Chapter 196: v2- - 15: the opening ball VIII

Adrian did not move immediately.

There was no need.

He had already reached his conclusion.

Marian wanted the Emperor.

Very well.

Then he would give her the Emperor.

It was, in its own way, a simple problem.

She had come to the Season.

She had worn his earrings.

She had looked at him.

She had waited for him to respond.

He had chosen not to.

And when he had given her nothing, she had turned her attention toward another man.

That told Adrian enough.

He would not waste time wondering whether Marian secretly wanted him beneath the crown.

If she wanted the Emperor, then the Emperor was what she would receive.

His attention.

His company.

His favor.

His presence.

He would give her enough to know that he had noticed her.

Enough to make her wonder what he intended.

Enough to keep her looking toward him.

But not enough to give her certainty.

That was the important distinction.

Adrian had no intention of placing his feelings in Marian’s hands again.

He had done that once.

He had loved her openly.

He had trusted that eighteen years of knowing one another meant something.

He had believed that when the time came, Marian would choose him because she knew him.

And Marian had chosen Cassian.

Adrian had learned from that.

He would never again give someone the ability to hurt him so easily.

Especially not Marian.

His feelings for her had not diminished.

If anything, that was precisely what made his restraint necessary.

He wanted her.

He wanted her more than he wanted to admit, even to himself.

He had wanted her enough to remove the man she had chosen over him.

He had waited eighteen months for the right moment to bring her back within his reach.

He had watched her walk into the ballroom tonight and, for one brief moment, allowed himself to forget everything except how beautiful she was.

None of that had changed.

But wanting Marian did not mean Marian needed to know how much he wanted her.

That knowledge would give her something Adrian had no intention of surrendering.

Power.

Not Imperial power.

Something far more dangerous.

The power to refuse him.

Adrian’s gaze moved toward Marian again.

She was still with Julian.

The sight irritated him.

But it also clarified his thinking.

He did not need to compete with Julian.

Competition implied uncertainty.

There was none.

If Adrian decided that Marian was to be his, then Julian would eventually cease to matter.

The only question was how Adrian chose to proceed.

And he knew better than to make himself too available too quickly.

Marian had already made the first gesture.

She had handed him the opportunity.

She had shown him that she wanted his attention.

The next move belonged to him.

He would give her something.

But never everything.

He would let her feel the difference between being ignored by the Emperor and being noticed by him.

He would let her wonder whether his attention meant more than it appeared to.

He would allow her to hope.

But he would not reassure her.

Because reassurance was a kind of surrender.

And Adrian had no intention of surrendering.

His gaze moved across the ballroom.

The Season was proceeding exactly as expected.

Young ladies danced.

Gentlemen approached them.

Families watched.

Rumors formed and spread almost as quickly as the music changed.

Adrian knew how this world worked.

He knew what one dance could mean.

He knew what two dances could mean.

And he knew precisely which dance mattered most.

The dance immediately before the intermission.

That was the one that would be noticed.

A gentleman who claimed a lady for that dance was not merely asking for another turn across the floor.

He was claiming her company when the music stopped.

He was the man expected to escort her during the intermission.

To remain beside her.

To be seen with her.

It was a public indication of interest without the inconvenience of an actual declaration.

And if the Emperor chose Lady Marian Valmont for that dance, there would be no mistaking the message.

Adrian’s mouth curved almost imperceptibly.

That would do.

He would not give Marian his heart.

Not where she could see it.

Not where she could use it.

Not when he still did not know whether she wanted Adrian or simply what Adrian could give her as Emperor.

Instead, he would give her precisely what she had apparently come to the capital seeking.

The Emperor.

Let her have him.

Let the court watch.

Let Marian stand beside him and understand exactly what kind of attention she had attracted.

And while she did, Adrian would observe her.

He would see whether she was pleased by the man himself—

or merely by what the man could offer her.

That distinction mattered.

More than Marian could possibly know.

Because Adrian did not need her to make a decision tonight.

He did not need her to declare herself.

He certainly did not need her to promise him anything.

He only needed to keep her within his reach.

Once she was there, he could take his time.

He had power.

He had patience.

And, unlike an ordinary suitor, he did not need to win her by asking permission to remain in her life.

He could make himself part of it.

The thought was almost reassuring.

Almost.

Because beneath all the calculation was the one truth Adrian refused to examine too closely.

He simply wanted her.

He wanted Marian beside him.

He wanted her attention.

He wanted her affection.

He wanted her in his home, in his court, in his life.

He wanted her so completely that the thought of another man eventually taking her away was intolerable.

But wanting her did not mean he would kneel before her feelings.

He would not make himself vulnerable simply because he loved her.

If Marian wanted the Emperor, then she would have the Emperor.

And if, somewhere along the way, she came to want Adrian as well—

that would be hers to discover.

Not his to beg for.

The evening continued.

He waited.

Not impatiently.

Not nervously.

Simply with the certainty of a man who knew that, when he finally chose to move, the room would make space for him.

Eventually, the musicians began preparing for the set before the intermission.

Adrian recognized the arrangement immediately.

His gaze found Marian.

She was standing with Clara.

A gentleman was already moving toward her.

Adrian watched him for a moment.

Then he rose.

The change was subtle.

But the ballroom noticed.

Conversations softened.

Heads turned.

Adrian crossed the room.

He did not hurry.

He did not need to.

He stopped before Marian.

Her expression changed the instant she saw him.

Adrian extended his hand.

"Lady Marian."

She looked at him.

"May I have this dance?"

He watched the surprise cross her face.

He gave her no explanation.

No smile.

No reassurance.

He simply waited.

Because she had already shown him that she wanted the Emperor.

Now he would give her exactly what she had asked for.

And let her show him what that was worth.

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AN: i know, you might feel confused,but I hope you kinda understood what Adrian is feeling right now. Hehe