Damned by Him
Chapter 21: WAR.
Thank you so much @ Jennifer _Goliah for the Golden ticket.
Thank you so much @ Tess_Mc Daniel for the Golden Ticket.
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A longer Chapter.
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The moment they crossed the threshold of the mansion, Rosaline barely had time to absorb the grandeur surrounding her before tension rippled through the room.
A man stood at the far end of the entrance hall.
His presence was impossible to ignore.
Tall....nearly as tall as Xandros...his figure was lean and sharp, dressed in black that seemed to swallow the light around him. But it wasn’t his clothes that caught Rosaline’s attention.
It was his hair.
White.
Not pale silver. Not platinum.
White.
The exact same startling shade as hers.
His pale eyes narrowed the instant they landed on Lily.
Not curiosity but pure hostility.
The air shifted so suddenly Rosaline felt it against her skin.
Lily, who had been walking half a step behind her, froze when her eyes landed on him.
The man took one deliberate step forward.
Then another.
Rosaline instinctively moved toward Lily.
But before the stranger could say a word, Xandros’s voice sliced through the silence.
"Kiel."
It was low.
Controlled.
But the warning in it was unmistakable.
Kiel stopped immediately.
His jaw clenched.
"Behave," Xandros said, his tone softer now, but somehow more dangerous. "She definitely has nothing to do with you ."
The words hung in the air like smoke.
Rosaline didn’t understand them.
Clearly, neither did Lily.
For a brief second, Kiel’s pale eyes returned to Lily...studying her, searching her face for something Rosaline couldn’t name.
Then he looked away.
Without another word, he turned and strode out of the mansion, his dark cloak snapping behind him like a storm cloud.
The heavy doors shut.
Silence.
The tension did not leave with Kiel.
Even after the mansion doors shut behind him...heavy and final...the air remained disturbed, as though his presence had left an invisible wound in the room.
Lily stood where she was, her fingers still curled tightly into the folds of her dress.
The image of him lingered.
His white hair.
His cold eyes.
But more than that....
the way he had looked at her was disturbing.
Not with curiosity.
Not even suspicion.
With recognition.
And anger.
Slowly, Rosaline turned towards Lily.
"Lily..." Her voice was quieter now, hesitant, as though speaking too loudly might summon him back. "Do you know him?"
Lily blinked, still staring toward the now-closed doors.
Her face held genuine confusion, but beneath that was something else...something unsettled.
"No, my lady," she answered softly, shaking her head. "I have never seen that man before."
Rosaline studied her carefully.
Lily was not lying.
She would know if she were.
And yet...
Rosaline’s eyes drifted toward the entrance again before returning to her maid.
"He looked at you as though he did."
At that, Lily’s brows pulled together.
"I noticed."
Her voice lowered, almost to herself.
"But I do not understand it."
She paused, then let out a slow breath.
"And his hair..."
That caught Rosaline’s attention immediately.
Lily finally looked at her...at Rosaline’s long white braid resting over her shoulder.
"It was the same color as yours."
Rosaline instinctively touched her hair.
Silk-soft.
Moonlight pale.
A trait she had spent most of her life trying not to notice too much.
A trait others had never allowed her to forget.
Her lips parted slightly.
"You’re right."
A faint smile touched her mouth, though it did little to ease her discomfort.
"That makes him the first person I’ve ever seen with hair like mine..."
She paused.
Her thoughts drifting.
"...apart from HER."
Lily nodded.
"Perhaps that is why he unsettled you."
"Perhaps."
But Rosaline knew it wasn’t only that.
It was the feeling.
That strange, crawling certainty that something had just happened....
something important...
and she did not yet understand it.
"Maybe," she said at last, trying to sound reasonable, "he mistook you for someone else."
Lily’s mouth curved faintly.
"Yes," she murmured. "Probably."
But even as she said it, her hand flew suddenly to her temple.
Rosaline’s smile vanished.
"Lily?"
The maid’s knees nearly buckled.
A sharp inhale escaped her.
