Chapter 42: Draped in Rumors (4)

"Princess Anya," he repeated, testing the name on his tongue. It was not unfamiliar in the same way that most foreign names are when first heard. No, this was different. He had the impression that they knew one another.

'I wonder what kind of relationship we had?'

Gloria, ever perceptive, caught the shift in his tone. "You sound as if you knew her." Everyone around Gabriel knew next to nothing about his personal life. This was an opportunity for her to inquire about details from him. 

Gabriel smiled easily, but there was no real amusement behind it. "Wouldn't that be something?" He attempted to shrug his shoulders, but one of the attendants stopped him by tugging the material pinned to him. "I don't think I had the honors."

Alexandra's gaze lingered on him for a beat too long, searching for his reaction. Gabriel had a hard time trying to understand each of his family members. It became even more difficult with people he used to know. 

His reluctance to join the upper class in the capital stemmed from his inability to recall people and events. Everything he knew was based on fragments of memory or information gleaned from his informants. Only his work was something he was sure of. 

"Strange," she said lightly, though there was something deliberate about the way she spoke. "She's not just any noble, though. She was meant to be the future Empress before the rebellion."

Before the rebellion. Before everything changed.

Gabriel's grip on his sleeves tightened slightly, but he forced himself to relax. His memories from the past—before the contract, before the palace fell into disarray—were fragmented at best, and completely gone at worst. He had accepted that. And yet, something about Anya's name pulled at him. Not a memory, not exactly. Just lingering unease, a sense that something didn't fit.

'What was my relationship with her?'

He didn't know. That alone was enough to make him uncomfortable.

Gabriel exhaled slowly through his nose, letting the tailors make their final adjustments while his thoughts remained tangled with the mention of Anya. The heavy material of his robe was smoothed over his shoulders again, and the fit was checked once more before it was carefully unbuttoned and removed.

"Princess Anya is in the capital," Gloria mused, breaking the momentary silence. "How perfectly timed."

Gabriel gave a dry hum, rolling his shoulders as the weight of the tailored fabric left his frame. Another attendant stepped in, lifting his arms gently to drape a new robe over him, a deep midnight blue trimmed with silver embroidery. He let them fuss over the placement, barely noticing the tug on the fabric as the tailor adjusted the shoulders. 

There was no point in protesting; he was convinced that his lovely sister had purchased all of the designs sent to him to choose from. He was played by Alexandra. 

'I will make her suffer for this torture.' He thought while forcing himself to remain still. 

"A well-timed arrival and an even better rumor," Alexandra said, her fingers tapping idly on her cup. "There's already talk that she's aiming higher than Christian de Lyon."

Gloria smiled knowingly. "Oh, it's more than just talk. It's practically an open secret. Christian may be her official match, but let's not pretend she wouldn't take the Empress seat if the opportunity arose."

Gabriel let out a soft chuckle, adjusting the fit of his sleeve as another seamstress carefully marked the fabric with a swift stroke of tailor's chalk. "Ambition suits her, then?"

Gloria arched a brow. "Doesn't it suit us all?"

"Well, it depends; we are talking about Damian's future partner. Don't tell me that you forgot what he did." Gabriel was wondering how many fits they changed on him. Servers came and went, bringing either new materials or refreshments for Gloria and his sister. His mouth was nearly dry. 

The attendants finally stepped back, surveying their work with quiet approval. One nodded before kneeling to check the hem of his trousers and recording a final note in a small ledger. Gabriel noticed the scent of pressed linen and faint traces of perfume on the garments, a reminder that all of this, the careful selection of attire, the precise tailoring, was not just for aesthetics but for the silent battles waged in the ballroom.

'Can I skip the ball if I get sick? No, according to the announcement, they would ensure that all of the coming-of-age people were drawn into it.'

The grand ball was approaching, and with it, the shifting tides of power, he hated it.

Gloria took one last sip of her tea before setting the cup down with a decisive clink. "Well, I must say, Gabriel, you do clean up nicely."

He gave her a lazy smirk. "I do try."

Alexandra stood, smoothing out the folds of her skirt. "We should go. The final details will be worked out before the ball, but for now, we have had enough time here."

The tailors stepped back, their work done for the day, and an attendant swiftly moved to gather the selected garments for finishing touches. Gabriel gave one last glance at the mirror before stepping down from the fitting platform, rolling his wrists as if shaking off the lingering weight of the discussion.

Anya was in the capital city. The ball was approaching. And once again, he found himself in the middle of something he could not quite understand.

'What was my relationship with her?'

As they stepped outside into the cold afternoon air, the question lingered unanswered.