Bound by the Mark of Lies (BL) Chapter 66 - 61: Time (2)

Damian stepped onto the private balcony, the soft click of the door behind him drowning out the noise from the ballroom below. He exhaled slowly and rolled his shoulders as he moved toward the railing. The spells in the room made him visible to the people below, but only when he chose to be.

Astana stood at his usual position, hands clasped behind his back, his sharp gaze sweeping the hall below with quiet attention. Max, on the other hand, was lounging in one of the velvet chairs, legs crossed, swirling his wine with a smirk on his lips. Edward, always composed but never above having a good ti at Damian’s expense, stood near the liquor cabinet, pouring himself a drink with an almost leisurely air.

"Is there anyone on my schedule this evening?" Damian asked, already knowing the answer but needing sothing to ground himself.

Astana shifted slightly, his response crisp. "No, Your Majesty. Your speech and presence were all that was needed tonight. The next obligation is to officially recognize the coming-of-age invitees the day after tomorrow."

Damian gave a slight nod, but his gaze had already shifted downward.

Gabriel was easy to find. Even among a sea of nobles, he stood out. His dark robes, the precise way he held himself, the slight tension in his fra despite the casual conversation he was engaged in, it was impossible for Damian to look away.

Not that he wanted to.

Felix, Nicolas, and a few others surrounded him. Their conversation was lighthearted, but Damian’s expression darkened as Nicolas reached out and casually brushed Gabriel’s wrist. It was a fleeting touch that had no aning for anyone else. But Damian found it irritating, a reminder that others still believed they could get too close to what belonged to him.

The silence on the balcony lasted only five seconds before Max’s voice broke it.

"You know, if you stare any harder, Gabriel might actually feel it," he said, smirking over the rim of his glass. "Then again, maybe that’s the point?"

Damian refused to acknowledge him, but Max was not deterred.

"You could go down there again," he said, his voice far too amused. "Make a scene. Declare your eternal love. Scare Nicholas to death. I’d personally enjoy that last one the most."

Edward chuckled and took a sip from his drink. "Ah, but His Majesty is a patient man, aren’t you?" He mused, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "He would not let sothing so minor bother him."

Max snorted. "You say that, but I bet if I poked him just the right way, he would send Nicolas to the borderlands by morning."

Edward tilted his head, thinking. "Mmm, maybe not the borderlands. But an unfortunate reassignnt is not impossible."

Damian’s expression remained unreadable, but the air around him beca slightly heavier.

Astana, ever the reserved one, finally sighed. "Do you both insist on provoking His Majesty all evening?" He could not believe he had to scold Edward of all people, but he knew it had to do with the Emperor’s ever-changing partners.

Edward, unapologetic, smiled behind his glass. "It’s a ti-honored tradition."

Max grinned. "And, honestly, too easy."

Damian exhaled slowly and asured. "Are you both finished?"

Max humd. "It depends. Are you going to do anything about Gabriel, or will we spend the rest of the night watching you stare at Nicolas?"

Edward chuckled again, clearly enjoying himself.

"I gave him ti to think," he said simply. His tone was calm and unaffected, as if the conversation had no real aning. However, those who knew him well, such as the three n standing in front of him, knew better.

Max let out an exaggerated sigh, swirling the wine in his glass. "And I thought you would be more fun about it," he muttered. "Fine. You’re giving him ti. I will believe it when you stop staring him down like a hawk about to dive."

Astana, as patient as ever, cleared his throat, his gaze shifting between Max’s amusent and Damian’s controlled intensity. "Your Majesty," he said smoothly, "what do you want to do about Princess Anya? Her actions toward Gabriel, a mber of von Jaunez, will have repercussions. I doubt Lucius or Theodore would ignore this."

He could feel the headaches that would co; other nobles would be furious with her actions, and the fact that she did not hide her feelings for a fallen traitor made matters worse.

Damian exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders as if to relieve tension. He needed to move his body; the previous weeks had been spent working at his office, and the free tomorrow provided him with so rest and ti to train. "She will get her mont at the ball," he said. "For now, let her observe. I believe she is already gathering information."

Astana gave a small nod. "She’s been careful, but Gloria has an eye on her."

Max humd. "I still can’t believe she’s here for Christian. Everyone knows that’s not why she ca."

Edward chuckled. "Oh, it’s hardly a mystery. Christian is the only Lyon she could get her hands on. She’s ambitious. The position of Empress is the true prize, isn’t it?"

Damian’s fingers tapped idly against the railing. "She’ll overstep again soon enough." He did not want to admit that if she slapped soone other than Gabriel, he would never intervene. Actually, he would watch everything with a glass of alcohol, just like the others.

Astana inclined his head. "Should I limit her access to certain circles?"

"Not yet," Damian replied. "Let her believe she’s free to move. The mont she miscalculates will be the mont we decide what to do with her."

Max whistled low. "Cold."

Edward smiled faintly. "Efficient."

Astana simply nodded in understanding, knowing the matter was settled.

Damian turned his gaze back toward the ballroom, his eyes imdiately finding Gabriel again. Ti. He had given Gabriel ti.

But his patience had its limits.

Damian leaned back slightly, his sharp gaze shifting to Max. "What is George doing?"

Max scoffed, dropping his glass with an audible click. "Oh, you’ll love this," he said dryly. My n said he has been spending ti with Elliot. It appears that he has rekindled his love for his son."

Edward lifted a brow. "Elliot?"

"As in our Elliot?" Damian’s voice remained calm, but there was an edge beneath it.

"The one and only," Max confird. "And from the way things look, they’re getting along. So well, in fact, that so nobles have begun betting that I will lose my heir status soon." He rolled his eyes. "I would be offended if it was not so hilarious."

Damian considered this for a mont, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the railing. Then, with a faint smirk, he said, "Let them place their bets."

Max narrowed his eyes. "You’re not worried?"

"I have a plan."

Max studied him for a mont before exhaling. "Of course you do."

Damian turned to Astana. "Schedule a eting for the Blue Ether Project after the last day of the ball. It will be held in the Crystal Hall." His tone left no room for debate.

Astana inclined his head. "I will take care of it. "When should the announcent be made?"

"Send the notification in two days and hall announce it before the eting," Damian instructed. "Not a word before that."

Astana nodded in understanding.

Max tilted his head, a slow grin forming. "Oh? Now I’m curious."

Edward humd in agreent. "The Crystal Hall... how dramatic."

Damian ignored them, his gaze flickering back to the ballroom. He had given Gabriel ti. He had given George space.

But eventually, everything would go as planned.