The castle glittered with candlelight, its stone halls alive with laughter, music, and the soft clink of silverware. Nobles from across the realm had gathered to celebrate the union of Sebastian and Eliana, but as she walked into the hall on his arm, a hush fell over everyone.
Eliana's breath caught. She had expected attention, yes—but not this. The whispers swirled around her like wind through autumn leaves: "She is… breathtaking." "Human, and yet so regal." "So fragile… yet perfect."
Sebastian's dark eyes scanned the room. Every murmur, every lingering gaze, every subtle glance aimed at Eliana reached him. And he said nothing.
Among the nobles, a woman named Lady Marcella watched from the side. She was beautiful, certainly, but her beauty was sharp and calculated, lacking the luminous innocence that Eliana carried effortlessly. She had admired Sebastian for months, but he barely noticed her existence. Now, watching him with his bride, her jealousy flared. She smiled politely, but her eyes betrayed envy.
Then one bold noble, unaware of Sebastian's warning calm, stepped forward with a smirk. He inclined his head slightly, too close to Eliana, too casual in his admiration. "Your bride is… unexpectedly enchanting," he said, letting his hand brush her sleeve in the smallest, deliberate gesture.
Eliana froze. Her cheeks warmed, a mix of pride and embarrassment curling in her chest. She could feel Sebastian's gaze fix on the noble. She had never noticed before how terrifying calm could be.
Sebastian's jaw tightened. He said nothing. Not a word.
The noble continued, unaware of the storm he had walked into. "I did not expect…" he began, but his words faltered under the weight of Sebastian's presence.
Then, slowly, Sebastian stepped forward. One deliberate stride that silenced even the music. He placed a hand firmly on Eliana's waist, drawing her slightly closer to him. The movement was subtle but enough to stake his claim.
"Careful," he said, his voice low, controlled, yet laced with warning.
The noble stiffened, suddenly aware that this was not the same man who had greeted him politely hours ago.
Sebastian's eyes darkened, and his next words cut the air: "Admire her from a distance. She is not meant to be approached."
The hall froze. Nobles dared not breathe.
Lady Marcella's lips pressed into a thin line. She forced a polite smile as she looked at Eliana, envy simmering beneath the surface. She knew she could never compete—not in light, not in presence, not in the way the prince's eyes only saw his bride.
Eliana's heart raced. She had never felt so protected… or so flustered. Her face warmed, a mix of pride and embarrassment she could not hide. She realized, almost with a shock, that she liked how he claimed her—publicly, quietly, unyieldingly.
The bold noble, stumbling for words, attempted a bow but quickly retreated, knowing he had crossed an invisible line. By the end of the evening, he was assigned distant duties—no one mentioned why.
Eliana felt a strange flutter in her chest. She looked up at Sebastian, who returned her gaze with a calmness so complete it was terrifying.
"You…" she whispered when they were alone for a moment, voice barely audible. "Were you angry?"
Sebastian's lips curved slightly, not a smile, but a shadow of one. "I do not share what is mine," he said softly, possessively.
Eliana shivered, a confusing warmth spreading through her. She had expected fear. She had expected embarrassment. Instead, she felt safe. Wanted. Claiming him felt inevitable, like the world had tilted, and she had fallen into the place she was meant to be.
And Sebastian? He didn't even notice Lady Marcella. His attention was entirely on Eliana. That made the other noble's attempt at boldness and Lady Marcella's envy meaningless—and that unspoken control made Eliana's pulse quicken again.