Her eyes squeezed shut.
For one frightening second, Rosaline thought she might collapse.
"Lily!"
Rosaline stepped forward, reaching for her...
but just as suddenly as it came, the pain disappeared.
Lily blinked.
Her shoulders lifted and fell once.
Then she straightened.
Rosaline stared.
"What was that?"
"It’s nothing."
"That did not look like nothing."
Lily forced a reassuring smile.
"It’s gone now."
But Rosaline wasn’t convinced.
There had been genuine pain in her face.
Something sharp.
Something alarming.
Still, Lily was already smoothing her apron, forcing normalcy back into her posture.
"My lady," she said gently, "we should prepare for the ball."
The reminder landed like a stone in Rosaline’s chest.
The ball.
Of course.....How could she forget?
Everything else...Kiel, the strange tension, the unanswered questions...would have to wait.
Tonight mattered too much.
She could feel it.
It prickled along the back of her neck.
Her first public appearance as the Duchess of Dagon.
As Xandros’s wife.
As the woman the Dagon Empire would now judge.
Her performance tonight would determine more than reputation.
It would determine survival.
Rosaline drew a slow breath.
Then another.
When she looked up again, something harder had entered her eyes.
"You’re right."
Her voice was firmer now.
"Let’s get ready."
But as she turned toward her chamber, she could not stop herself from glancing down the opposite corridor....
toward the direction Xandros had disappeared.
She wasn’t sure why.
Perhaps because she wanted answers.
Or perhaps because she had begun to notice something far more dangerous than unanswered questions...
how much she had started noticing him.
Her chambers had already been prepared.
Warm steam floated lazily through the room, carrying the scent of lilies and jasmine.
A bath had been drawn in the large marble tub near the window, flower petals scattered across the surface like floating stars.
Rosaline stepped closer.
The heat rising from the water kissed her skin.
For the first time all day, her shoulders loosened.
Lily helped her remove her clothes in practiced silence, careful and gentle.
When Rosaline lowered herself into the bath, the warmth enveloped her immediately.
A soft sigh escaped her lips.
The tension in her back melted first.
Then her neck.
Then the ache in her feet.
She closed her eyes.
For a moment...
she allowed herself peace.
Lily poured fragrant oil into the water, then gently washed Rosaline’s long white hair, her fingers moving carefully through the pale strands.
Rosaline opened her eyes to watch it drift across the water.
White.
Always white.
A blessing, a curse, a mystery.....She wasn’t sure which anymore.
"My lady?"
Rosaline blinked.
"Yes?"
"The gown has arrived."
When she stepped out of the bath and turned toward the bed...
she forgot how to breathe.
The emerald dress gleamed beneath candlelight in her chamber.
Deep green.
Rich and luxurious.
Like a forest at midnight.
Its fitted corset was exquisitely structured, designed to mold itself perfectly to her waist. The neckline left her shoulders entirely bare, exposing the graceful line of her collarbone and neck.
Silver embroidery climbed across the bodice and spilled down the skirt in intricate patterns...delicate vines, tiny leaves, and fine curling lines that shimmered each time the fabric moved.
"It’s beautiful," Rosaline whispered.
Lily smiled.
"It was chosen with care."
Rosaline didn’t ask by whom.
She already knew.
Lily dressed her slowly, tightening the corset until Rosaline had to grip the bedpost.
"Tighter?" Lily asked.
Rosaline exhaled carefully.
"No tighter," she said, laughing softly. "I’d like to survive the evening."
Lily smiled.
"As you wish."
When the dress was finally in place, Lily moved to Rosaline’s hair.
She lifted the pale strands and pinned them upward in an elegant arrangement, leaving soft curls to frame Rosaline’s face.
Then she tucked blush-pink camellias between the pinned strands.
The flowers looked delicate against the brilliance of her white hair.
Rosaline touched one gently.
"Pink?"
"It softens the green," Lily replied. "And suits your complexion."
Rosaline smiled.
"You always know what you’re doing."
