The sweet venom Chapter 42: 41

Read chapter 42 of The sweet venom by aspa201 on NovelPedia.

The Prince fixed Adrian with an icy gaze. "Enough. Cease this display. You are at an imperial event." His voice, calm yet unyielding, rang through the room. At last, he released Adrian’s arm and slowly turned his gaze toward the assembly, which held its breath. "But… Your Highness, it is this woman who provoked us," Adrian protested, pointing at Helia, who stood behind the Prince. The Lady in the blue gown hastened to add, her voice still trembling with indignation, "He is right, Your Highness, she is the one who be…" The Prince turned back to them. "I said Enough." His voice, still composed, had grown firmer. "If you do not control yourself, I shall have you escorted out of this hall." Adrian immediately lowered his eyes, his features tense, forced into silence. The Lady in blue froze, pale as death. Helia met Elysia’s gaze. A gleam of pure rage burned within it. Behind her, Sera, Rosalind, and Celia had finally crossed the last steps that separated them and reached her side. She did not, however, have time to turn and greet them, for at that precise moment, something wholly unexpected occurred. The Prince suddenly turned toward her and extended his hand. Then, in a clear voice that echoed throughout the hall, he declared: "Grant me the first dance." She was stunned; she stared at his gloved palm. Her eyes widened, fixed upon him. His face remained impassive. The effect of his words was immediate: a murmur swept through the assembly. All gazes were now riveted upon them. She slipped her hand into his without fully realizing it. He clasped it firmly and, with quiet assurance, guided her toward the center of the hall, where the dance floor lay. Helia’s thoughts raced at a dizzying pace. Too many things had happened in so little time. She had confronted Elysia, the other ladies… then Adrian. The Prince, whom she scarcely dared look in the eyes, had saved her from yet another humiliation. And now, he had invited her to dance. In front of everyone. She lifted her head slightly toward him, unsettled. What could he possibly be thinking? A far more troubling thought then crossed her mind: what if he was unaware of the rumours? Through this gesture, he might have just given them an entirely new weight. Once on the dance floor, he placed his hand firmly at her waist and drew her closer to him. The gesture, almost abrupt, immediately tore her from her thoughts and, against her will, sent her heart racing. She felt the warmth of his hand pressed against her waist. It was not the first time they had found themselves in such close proximity, yet his hold felt different, more intimate. With the faintest hesitation, she placed her hand upon his shoulder. Their other hands remained joined in the traditional posture of the dance. The orchestra then lifted the opening notes of the piece, and they began to dance beneath the astonished gazes of the entire assembly. Helia kept her face turned toward the Prince without managing to meet his eyes. Her gaze stubbornly remained fixed on his shoulder. She allowed herself to be guided, concentrating on the steps she executed almost mechanically, inwardly thanking Lucille for having forced her to rehearse before the ball. The silence between them grew stifling. Ill at ease, Helia resolved to break it. She finally raised her eyes to him. "How is your injury?" At those words, images far too vivid of his body returned to her mind, causing her again to look slightly away. "I have recovered," he replied simply. Helia nodded. Her gaze slipped this time beyond his shoulder, where she caught sight of the many faces inclined toward them, the whispering, the insistent stares. The tension seized her once more and this time, he perceived it. "Relax. I am aware of the rumours." She lifted her eyes to him abruptly, astonished. "And… that does not trouble you?" "Do I appear to care, in your opinion?" His answer relieved her more than she would have believed possible. "Your Highness… thank you," she murmured after a few