chapter Twelve

The steady murmur of voices and the rhythmic clinking of silverware filled the Great Hall, where long tables stretched across the grand space, illuminated by golden chandeliers. The air was rich with the aroma of roasted meats, fresh bread, and fragrant spices, an inviting warmth against the crisp autumn evening.

Selene walked with a measured gait, suppressing the discomfort that pulsed through her injured leg. The fall during equestrian studies earlier that day had been an unpleasant one, but she had endured worse. She would not allow something so trivial to diminish her composure, not when so many eyes were always watching.

At her side, Lord Cedric Greystone adjusted his grip on her arm, steadying her as they entered the hall. He was careful but firm, his presence a quiet reassurance.

"You shouldn't be walking on that leg," he murmured, his voice edged with concern. "Come, sit down first. I'll bring your food."

Selene hesitated. She wasn't used to this.To someone insisting on looking after her, expecting nothing in return. Yet Cedric had been nothing but steady, a presence unlike any she had known in this life or the last.

Still, she had no reason to refuse him.

"Very well," she relented, allowing him to guide her toward an empty seat at the long table where Eric Vasari, Arabella Hawthorne, and Eric's close friends were already settling in.

"Thank you," she added quietly as she sat, mindful to keep her posture poised despite the dull ache in her leg.

Cedric nodded once before striding toward the serving tables. Even in a crowded room, his presence stood out unshaken, unhurried.

Arabella, ever watchful, leaned in with a sly smile. "He's quite the gentleman, isn't he?"

Eric scoffed, reaching for a glass of wine. "That's just Cedric. He looks after people whether they ask for it or not." His gaze flickered toward Selene. "But he's right. You should rest properly. That was a rough fall."

Selene exhaled, her fingers grazing the smooth surface of the table. "I've endured worse."

Before Arabella could press the subject further, Cedric returned with a tray in hand. He set it before her with practiced ease, his expression unreadable. But then, without a word, he unwrapped a small bundle and carefully placed a cool cloth of crushed ice beside her leg.

Selene blinked momentarily caught off guard by the gesture.

"Here," Cedric said, kneeling slightly to adjust the cloth. "It should help with the swelling. Let me know if it's too cold."

She stared at him. This level of attentivenes, this concern it was foreign to her.

"You're being far too kind," she murmured, a quiet note of suspicion laced in her voice.

Cedric smirked as he took his seat. "Should I not be? You're injured." He met her gaze, unwavering. "Besides, we're friends, aren't we?"

Friends.

The word settled heavily in her chest. Once, she would have scoffed at such a notion. Once, she had believed that friendships were mere illusions temporary alliances built on fleeting interests, But Cedric…

Before she could find an answer, a shift in the air made her tense. She turned and noticed that the Crown Prince had arrived.

A hush rippled subtly through the hall as Keith Everhart strode inside, his regal bearing unmistakable. His uniform was crisp, his black hair catching the flickering light of the chandeliers. At his side, Lady Evangeline Ravenshire moved with quiet grace, her delicate hands gathering the folds of her gown as they approached the food tables.

Selene did not turn to watch them, but she felt the weight of his gaze.

Keith made his selections quickly, his movements sharp and practiced, while Evangeline filled her plate beside him, her presence exuding the effortless elegance she was known for. They made a striking pair as they always had.

And yet…

Keith's focus was not on Evangeline.

As he crossed the hall to take his seat, his gaze flickered just for a moment toward the far table where Selene Vasari and Cedric Greystone sat.

His steps slowed.

From a distance, he watched Cedric lean toward Selene, his expression softer than usual as he spoke to her in hushed tones. The way he moved calm, careful, familiar was different from his usual efficiency.

Keith had known Cedric for years. They worked closely in the Student Council, with Keith as President and Cedric as Admin and Secretary. He had always been measured, reserved, preferring logic over sentiment.

Yet here he was, tending to Selene Vasari with a quiet attentiveness that Keith had never seen before.

It was unsettling.

Selene had continuously been obsessed with him, her affection suffocating, desperate. He had despised her for it.

But the girl before him now did not try to cling on him. She did not beg for his attention. She did not try to manipulate the moment to draw him in.

She sat there, quiet and compose, accepting Cedric's care probably with theatrics and false pretenses.

Keith frowned.

Beside him, Evangeline shifted, sensing his distraction. She followed his gaze, her soft features tightening ever so slightly when she spotted Cedric tending to Selene.

A quiet pang of something unpleasant twisted in her chest.

"Keith?" she murmured.

He blinked, turning to her.

"Are you alright?" Evangeline's voice was gentle, careful.

Keith forced a small smile. "I'm fine."

But as he sat down, his thoughts were no longer on Evangeline.

Nor on his meal.

They remained troubled by the thoughts of the girl who continuously disturbed him clinging to another man.