"If a man refuses every invitation to your bed, my dear, it's not always about you, it might just be that he's saving himself for the next century."
The moment Luna Seraphine Ashvale swept out of the council hall, her cloak flared behind her like the wings of an offended swan, and her loyal guards fell into formation. Five of them, each as different in temperament as they were in weapon choice, shadowed her to her private chambers.
She did not speak until the heavy oak doors shut behind them with a satisfying thud. Only then did she turn, hands on her hips, her eyes sharp enough to cut glass, roving over her most trusted people.
"All right," she said. "Let us hear it. Whatever poisonous rumor is dripping through the corridors this time, I can feel it trying to crawl under my skin."
Nyra, the tallest and most blunt of the group, did not hesitate. "They say your betrothed has never been with a woman."
The words landed in the room like a dagger embedded into the table, and Seraphine arched a brow. "And this is relevant because…?"
Nyra crossed her arms, leaning casually against the wall. "Because if you don't get him to marry you soon, half the court will start making jokes about you chasing a man who doesn't even like your… gender."
"That's absurd," Thalia said, though she smirked as if the absurdity entertained her. "I have seen the way he looks at her. It is… measured."
"Measured?" Seraphine repeated.
"Like he's calculating whether you're worth the trouble," Thalia clarified.
Gideon, the group's overgrown puppy disguised as a battle-hardened soldier, let out a deep chuckle. "I say we lock the two of you in a room together and see what happens. Worked for my cousin married the same week."
"Your cousin also eloped with the town baker because she liked his cinnamon buns," Darian muttered from the corner, his voice dry enough to parch a vineyard.
Selene, the group's mystic and perpetual distributor of unhelpful prophecies, chose that moment to speak. "The threads of fate tangle between you, Luna. But his heart is… guarded. Like a fortress and the gates are…" She paused dramatically. "…complicated."
Gideon stared at her. "You could not just say 'he's hard to get?"
Seraphine pinched the bridge of her nose. "So, the whispers say Alaric is not interested in women. And my guards' solution is either to trap him in a room, consult fate, or… feed him cinnamon buns?"
"Buns work for everyone," Gideon said with a shrug.
Thalia's lips curved into a sly smile. "Of course, there is another possibility. He is attracted to women… just not to you. Yet."
The room fell silent.
Seraphine lifted her chin. "You're treading dangerous ground, Thalia."
Thalia bowed her head in mock submission, but the sparkle in her eyes was pure mischief.
Nyra stepped forward. "Look, Luna, we all know this marriage is about alliance. But alliances are stronger when there is a personal investment. If people believe he is indifferent—"
"They'll believe I'm chasing a shadow," Seraphine finished for her. She paced toward the fireplace, her gown sweeping the rug. The warmth of the flames did little to thaw the knot forming in her stomach. It was not that she cared whether the rumors were true. Alaric's personal life before their engagement was his own. But perception was a dangerous thing. If the court believed he had no interest in her or women at all, it would chip away at the image of power she had so carefully built.
"I need him on my side," she murmured.
"In your bed would help too," Gideon offered.
She shot him a look sharp enough to slice through his armor. "You're dangerously close to being assigned latrine duty."
"Still worth saying," he replied, entirely unrepentant.
Selene drifted toward the window, gazing out at the moonlit gardens. "He's a man who hides behind restraint, and you'll have to tempt him in ways no one else has thought to try."
Nyra snorted. "What, like juggling swords naked?"
"That would work on you," Thalia said.
"It would," Nyra admitted.
Seraphine dragged her fingers along the edge of the mantle, mind whirring. "What exactly do the whispers say?"
"That he is cold, untouchable. That no woman has caught his eye, not in years," Nyra replied.
Darian finally pushed bizarre. "Or maybe he's just smart enough to avoid entanglements until it suits him, which, if I were him, might be never."
She considered this, her lips curling into a slow smile. "Then I suppose I'll have to make it suit him."
Gideon leaned forward eagerly. "So… plan?"
Seraphine turned, her gaze sweeping over her loyal guards. "Plan. First, I will invite him to dinner privately, with no advisors, no political vultures hovering over our plates. Second, I will make sure the conversation is… less about treaties, more about teasing."
Thalia grinned. "Dangerous game, and you might find out if the rumors are true."
"And if they are?" Seraphine asked, lifting a brow.
"Then," Nyra said, "you will at least have clarity. And we can start searching for other ways to make this alliance unbreakable."
"Preferably ones that don't involve locking him in a room," Darian said.
"Speak for yourself," Gideon muttered.
Selene's voice was soft but certain. "He'll be drawn to you; the question is whether he'll admit it to himself before it's too late and marry you once and for all. This cannot wait, we need to cement the marriage alliance once and for all. "
Seraphine let out a short, amused laugh. "Then I'll simply have to make sure he does."
She straightened, the firelight glinting off her hair like molten gold. Rumors or no, she was not a woman easily dismissed. If Alaric truly had never been tempted before, well, she was more than willing to be the first and last exception.
As the guards began their usual playful bickering, Nyra and Thalia debating whether Alaric preferred brunettes or blondes, Gideon trying to bribe Darian into sparring, Selene murmuring to herself about moon phase,s Seraphine felt the weight in her chest shift. Let the court whisper. Let them wonder. In the end, the only opinion that would matter was Alaric's. And she intended to make sure it was favorable.