The sweet venom Chapter 43: 42

Read chapter 43 of The sweet venom by aspa201 on NovelPedia.

Long hours passed as though they were but pleasant minutes, and the evening came to an end far sooner than expected. Despite a chaotic beginning, the attention of the guests had quickly shifted to other matters, and the ball concluded without incident. Helia took care, for the remainder of the evening, to turn her gaze toward no one but her three friends, with whom she ultimately enjoyed herself. They parted with a promise to meet again at the next major social event, a picnic scheduled for the following week. Now, she sat in the family carriage beside her brother, Lucian. He appeared lost in thought, silent, his gaze fixed on the passing view beyond the window. Opposite them, their father, the Marquis, wore a stern expression, his hands clasped as he scrutinized each of his children in turn. Though Lucian seemed unaware of it, their father’s severity made Helia uneasy, and she forced herself to look away, focusing instead on the nocturnal landscape rolling by. The rumble of the wheels accompanied several heavy moments, until the Marquis finally broke the silence in a calm voice. "Did you both enjoy your evening?" The remark sounded less like a question than an assertion. Helia and Lucian exchanged a neutral glance. The Marquis continued, sharpening his observation: "Should I expect new betrothals to be announced within the Sterallis family in the near future?" "No!" Two voices rose at once, panicked and perfectly synchronized. Helia turned sharply toward her brother, confused. Lucian, for his part, looked just as startled, his eyes slightly widened. "I…" He cleared his throat, visibly embarrassed. "I was speaking for Helia, of course." He averted his gaze and added, in a tone nearly severe, "A single dance means nothing, Father. There is no reason to project so far ahead." Helia noted her brother’s strange reaction but did not dwell on it. The Marquis studied them for a long moment, examining each in turn, before finally turning his attention back to the carriage window. "Let us hope so." *** At the same time, Cédric Belmont, home for quite a while already stood on his balcony, taking in the night air. Cool wind brushed against his face as he leaned against the balustrade, his fists clenched with barely contained tension. His eyes, fixed on the darkness, seemed to search for meaning in what he felt. He thought back to that moment at the ball, to the way Helia had danced with the Prince. He despised himself for the dull, simmering anger that gripped him. He hated himself even more because that fury was not born of the idea that his greatest rival had danced with the man who had humiliated him, but from the mere sight of their closeness. The way they looked at one another, the way they leaned close as they spoke, that man’s hand resting at her waist… His fingers tightened around the balustrade, and he struck it with his fist, letting out a low growl of frustration. He no longer understood his own feelings. That woman, he was supposed to hate her. He had done so for much of their schooling. He had made it his mission to make her life difficult, to surpass her. Yet she, unflappable, had always remained focused on her goals, ignoring his provocations. She invariably emerged victorious, surrounded by her prestigious family, her perfect fiancé, and her best friend, queen of high society. He had been almost genuinely pleased when everything had finally collapsed around her. He had wished to see her fail, break, abandon everything. But instead of giving in, she had continued to grow, to assert herself. She had shed her reputation, seemed to have gathered new allies, and even appeared to have had her heart healed by another man. And her new appearance… He had never once thought of her as a woman before, not until she began to carry herself differently, her presence sharpened into something impossible to ignore. That sudden realization made him blush with shame, and the humiliation he had suffered due to his lack of restraint was still