The emperor sat in his study, his brow furrowed as he sifted through a towering stack of parchment. The crackle of the fireplace behind him cast a warm glow across the chamber, yet did little to soften the cold tension of duty on his face.
Without ceremony, the door creaked open.
Xander looked up briefly, only to sigh. "Did Silas let you in?"
Lola strolled in, completely at ease. "Of course not. I slipped past while he was fussing over the tea trays. You know he guards that door as though you were the Crown Jewels."
He paused, amused. "Old geezer, is it?"
"Old and cranky," she said with a wink, running her fingers across the spines of the books in his collection. "You've quite the library here. What are you reading?" She tilted her head curiously.
"State matters," he replied curtly, not looking up.
She leaned closer to his desk. "Fascinating," she said dryly. "And here I thought you might be penning love letters."
Xander smirked. "To whom, may I ask? You?"
Lola rolled her eyes. "In your dreams. Actually, I came to ask, are we hosting a party soon?"
His quill paused. "Why the sudden interest in palace affairs?"
She shrugged, her hands folding behind her back. "A little bird whispered something about a visiting Lord. I'm simply making conversation."
"You mean Lord Caspian." He returned to his scroll. "Yes, he arrived this afternoon."
"Caspian…" she murmured, as though testing the name on her tongue. "That sounds... regal."
"It is regal. And it's Lord Caspian to you," Xander corrected with a sidelong glance.
She ignored the jab, peering over his shoulder. "So, is there to be a grand banquet in his honour? With musicians, dancing, fountains of wine?"
"The original plan," he said, "but I've moved it. There's an event tonight, a wrestling match in the Garnet Hall. I'll make the announcement there. Caspian approved."
"A wrestling match?" Lola repeated, clearly unimpressed. "Very refined."
"More refined than uninvited visits to the emperor's study," he shot back, though his eyes danced with amusement.
"You're impossible," she muttered, pivoting toward the door. But just as she reached the threshold, she turned her head slightly. "You know, not everything in this palace has to be about politics and power."
"And not every conversation with you has to end in a dramatic exit," he replied smoothly.
She smirked. "You've missed me, haven't you?"
"You wish."
And then she was gone, leaving behind the faint scent of rosewater and mischief.
Night fell, and the Garnet Hall brimmed with life. Lords lounged with wine in hand, ladies fluttered their fans, and the scent of cigars mixed with perfume as murmurs filled the air. The arena's crimson drapes framed the circular ring at the center, lit by golden lanterns that hung like fireflies above.
Gabriel leaned against the stone balustrade, swirling a glass of elderflower wine. His gaze swept the crowd until Kael approached, his presence as commanding as ever.
"You're early," Gabriel said, raising a brow.
Kael laughed. "You sound surprised."
"I am surprised," Gabriel muttered. "You hate waiting."
Kael's dark eyes scanned the crowd. "The wagers are high tonight. This new fighter, people say he fights like a ghost in a storm."
Gabriel smirked. "You look nervous."
"Hardly. I've felled men twice his size and twice as drunk," Kael said, cracking his knuckles.
"You sound confident."
"I am confidence itself."
As they shared a chuckle, Gabriel's expression suddenly shifted. His eyes locked onto something, or someone across the room.
Kael frowned. "What is it?"
But Gabriel didn't answer. He had already set down his glass and was weaving through the crowd, eyes fixed on the shadow of a figure slipping behind the velvet curtains.
Kael called after him, "Gabriel? Where are you going?"
No response. Just the echo of hurried steps and the whisper of intrigue thickening in the air.