Chapter 171
Dominic POV
There are six cakes on the table.
Six.
Three tiers each. Decorative piping. Edible gold leaf. One of them has hand-painted sugar roses that probably required a degree in architecture.
My mother looks pleased.
The pastry chef looks terrified.
Ellie looks like she would rather be audited by the Council.
“Vanilla bean with lavender cream,” the chef says, slicing a piece carefully. “A very popular choice for Alpha unions.”
Ellie does not even look at it.
“Whatever is cheapest,” she says.
The entire white and gold room goes still. The servants glance, others whisper.
My mother’s smile tightens. “We are not choosing based on cheapest.”
Ellie shrugs. “It’s cake. People eat it. It disappears.”
My lips press tight.
The chef stares at her like she just insulted his ancestry.
I take a slow breath.
This is not a battlefield. It is frosting.
Another slice is presented. Dark chocolate with raspberry filling.
“Perhaps something more traditional,” my mother suggests gently.
“Would that please you or me?” Ellie questions.
She does not sound flippant. She sounds exhausted. Detached. Like this entire event is happening to someone else, and she is just waiting for it to end.
And that bothers me more than it should.
Yes, this marriage began a strategy. Yes, it was born out of necessity. But watching her treat it like a chore she was assigned in detention does something unpleasant to my pride.
It is cake. Free cake.
You would think that alone would inspire minimal enthusiasm.
My mother keeps stepping in, correcting her answers with graceful diplomacy. She chooses a flavor profile. She discusses the presentation. She handles the details Ellie will not touch.
Then Vivian steps forward. Offering a few ideas.
Which I can tell, pleases my mother. Affirming her and my idea to bring her along. Vivian always liked this…stuff.
Decorating, planning. Ellie and I shared the distaste for the details.
3
Even so, I thought even she could find some joy in…this.
+30 Bonus
When the chef launches into a speech about fondant textures, I excuse myself. I step outside into the courtyard where the fountain runs steadily in the center. The sound is soothing. The air is cooler.
I lean over the edge and splash water onto my face.
It is cake.
Not the ring. But then why does this feel like rejection?
“You look troubled.”
I know that high, soft voice. Though I was hoping it would be the other sister.
Vivian approaches with measured steps, hands clasped loosely in front of her. She looks composed. Sympathetic, her blond hair curled perfectly, her slip low on her chest.
I’m not sure who she was trying to impress, but the servant boys could not stop eyeing her.
“I’m fine,” I say.
She tilts her head slightly. “She doesn’t seem very happy.”
I know what she means.
“She’s overwhelmed,” I reply.
Vivian nods slowly. “Of course. It’s just… everyone keeps saying you two argued after I showed up. I feel awful. Sorry about that.”
“Not your fault,” I say low. “Ellie is stubborn about you. About me.”
“About life,” she says, and that gets a chuckle from me.
“Thanks for helping my mom out in there,” I nod her way. “She…likes this stuff, as you do.”
“My pleasure,” she says warmly, folding her hands in front of her. Then she tilts her head slightly, lashes lowering just a touch. “You know… I did hear something.”
My brow furrows. “Hear what?”
She hesitates, as if weighing whether to continue. “I probably shouldn’t repeat it. The towns can be cruel. I would know.”
“Vivian.”
She exhales softly, stepping closer but not invading my space. “They’re saying Ellie ran off with Lucas. Right after your fight this morning.”
My jaw tightens. “How would you even know about that?”
“The town talks, Dominic,” she says gently, almost regretfully. “Especially about someone in your position. People watch. They speculate. And when they see an Alpha’s fiancée leave a heated argument only to be spotted with another man…” Her voice trails off.
“She’s not unfaithful,” I say sharply, more sharply than I intend.
Vivian lifts both hands slightly. “I know. Of course. I’m not saying she is.” Her voice softens further. “They just looked… close. To others. I’m sure it was innocent. I truly am.”
She steps just a little closer, her tone lowering as if this is a private concern between friends. “But people are noticing things. Her resistance to the wedding. The arguments. The way she runs off. They’re drawing conclusions about you two. Your leadership.”
2:3
+30 Bonus