"That," Lily said, reaching for the blush powder, "is why you keep me."
Rosaline laughed.
The sound startled both of them.
It had been a while since she had laughed freely.
Lily dusted soft rose onto Rosaline’s cheeks and painted her lips a gentle rosy pink.
When she stepped away, silence filled the room.
"My lady," Lily whispered.
Rosaline turned toward the mirror.
And froze.
The woman staring back at her was breathtaking.
The emerald hugged her perfectly.
The silver gleamed.
Her white hair looked almost ethereal.
Her eyes seemed brighter.
Stronger.
She lifted trembling fingers toward her own reflection.
"That’s me?"
Lily’s eyes softened.
"Yes."
Rosaline turned suddenly, emotion rising too quickly in her chest.
Before she could think better of it, she kissed Lily’s cheek.
"Thank you."
Lily blinked in surprise, then smiled warmly.
"You look every inch a duchess."
Rosaline smiled.
For the first time that evening...
she believed it.
The corridors glowed with warm amber light from rows of wall-mounted candles, their flames flickering softly as servants moved quietly through the halls below. Somewhere in the distance, she could hear the faint sound of carriage wheels being prepared in the courtyard.
It was time.
Rosaline drew in a careful breath as she stepped into the corridor, her fingers brushing lightly over the skirts of her gown.
The emerald fabric whispered around her ankles as she walked.
Behind her, the train flowed like liquid silk.
She had barely taken a few steps before the grand staircase came into view.
And there...
waiting at the foot of it...
stood Xandros.
He had been facing away, speaking quietly to one of the attendants.
But perhaps he sensed her.
Or perhaps some instinct drew his attention upward.
Because suddenly, he turned.
And stopped.
Rosaline saw the exact moment it happened.
The pause.
Small.....almost imperceptible.
But real.
His words to the attendant ceased midway.
His hand, which had been adjusting the cuff of his sleeve, went still.
His dark eyes lifted....and remained fixed on her.
Rosaline’s breath caught.
There was no mistaking it.
For the first time since she had met him, the carefully controlled expression he wore so effortlessly cracked.
Not much.
Only enough for her to see the astonishment beneath it.
His gaze moved slowly over her.
From the blush-pink camellias pinned delicately into her white hair...
to the graceful line of her bare shoulders...
to the fitted emerald bodice that shaped her waist...
and lower still, to the silver-threaded silk cascading behind her in elegant waves.
He looked as though he had forgotten, for one dangerous second, how to breathe.
That realization sent a strange warmth through Rosaline’s chest.
Her pulse quickened.
And suddenly she became painfully aware of every step she took.
The descent down the staircase felt longer than it should have.
The soft rustle of her gown seemed louder.
Her shoes brushed the marble lightly, each step measured, each heartbeat louder than the last.
When she finally reached the bottom, she looked up at him...
and nearly lost her composure herself.
He had changed.
Gone was the normal attire he had worn earlier.
Tonight, Xandros looked every inch the duke.
His coat was black...midnight black...tailored so perfectly it seemed molded to him rather than worn. Silver embroidery traced across the lapels and cuffs, intricate and deliberate, mirroring the silver patterns stitched into Rosaline’s gown.
Matching.
The realization made her stomach flutter.
His dark hair had been swept neatly back, exposing more of his sharp face than usual, though one stubborn strand had escaped and fallen over his forehead.
It softened nothing.
If anything, it made him more devastating.
Rosaline stared longer than she meant to.
When she realized it, she quickly looked away.
But it was too late.
He had noticed.
She suddenly became aware of something embarrassingly simple...
she wanted to know what he thought.
Did he like the dress?
Did he think she looked beautiful?
Did she look worthy of standing beside him?
The questions arrived all at once.
And just as quickly....
disappointment followed.
Because instead of saying anything, Xandros merely extended his hand toward her.
"Come."
That was all.
No compliment.
No acknowledgment.
Just that one infuriating word.
Rosaline swallowed the strange sting of disappointment and placed her hand in his.
