Cassian stepped through the palace gates like a man who had already won.
The sun had set, and most of the guests had long since dispersed—some still whispering, some pretending they hadn't just witnessed the political wedding of the century implode before their eyes.
The grand hall that had once echoed with ceremony and music was now deathly silent. All that remained were guards stationed at key points, and waiting for him near the entrance was the commander, next to him were more of those guards, they were prepared to escort the prince the moment he arrived.
Cassian raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He adjusted the cuffs of his black and gold attire—the same clothes he was meant to be wearing while standing beside Annora at the altar—and offered them the faintest smirk.
"His Majesty is waiting," the commander said, his voice tense.
"Of course he is," Cassian replied smoothly, his tone almost amused. "Lead the way."
