Chapter 195: v2- - 14: the opening ball VII

(Adrian POV)

The first dance came to an end.

The musicians slowed, and the couples gradually separated.

Adrian released Lady Ophelia’s hand.

"Your Majesty."

He inclined his head.

"Lady Ophelia."

She remained beside him for a moment.

There was an unmistakable expectation in her expression.

A second dance would not have been unusual.

Adrian knew that.

He also knew that several people nearby were already watching to see what he would do next.

Instead, he offered his arm.

"Allow me to return you to your mother."

Ophelia’s expression flickered with surprise.

Then she smiled.

"Of course, Your Majesty."

Adrian escorted her across the ballroom.

His attention, however, had already moved elsewhere.

Marian.

He found her almost immediately.

She was no longer standing where she had been.

Clara was beside her.

Adrian knew Clara well enough.

Not personally, perhaps, but after eighteen years of knowing Marian, there were few people in her circle whose names he did not know.

Clara Wiltshire had been one of Marian’s closest friends for years.

And the man now standing nearby—

Adrian recognized him too.

Julian Wiltshire.

Clara’s older brother.

Adrian’s gaze remained on them for only a moment before he turned his attention back to Ophelia.

He did not need to stare.

He had already seen enough to understand that something was happening.

When he had been dancing with Ophelia, he had watched Marian whenever the movement of the dance allowed it.

He had seen her looking.

He had seen her speaking with Clara.

He had seen Clara looking toward Julian.

And now Julian was approaching them.

Adrian’s expression did not change.

He returned Ophelia to her parents.

The Marquess and Marchioness of Rosemont immediately greeted them.

"Your Majesty."

Adrian inclined his head.

"Your daughter was an excellent partner."

The Marchioness smiled.

"We are honored."

Adrian offered the appropriate courtesies.

Then he left.

He did not ask another woman to dance.

He had been expected to.

Everyone knew it.

The Emperor had opened the Season with Lady Ophelia Rosemont.

Naturally, people would expect another lady to be chosen for the next dance.

Instead, Adrian moved toward one of the quieter areas overlooking the ballroom.

He sat.

From there, he could see almost everything.

And more importantly—

he could see Marian.

The next dance began.

Julian Wiltshire approached Marian.

Adrian watched him bow.

Then he watched Marian place her hand in Julian’s.

Something unpleasant settled in his chest.

He remained perfectly still.

Julian led her onto the dance floor.

Adrian’s eyes followed them.

So that was what Clara had been doing.

He watched the pair move through the first steps.

Marian was speaking to Julian.

Her expression had changed.

She looked less guarded than she had moments earlier.

More relaxed.

Adrian’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.

He had wanted to know what Marian would do.

He had wanted to see how she would react when he deliberately chose another woman.

He had expected her to feel something.

He had not expected her to find another man so quickly.

Julian.

Of all men.

Adrian knew exactly what kind of choice he represented.

A respectable title.

A good family.

A comfortable future.

No Imperial duties.

No suffocating court life.

Everything Marian might find appealing if she had decided she no longer wanted the future she had once been promised.

His irritation deepened.

He watched Marian again.

She wasn’t looking toward him.

She was watching Julian.

Listening to him.

And then—

she laughed.

Adrian’s fingers tightened against the arm of his chair.

He said nothing.

There was no reason to.

Julian had done nothing improper.

Marian had done nothing wrong.

That was precisely what made it worse.

Adrian had deliberately chosen Ophelia.

He had wanted to see what Marian would do.

And she had answered.

She had looked elsewhere.

For a moment, Adrian simply watched her.

Then an uncomfortable thought settled over him.

Perhaps he had misunderstood what she had given him.

The earrings.

Her gaze.

The way she had stood there waiting for him to notice.

He had understood the message immediately.

She had wanted him to see her.

She had wanted him to know that she had deliberately chosen something that belonged to him.

He had been certain of it.

