The imperial herald stood at the high ivory doors of the ballroom, his silver staff raised to announce the royal toast.
BOOM.
The heavy, twelve-foot ivory doors didn’t swing open with the graceful elegance of a celebration.
They were violently thrown open, slamming against the gold-lined walls with a crash that shattered the champagne glasses on the nearest tables.
The orchestra’s music died instantly.
A suffocating, freezing pressure flooded the entire ballroom, instantly tanking the room’s temperature.
The imperial herald froze in total shock, his face draining of color.
His voice amplification spell cracked sharply as he struggled to speak against the crushing weight of the Grand Duke’s presence.
Standing at the threshold was Vivienne Abernathy, looking like absolute royalty in her dark obsidian silk.
And standing right beside her, his massive hand wrapped tightly around her waist in a dominant display of absolute ownership, was the monstrous Grand Duke Caelum Valerius.
Julian’s wine glass shattered on the marble floor.
Catherine’s perfect smile turned into a mask of pure, unadulterated terror.
The palace guards outside hadn’t even been able to delay them.
Just minutes prior in the courtyard, a high-ranking Imperial Guard had foolishly slammed his light-lance against their carriage window to demand their lineage.
He hadn’t uttered a single threat.
His oppressive, bloodladen presence had left the entire vanguard paralyzed in the wet gravel as he escorted Vivienne inside.
Now, the terrifying Iron Tyrant of the North had breached the imperial sanctuary, with a pale, breathtakingly regal woman anchored securely by his side.
Caelum looked down at the stunned royal court, his crimson eyes flashing with lethal amusement as his deep baritone echoed across the silent room.
“I believe you all know my new fiancée, the future Grand Duchess of the North.”
A collective, horrified gasp rippled through the hundreds of noble guests.
At the center of the royal dais, Crown Prince Julian stepped forward, his white-gloved hands clenching into tight fists.
The gentlemanly mask he had spent a decade perfecting fractured completely, his eyes bloodshot with sudden, boiling humiliation.
“Vivienne?” Julian hissed, his voice echoing sharply across the silent ballroom.
“What is the meaning of this madness? You ran away from our engagement ceremony, and now you dare return to the capital clinging to a brute?”
Clinging to Julian’s sleeve, Catherine’s sapphire eyes weld with pathetic, trembling tears.
“Sister… how could you do this to our family? Father has been worried sick! To run off with the North’s monster just to spite His Highness… it’s unforgivable!”
Supported by Caelum’s iron grip on her waist, she took a slow, deliberate step forward, her obsidian silk dress whispering against the polished marble floor.
Her dark eyes scanned her sister and former fiancé with a deadpan, freezing stillness.
“A brute, Julian?” Vivienne countered, her melodic voice carrying a diamond-hard certainty that cut through the suffocating silence.
“I simply chose a real man over a beggar. You wanted my family’s southern iron mines to fund your garrison, but you will find the vaults completely sealed to the imperial crown.”
She turned her icy glare directly onto Catherine, whose face instantly lost its remaining color.
“And as for you, little sister,” Vivienne whispered, a slow, ruthless smile touching her lips.
“You can stop crying. The Crown Prince is all yours now. Let’s see how long his affection lasts when he realizes you come with nothing but an empty treasury.”
Julian’s jaw tightened so hard the bone structural lines sharped against his skin.
He looked at Caelum, his voice dripping with venomous arrogance.
“Grand Duke Caelum, you are crossing a dangerous line. Taking an imperial family’s woman is an act of treason. My knights will dismantle your northern vanguard before the week ends.”
Caelum let out a dark, low rumble of a chuckle that vibrated through the entire ballroom, the ambient shadow tendrils around his boots beginning to pulse with lethal intent.
He tightened his grip on Vivienne’s waist, pulling her flush against his chest as he looked down at the Crown Prince.
“You are welcome to try, boy,” Caelum murmured, his crimson eyes flashing with a dangerous red light.
“But if a single one of your knights crosses my border, I won’t just send them back in pieces. I will march my army south and personal drag you off that throne.”