Mate 21 - Unexpected Ally

Sage

The grand staircase stretched endlessly before me as I walked down beside Damien, the weight of the night pressing on my shoulders. My gown, elegant yet suffocating, clung to my skin as if it knew the discomfort I felt. Tonight’s dinner at the Duke’s estate wasn’t something I looked forward to, especially because I knew why I was the one being summoned.

Beside me, Damien walked with his usual detached elegance. He didn’t speak, didn’t spare me a glance, as if we weren’t bound by fate itself. The cold truth was something I had long since accepted—we were destined mates, but love had never been part of that fate.

At the bottom of the stairs, Rosana stood waiting.

The golden glow of the chandelier illuminated her sharp features, her dress shimmering under the light. Her expression, however, held something far less dazzling. Curiosity. Expectation.

"Where are you two going?" she asked, her tone deceptively casual, but I caught the underlying edge.

Damien didn’t hesitate. "The Duke’s estate."

I saw the way her brows lifted ever so slightly. Not in surprise, but in offense.

"And you didn’t think to invite me?" she asked, tilting her head.

I knew what she was doing. She wasn’t asking. She was waiting for an explanation—one that Damien wouldn’t give.

I cleared my throat. "The Duke only extended the invitation to us."

Rosana’s gaze flickered to me, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Us? Or just you?"

I stiffened, feeling her words like a blade against my skin. She knew. Of course, she knew. The Duke wanted to meet me, and me alone—his interest stemming from the cruel twist of fate that tied me to Damien.

Damien, for his part, didn’t react. He stood still, impassive, as if this conversation didn’t concern him.

Rosana turned to him instead. "I want to go."

Damien didn’t immediately respond. He rarely did—always taking his time to weigh the situation. But I knew him enough to see it—the faintest clench of his jaw.

"You weren’t invited," I reminded her, calm but firm.

Rosana ignored me. Her gaze remained locked onto Damien, unwavering, as if daring him to deny her outright. "I am a Princess of the Drottghes Empire. Do you really think the Duke would turn me away?"

A long silence stretched between us.

Damien exhaled slowly, finally breaking his stillness. "…Fine."

Just like that.

I pressed my lips together, something bitter curling inside me. Of course, he agreed. Rosana wasn’t just anyone—she was his childhood friend, the woman his mother wanted for him.

Rosana smiled, triumphant. "Good. Let’s not keep the Duke waiting, then."

I lowered my gaze, forcing the sharp sting of disappointment deep down where neither of them would see.

This night was already unbearable. Now, it would be worse.

The carriage ride to the Duke’s estate was suffocating. Not because of the lavish interior or the silence that stretched between us—but because of Rosana’s presence.

She sat across from me, poised and elegant, her gaze flickering toward Damien every so often, as if expecting him to say something. But, as always, Damien remained indifferent, unreadable. His eyes were fixed outside the window, showing no concern for the tension brewing inside the carriage.

It wasn’t difficult to see what this night meant to her. She wasn’t supposed to be here, but because she had insisted—because Damien couldn’t refuse her—she was now seated beside him, an ever-present reminder of my place.

I wasn’t chosen. I was merely fated.

When we arrived at the Duke’s estate, I took a steadying breath before stepping down from the carriage. 

The grand halls of the Duke’s estate stretched before us, gilded in gold and flickering candlelight. The chandeliers overhead cast a warm glow over the polished marble floors, their intricate crystal designs reflecting in every direction. The scent of fresh roses and burning incense clung to the air, a reminder of the wealth and power that resided within these walls.

Despite the elegance, the atmosphere felt suffocating. Between Damien’s indifference and Rosana’s forced presence, I was already exhausted—and the night had barely begun.

As we stepped deeper inside, a voice called my name.

"Lady Sage."

I turned, my gaze landing on a familiar figure.

It’s Lady Evanna.

She stopped before me, her piercing eyes assessing me with quiet amusement.

"It’s been a while," she murmured.

A rare warmth settled in my chest. "It has, Lady Evanna."

We had met at the Empress’s tea party.

Lady Evanna had been there, searching for something.

A handkerchief. But I had found it. When I returned it to her, we talked and she’s a nice person indeed.

That day, I hadn’t known that earning Lady Evanna’s favor meant gaining an unexpected yet powerful ally.

Now, standing in the grand halls of the Duke’s estate, her sharp gaze flickered toward Rosana, who stood beside Damien, waiting impatiently to be acknowledged.

There was a beat of silence.

She curtsied, “I greet the Crown Alpha of the Empire and the Princess.”

Then Lady Evanna turned back to me—as if Rosana did not exist.

