The nobody who became the sovereign

Chapter 7

The transport returned Darian to the gardens behind the Vale estate just as dawn began to break. The storm had weakened to a thin, cold drizzle, leaving the grounds covered in a sheen of rain.

He slipped through the gardens without drawing attention. He followed the hedge toward the side entrance, which the household staff rarely locked before sunrise, then climbed the narrow service staircase instead of using the main stairs.

By the time he reached his room, the communication device beneath his collar was safely hidden away. Nothing about his appearance suggested that he had spent the night in a command center high above the clouds.

He removed his damp coat, hung it beside the door, and went to bed.

Xena found him the following morning in the east hallway. He was already dressed, holding a data slate in one hand as he reviewed the information displayed across its screen.

"You're awake early," she observed.

"Old habit," Darian replied.

"We have the tailor at noon." Xena glanced at him briefly, assessing him as carefully as she assessed everything else. "The Council wants formal portraits before the wedding. If we appear unprepared, my uncle will find another reason to delay the approval."

"Then we won't give him one," Darian answered.

The tailor's establishment stood in the heart of Ashfall City's merchant district. The three-story building had pale stone walls, tall windows, and an entrance designed to make every visitor feel the importance of the establishment. The staff seemed to judge customers by their family names before considering anything else.

Darian had never visited the place before, but he already knew what kind of reception he would receive.

The attendant at the entrance struggled to conceal her surprise when she recognized Xena and noticed the man accompanying her.

"Lady Vale. And..." She paused briefly. "Lord Vale. We weren't informed that you would be attending together."

"We're getting married," Xena replied without lifting her eyes from the slate. "It seemed practical to come together."

They were escorted upstairs into a private fitting room. Full-length mirrors covered the walls, while several expensive fabrics had already been arranged across a long table.

Darian stood quietly as another attendant measured his shoulders, arms, and back. She called out each measurement to an assistant, who recorded everything without meeting Darian's eyes.

The silence did not bother him.

He had experienced far worse treatment.

The door suddenly opened.

"Well," Lord Evander Cross remarked as he entered, "this is an unexpected meeting."

Darian did not turn immediately. He allowed the attendant to finish marking the final measurement before looking toward the doorway.

Evander stood there wearing a partially fitted formal coat. Pins still held one side of the fabric together, suggesting that he had been undergoing his own fitting nearby.

Behind him stood Seraphina, dressed in a pale gown that was still being adjusted around her waist. Her hair had been pulled back, and she looked exactly like the bride the Cross and Veyne families wanted the city to see.

"Apparently, we're here for the same reason," Evander continued, glancing around the room. "Although I imagine our appointment was arranged considerably earlier."

"I'm sure it was," Darian replied evenly.

Seraphina's eyes moved across the room. She looked at Xena, who was seated near the window examining a fabric sample, then at Darian standing quietly while the tailor worked around him.

A strange expression crossed her face.

"You're really going through with this," she said quietly. "The fittings. The portraits. Everything."

"It's a wedding," Darian replied. "This is part of it."

"How convenient that you've adapted so quickly," Evander remarked.

He moved farther into the room and examined the fabrics arranged on the table.

"Tell me, Vale, did you choose these yourself, or did someone have to explain which fabric costs more than your old apartment?"

"Lady Vale chose the fabric," Darian answered. "I didn't ask what it cost."

Evander gave a quiet laugh.

"No, I imagine you've become quite comfortable not worrying about prices lately."

Xena finally raised her eyes from the fabric.

"Lord Cross, I didn't realize the Cross family needed an audience while selecting wedding clothes."

"We don't," Evander replied. "We simply didn't expect to encounter you here."

"Life has a way of producing unexpected encounters," Xena said calmly before returning her attention to the fabric.

Seraphina continued watching Darian.

"You seem different," she murmured.

"I feel the same," Darian answered.

"I don't believe that," she admitted.

"You don't have to," Darian responded.

Evander noticed the change in the atmosphere. His smile became slightly thinner as he stepped closer, positioning himself between Darian and Seraphina without making the movement seem deliberate.

"There's something else," he said. "Did you receive the invitation to my family's gathering?"

"I did," Darian confirmed.

"And?"

"I'll attend."

A brief flicker of surprise crossed Evander's face. He had clearly expected hesitation.

"Good," he said. "You'll find it educational. My father's gatherings have a way of reminding people where they belong in this city."

His eyes moved over the expensive fitting room, then toward Xena before settling on Darian again.

"I'd hate for you to forget that simply because you're wearing expensive clothes now."

"I won't forget," Darian replied calmly. "I never do."

The two men stared at each other in silence.

Neither needed to explain what the invitation meant.

Behind Evander, Seraphina remained motionless, watching them with an expression Darian could no longer understand.

The attendant eventually cleared her throat.

"My lord, if you'll permit me to finish adjusting the sleeve..."

"Of course," Darian answered.

He extended his arm toward her, though his eyes remained on Evander for another moment.

Evander's thin smile returned.

"Three nights, Vale. Don't disappoint me."