But what had she actually wanted from him?

Adrian’s gaze remained on her.

Perhaps she had simply wanted the Emperor to notice her.

Perhaps she had wanted to know whether the Emperor still found her beautiful.

Whether the Emperor still remembered her.

Whether the Emperor might still choose her.

And when the Emperor had given her nothing—

she had simply turned toward another possibility.

The thought struck deeper than Adrian expected.

He had known, of course, that he was Emperor.

He knew what his position meant.

He knew the power attached to the crown.

He knew what families saw when they looked at him.

An alliance.

A future Empress.

Security.

Influence.

An Imperial marriage.

He had used that reality himself.

He had deliberately created circumstances in which Marian would eventually have to think about her future.

He had made certain that returning to the capital would bring her into the Season.

He had made certain that the choices before her would lead, inevitably, toward him.

He had wanted her to look.

And she had.

But Adrian had never truly considered what it would mean if she was looking at the Emperor rather than at him.

That was the part he had taken too lightly.

Because he didn’t want Marian to choose the crown.

He didn’t want her to choose the safest future.

He didn’t want her to choose him because he was the most powerful man in the room.

He wanted her to choose Adrian.

The man she had once known.

The man she had once loved.

The man she had once refused.

That was why Cassian had been removed.

That was why Adrian had waited eighteen months.

That was why he had gone to such lengths to bring Marian back into circumstances where she would have to look at him again.

He had not done all of that simply to become the obvious choice.

He had done it because he wanted her to want him.

And now—

she had looked at him.

She had worn his earrings.

She had blushed when he noticed.

For one brief moment, Adrian had allowed himself to believe that perhaps he had been right.

Perhaps she had come back because some part of her still wanted him.

But then he had withheld his response.

And she had turned away.

Not dramatically.

Not bitterly.

She had simply continued with the evening.

She was dancing with Julian now.

She was listening to him.

She was smiling.

Adrian felt something twist painfully beneath his ribs.

If Marian had truly wanted him—if she had truly come back because she still wanted him—wouldn’t this have hurt her?

Wouldn’t she have been wounded by seeing him choose another woman?

Wouldn’t she have remained affected by it?

Instead, she had found another man.

Perhaps he had expected too much.

Perhaps eighteen months had changed more than he had understood.

Or perhaps the answer was simpler.

Marian had given the Emperor a chance.

Not Adrian.

The Emperor.

And when the Emperor had not responded, she had simply begun looking elsewhere.

Adrian’s expression remained perfectly composed.

No one watching him would have seen anything unusual.

But the realization hurt.

More than he wanted it to.

He had thought he was the one testing her.

Instead, without realizing it, he had placed himself in a position where her response could wound him.

His gaze remained on Marian.

He remembered the moment their eyes had met.

The way she had stood perfectly still.

The way her gaze had faltered when he noticed the earrings.

The flush that had followed.

He had loved every second of it.

He still did.

But now he wondered whether he had mistaken what it meant.

Perhaps she had wanted to know whether the Emperor still wanted her.

And Adrian—

Adrian wanted something far more selfish.

He wanted Marian to want him.

Not his crown.

Not his title.

Not the future he could give her.

Him.

The distinction suddenly seemed enormous.

Adrian leaned back slowly.

Julian said something to Marian.

She looked at him.

Then smiled.

Adrian’s eyes narrowed slightly.

He did not summon another lady.

He did not interrupt them.

He did not move.

He simply watched.

For now, that was all he could do.

But the question had changed.

He was no longer wondering what Marian would do next.

He was wondering whether, beneath everything she saw when she looked at the Emperor, there was still anything left that belonged to Adrian.

And if there wasn’t—

then all the circumstances he had so carefully arranged had accomplished something very different from what he had intended.

They had brought Marian back to him.

But they had not yet brought her heart back with her.

--

Tbc

AN: this is very important, so dont be surprised later. Adrian’s realization here that is.