Page 79 of Throne Off Course

Harper grinned. “Yeah. That’s the one.”

Emilia sighed. “I hate you both.”

Sebastian, recovered from his rare moment of speechlessness, smirked. “Oh,you’llhate me more when you see the matching accessories.”

Harper beamed. “See? You’re going to bethemost brilliant, successful, and drop dead gorgeous woman at the gala. Andthat, my dear, is called winning.”

Emilia just groaned.

But she did agree to get the dress.

38

A Tale of Two Dances

The gala was precisely the kind of event Alexander had mastered enduring. Ornate, overindulgent, full of people who measured their words like currency. He had shaken hands, smiled at the right moments, and listened to conversations about “historical significance” from people who wouldn’t know real history if it hit them in the face.

But tonight was different. Tonight, he knew she would be here.

Sebastian had told him days ago, casually mentioning it over drinks. “You know that Emilia decided to attend the gala in the end.” Like it was nothing. Like Alexander’s heart hadn’t immediately started beating faster at just the thought.

He’d spent the past hour stealing glances at the entrance, though he’d never admit it to anyone. Each time the doors opened, his eyes would drift over, only to return to whoever was speaking to him with practiced attentiveness.

“Your Highness.”

Alexander turned just in time for Genevieve to extend a hand, her expression polite but pointed.

“Genevieve,” he greeted, taking it briefly. “Enjoying yourself?”

“As much as one can.” She studied him for a moment. “Though I can’t help but notice you keep looking at the door. Expecting someone?”

He looked at her with infuriating calm. “Just making sureeverything is running smoothly.”

Genevieve had to refrain from rolling her eyes. “Of course. How verydiligentof you.”

And before he could formulate a response, a ripple of movement caught his attention. The doors had opened again, and this time—

His breath caught.

Sebastian entered first, confident and charming as always. But it was the woman on his arm that made Alexander forget, for a moment, how to breathe.

Emilia wore green—deep emerald that complemented her in ways he couldn’t even begin to articulate. The dress wasn’t ostentatious, but it didn’t need to be. The cut was elegant, effortlessly so, the fabric skimming the curves of her frame like it had been made for her. But it wasn’t just the dress. It was the way she carried herself—self-possessed, slightly nervous but hiding it well.

Sebastian leaned down to whisper something in her ear, and she laughed—a genuine, unguarded sound that made something in Alexander’s chest twist uncomfortably. He knew what Sebastian was doing. Drawing attention to himself, keeping the focus off Emilia, making sure no one immediately connected her to Alexander.

It was smart. It was considerate. It was exactly what a good friend would do.

And yet, watching Sebastian’s hand at the small of her back, seeing the easy familiarity between them—it took more restraint than Alexander wanted to admit not to cross the room immediately.

“They make such a handsome couple, don’t they?” commented an elderly duchess beside him, following his gaze.

Alexander maintained his neutral expression with effort. “I believe they’re just friends.”

The duchess raised a skeptical eyebrow. “With the way he’s looking at her? I doubt that very much.” She patted Alexander’s arm. “Sebastian always did have excellent taste.”

Alexander didn’t respond. He didn’t need to explain that Sebastian was doing him a favor, creating a buffer between Emilia and the gossip that would inevitably follow if they were seen together too soon. He didn’t need to say that every second watching them together was making it harder to stay where he was.

He watched as Sebastian guided Emilia through the crowd, introducing her to various guests, his hand never leaving her back. He was being the perfect gentleman—charming, attentive, protective.