24. The Cost Of Standing Beside Him

The silence after Adrian’s declaration did not last.

It never did.

It fractured instead splitting into whispers, sharp glances, polite smiles stretched too thin to be real. Elara felt it immediately, the subtle shift in the room’s temperature. Power had been declared, but power always came with consequences.

She felt them closing in.

As Adrian’s hand remained firmly around hers, Elara became aware of how many eyes followed every step she took. Not admiration. Assessment. Calculation.

Some people smiled at her more warmly now.

Others didn’t bother hiding their displeasure.

“So it’s official,” a woman near the champagne table murmured to her companion, not quite softly enough. “He finally chose.”

Elara pretended not to hear.

Adrian leaned down slightly. “Do you want to leave?”

She shook her head. “No.”

He studied her face. “You don’t have to prove anything.”

“I know,” she replied quietly. “But I won’t retreat either.”

That earned her a long look one filled with something new. Respect.

Across the room, Lydia stood very still.

She didn’t approach them again. She didn’t need to.

Instead, she smiled—and began to move.

The first sign came subtly.

Elara found herself suddenly without a seat when the group shifted for a private presentation. Chairs were rearranged. Names were called. Invitations handed out.

Her name wasn’t one of them.

“I thought Mrs. Vale was included,” someone said lightly.

Lydia’s voice drifted in, smooth and effortless. “Oh, this is for long-standing partners only. I assumed she wouldn’t be interested.”

The words were polite.

The message was not.

Elara lifted her chin. “You assumed wrong.”

Lydia turned, feigning surprise. “Did I?”

Their eyes locked.

For a brief moment, the room seemed to disappear.

“You’re brave,” Lydia said softly. “Walking into spaces you don’t understand.”

Elara didn’t flinch. “And you’re threatened. Otherwise, you wouldn’t notice me at all.”

A flicker of irritation crossed Lydia’s face before she masked it. “Enjoy the evening,” she said, stepping away.

But the game had already begun.

Moments later, Elara noticed conversations pausing when she approached. Smiles faded. Topics changed. She wasn’t ignored she was managed. Carefully excluded without making a scene.

Social warfare.

She felt it like pressure against her ribs.

Adrian noticed too.

His jaw tightened. “They’re doing this deliberately.”

Elara exhaled slowly. “I expected it.”

He frowned. “You shouldn’t have to.”

“No,” she agreed. “But I won’t let it break me.”

She excused herself briefly and stepped onto the terrace, needing air. The city stretched endlessly below cold, glittering, and powerful. For a moment, doubt crept in.

Was she really built for this world?

Footsteps approached behind her.

“You’re handling it better than most,” a woman said.

Elara turned to find an older socialite one with sharp eyes and an unimpressed expression. “They’re testing you.”

“I can tell.”

The woman nodded. “Good. Then don’t retreat. That’s what they want.”

Before Elara could respond, a ripple of tension rolled through the terrace.

Lydia had followed her out.

“I was wondering when you’d step away,” Lydia said lightly. “It gets overwhelming inside.”

Elara folded her arms. “You orchestrated it.”

Lydia didn’t deny it. “I reminded people of… history.”

Elara’s gaze hardened. “You tried to erase me.”

Lydia laughed softly. “Oh, please. You erase yourself every time you remind yourself you don’t belong.”

The words hit harder than Elara expected.

“I saw it in your eyes,” Lydia continued. “You’re still asking for permission to stand beside him.”

Elara stepped closer. “And you’re still asking for permission to touch what isn’t yours.”

The smile slid off Lydia’s face.

“This marriage won’t last,” Lydia said quietly. “You know that.”

Elara met her gaze steadily. “Maybe. But while it does, I won’t shrink.”

Lydia leaned in slightly. “Careful. Standing tall makes you visible.”

“And hiding makes you desperate,” Elara replied.

That landed.

Lydia straightened. “You’re stronger than I thought.”

Elara’s voice was calm. “You underestimated me.”

They stood there, locked in a quiet standoff.

Then Lydia smiled again but this time, it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Enjoy your borrowed crown,” she said. “Just remember crowns attract enemies.”

She turned and walked back inside.

Elara released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

When she returned to the hall, the energy had shifted again.

Adrian was waiting.

He took one look at her face and knew. “What did she do?”

Elara shook her head. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“That’s not an answer.”

She met his gaze. “Then here’s the truth. She tried to isolate me. Embarrass me. Push me out without pushing me.”

His expression darkened dangerously.

“I won’t allow it.”

“She’s daring you to react,” Elara said quietly. “Don’t give her that satisfaction.”

He searched her face. “You’re protecting her now?”

“I’m protecting us,” she corrected.

That stopped him.

“You don’t need to fight my battles,” Adrian said.

“I know,” Elara replied. “But I choose to stand.”

Something shifted in his eyes then something heavy, unmistakable.

“You shouldn’t have to prove yourself in my world,” he said slowly.

“Then make sure it becomes ours,” she answered.

They held each other’s gaze.

Around them, the room watched.

Adrian lifted her hand and pressed a slow, deliberate kiss to her knuckles not dramatic, not intimate, but unmistakably possessive.

The message was clear.

She was not invisible.

She was not temporary.

At least not tonight.

Lydia watched from across the room, her nails biting into her palm.

This had not gone the way she planned.

Elara felt the weight of the night settle into her bones—exhausting, empowering, frightening.

She had stood her ground.

But she knew something now.

Lydia wasn’t finished.

And next time, she wouldn’t just attack Elara’s position.

She would attack her heart.