[Lavinia's POV — Everheart Estate—Garden—Moments Later]
For a heartbeat, no one moved.
The world froze—the soft chirp of birds died mid-song, the wind held its breath, and somewhere in the distance, even the gods probably leaned closer for the drama.
Grand Duke Regis Everheart stood there, sword in one hand, face pale as the moon, eyes wide as saucers.
My brain: Oh no.
My heart: We're dead. We're so, so dead.
Beside me, Osric had gone rigid. Completely still. Like a soldier caught committing treason—or, well, kissing a crown princess in broad daylight. His father's sword clattered to the ground again, the sound echoing through my soul.
"Father," Osric croaked finally, voice strangled. "This… isn't what it looks like."
Regis blinked. "It looks," he said slowly, each word pronounced like a royal decree, "like the Crown Princess of the Empire is devouring my son in my garden."