His fingers closed around hers immediately...warm and steady...and he guided her toward the carriage.
Outside, the evening air was cool against her bare skin.
A grand black carriage waited in the courtyard.
Xandros helped her inside first.
She settled carefully onto the velvet seat, lifting her skirts.
He entered after her.
Before the door closed, Rosaline glanced back.
Lily stood near the mansion steps, smiling softly.
Rosaline immediately pushed the carriage window open just enough to wave.
Lily returned it.
That simple gesture warmed her unexpectedly.
Then the carriage door shut.
And they were alone.
The silence inside was immediate.
Heavy.
Rosaline shifted.
The corset that had seemed manageable moments ago suddenly felt merciless.
She adjusted herself.
Then again.
She inhaled carefully.
Still uncomfortable.
Beside her, Xandros said nothing.
She wondered if he noticed.
He always seemed to notice everything.
Just as she was preparing to endure it quietly, he suddenly leaned toward her.
Rosaline froze.
Her entire body tensed.
He said nothing.
Simply reached behind her.
His hand brushed the small of her back.
A spark of warmth shot through her.
Then...
snap.
Something loosened. 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎
Instantly.
Rosaline inhaled deeply.
The tight pressure around her ribs disappeared.
Relief flooded her body so quickly she nearly sagged against the seat.
She turned toward him.
"Thank you," she murmured.
Xandros had already leaned back into his corner.
His expression was unreadable.
He gave no response.
That should have ended it.
But now Rosaline couldn’t stop glancing at him.
She told herself it was because she was trying to understand him.
Nothing more.
Yet every few moments, her eyes drifted toward him.
The line of his jaw.
The way his hands rested loosely in his lap.
The single loose strand of hair falling across his forehead.
Again.
And again.
Until suddenly...
he turned.
Caught her.
A slow, almost lazy smile touched his mouth.
"If you intend to look at me all evening," he said, voice smooth as velvet, "you could simply ask."
Rosaline’s face burned instantly.
"I was not looking at you."
His eyebrow lifted.
"No?"
"No."
She turned sharply toward the carriage window, praying the darkness outside would hide her embarrassment.
Behind her, she heard it...
a quiet chuckle.
Rosaline frowned.
What was wrong with this man?
One moment he was cold enough to freeze an entire room.
The next...
he was teasing her.
It made no sense.
And somehow that unsettled her more than his silence.
She opened her mouth, preparing to ask him about Kiel...
about the white-haired man...
but before she could speak, the carriage slowed.
Then stopped.
Xandros stepped out first.
A servant opened Rosaline’s door.
But before she could move, Xandros was there.
His hand extended toward her.
Waiting.
She placed hers into it.
And stepped down.
The sight before her stole every remaining thought.
The imperial palace rose before them like something conjured from a dream.
Its golden towers reached into the night sky, lit by thousands of lanterns.
Massive marble columns lined the entrance.
Crystal windows reflected the moonlight.
Music drifted faintly through the open upper balconies.
Rosaline stared.
"It’s..."
Her voice failed.
"Majestic?" Xandros supplied.
She nodded slowly.
"It makes Everbloom feel small."
That surprised a quiet smile from him.
Then, before she could think about it, she felt his hand close around hers.
Not loosely.
Firmly.
Possessively.
As though reminding everyone...
and perhaps her....
exactly who she belonged beside.
Together they climbed the palace steps.
Rosaline’s heart pounded harder with each one.
When they reached the entrance, the towering doors swung open.
A herald’s voice thundered across the ballroom.
"His Grace, Duke Xandros of the Dagon Empire...and Her Grace, Duchess Rosaline!"
The music softened.
Conversation ceased.
Hundreds of faces turned.
Rosaline’s breath caught.
The attention struck like a physical force.
Her fingers tightened around Xandros’s hand.
For one terrible second, she thought she might faint.
Then...
her eyes found one face in the crowd.
Seraphine.
Watching and boring hole into their hands as they were together
And suddenly...
Rosaline understood.
This was not merely a ball.
It was war.