

Alexander narrowed his eyes. “That depends. What exactly do people think happened last night?”

Sebastian’s lips curved into a slow, wicked grin. “Oh, nothing too scandalous—yet.”

Emilia froze mid-step. “Define ‘yet.’”

Sebastian tapped his screen, turning the tablet toward them. “See for yourself.”

A video played—a grainy but clear-enough clip from the party, showing Alexander laughing, his jacket off, sleeves rolled up, fencing like he actually enjoyed himself. The headline read: “A Duel, A Scandal, A Royal With a Sword—What Century Are We In Again?”

Emilia let out a slow breath. “That’s… not as bad as I expected.”

Sebastian leaned back in his chair. “The internet is thrilled. Most common comment is ‘who knew he had a personality?’”

Alexander sighed, rubbing his temple. “Wonderful.” His expression suggested he was mentally calculating how many royal appearances it would take to restore his dignified image.

Sebastian grinned. “Congratulations, Your Highness. You’re officially likable for once.”

Alexander’s expression darkened. “But what about—” his eyes flicked briefly to Emilia, “—other moments people might have noticed?”

Sebastian waved a dismissive hand. “Please. You know my rules. No phones at my parties—or at least no photos. The kind of people who attend value their invitations far too much to risk never receiving another one.” His smile turned sharp. “I believe Lady Harrington’s son learned that lesson rather publicly last year.”

Alexander’s shoulders relaxed slightly. “So the only thing that got out was—”

“The duel,” Sebastian confirmed. “Which, frankly, does you more good than harm. The papers get their harmless royal gossip without any actual scandal, and the public gets to think you’re not as stiff as your mother.” He shrugged. “A controlled leak is always better than wild speculation.”

Before Alexander could respond, a sharp knock sounded at the door. They all turned, Emilia’s shoulders tensing again. Then—without waiting for an invitation—Harper strode in like a furious valkyrie, blonde hair whipping behind her and blue eyes flashing. She radiated the kind of energy that suggested she was here to make someone’s life difficult.

“Well, at least you don’t look like you’ve been trafficked.”

Emilia choked on her coffee. “Wait, was that actually on the table?”

“With these two?” Harper gestured at Alexander and Sebastian with her phone. “Always a possibility.”

Alexander, glancing up from his coffee, scowled. “Excuse me?”

Harper held up a hand. “Fine. Sebastian is always a possibility.”

Sebastian glared at her in mock outrage. “Wow. Where’s the trust? I literally texted you her location—with a pin drop and everything.”