Darius flicked Xion's forehead and the smile on his face widened.
This was the first time anyone had seen His Grace smile so much in one day, especially after being touched so openly.
The abacus in guests' minds was turning at full speed, considering the value of this black-haired beauty, but none were as fast as the Archduke himself.
Thinking about the wedding night, Darius somehow managed to rein himself in.
He helped Xion walk toward the center of the platform, his palm lingering on the thin waist. With a heavy sigh, he forced his attention elsewhere.
Even if news of the king's death spread now, it would change nothing.
More than anything, he was interested in watching the expression on Nikolai's face.
Firstly, Nikolai's dear royal uncle had died. Now that was within the prince's expectations, but the timing was wrong.
The hedonistic prince couldn't openly declare the wish to fight for the throne now, nor could he delay Silas's coronation.
