When the plates were cleared and dessert offered, Malion leaned back, sipping his wine. "You will continue your lessons every day for the next two weeks," he said. "Etiquette, geography, politics, and diplomacy. You'll need all of it."
Aurelia raised a brow. "For what? More dinners where I have to pretend you're charming?"
He smirked. "For the diplomatic banquet. It's in two weeks. You'll be presented formally to the council and foreign envoys as my future queen."
Aurelia froze. "You never told me about that."
"I'm telling you now."
Her fingers tightened on her napkin. "And if I refuse?"
Malion set down his glass and leaned forward, his tone still calm — but colder. "Then I'll assume you'd rather your family attend in your place."
The threat was soft, casual — but it struck like a blade. Aurelia forced herself to breathe. "You really do enjoy reminding me who holds the leash."
He smiled faintly. "It keeps you from biting."