I bit back my amusement.

"Come," she said lightly, slipping her arm through mine. "We have much to discuss."

Rosana’s lips parted slightly, caught off guard by the sheer dismissal.

A flicker of irritation crossed her face before she recovered, forcing a polite smile.

"Oh, I was often at the Empress’s tea parties as well," she interjected, her voice dripping with feigned grace. "The court is such a delicate place to navigate, wouldn’t you agree?"

Lady Evanna barely spared her a glance. "Yes, it requires sharp intellect to survive."

Rosana’s smile faltered.

The unspoken words hung between them.

And you clearly lack it.

I felt the tension coil between them, thick and stifling, yet Lady Evanna merely turned back to me as if Rosana had already been forgotten.

By the time we reached the dining hall, Rosana’s patience was wearing thin.

We took our seats at the grand table, where Damien and the Duke were already conversing in quiet, political tones. The air was thick with unspoken negotiations and veiled intentions, each word exchanged with calculated precision.

The soft clinking of silverware against porcelain filled the air, but my mind remained alert.

Then, the Duke’s voice rang out.

"I must say," he mused, lifting his glass, "I am truly glad that my daughter has befriended the future Luna of Angentha."

The room stilled.

Rosana’s fingers tightened around her fork.

"Future Luna?" she repeated, her voice smooth but sharp.

The Duke nodded. "Naturally. Lady Sage is the fated mate of our dear crown prince. That makes her the next Luna, does it not?"

I felt Rosana’s burning gaze, but I refused to meet it.

She let out a soft, charming laugh. "Fated mate or not, a Luna must be someone worthy of the title. Strength, poise, and leadership—it takes more than destiny to rule beside Damien."

The tension thickened.

Lady Evanna set her wine glass down.

"You speak as if Lady Sage is lacking," she said, tone calm but razor-sharp.

Rosana hesitated. "Not at all, I only meant—"

"You meant to undermine her," Lady Evanna interjected smoothly. “Which is quite bold, considering that the Moon Goddess itself chose her to rule beside our Empire. I don't want to say this, Princess, but are you saying that the oracle is false?”

Rosana’s posture stiffened.

The Duke hummed, taking a slow sip of his wine. "My daughter is right. Lady Sage is fated to lead beside Prince Damien, and fate does not make mistakes."

Rosana’s grip on her napkin tightened.

Before she could retort, Damien set his utensils down.

"Rosana."

She turned, her expression carefully neutral.

"A word," he said, voice calm. Too calm.

She hesitated. "Damien, I—"

"Now."

His voice left no room for argument.

Rosana’s fingers curled into her lap before she stood. She cast me one last unreadable glance before following Damien out of the hall.

The doors closed behind them.

I didn't know that the Duke's family is this powerful, well they're one of the most influential families in the Angentha.

Lady Evanna sighed, swirling her wine lazily. "She’s persistent, isn’t she?"

I exhaled, tension leaving my shoulders. "You have no idea."

Lady Evanna smirked. "Oh, I think I do."

And as the dinner continued, I realized something.

For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t alone in this fight.

The cool night air carried the faint scent of roses and damp earth as we stepped out of the Duke’s estate. The moon hung high above the estate grounds, casting a soft silver glow over the intricate stone pathways and towering iron gates. The evening had been filled with tension, both spoken and unspoken, and yet I had managed to hold my ground.

Still, the battle was far from over.

As soon as we reached the waiting carriages, Rosana wasted no time.

She slipped her arm through Damien’s, pressing close to his side, her soft curls brushing against his shoulder. "It’s such a long ride back, don’t you think?" she murmured, tilting her head up to him, her voice carrying a sweet, practiced gentleness.

It was a subtle move—one designed to stake her claim.

I knew the moment wasn’t about Damien. It was about me.

Her gaze flickered toward me, just for a second, before she returned her attention to Damien, waiting for him to acknowledge her.

He didn’t return the gesture, but he didn’t reject it either.

And then, his gaze shifted.

"You seemed close to the Duke’s daughter," he said, his voice even, unreadable. "Where did you meet her?"

The question caught me off guard.

I kept my face neutral, refusing to let Rosana see even a flicker of surprise. "At the Empress’s tea party," I answered simply.

He nodded. Nothing more. No further curiosity, no interest.

Typical.

The silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating, filled only by the quiet sounds of the estate’s staff moving about, preparing for our departure.

I could feel Rosana watching me.

Waiting.

She wanted something—a reaction, perhaps, or a misstep.

Enough.

I turned away, my voice cool and composed. "I’ll take another carriage back."

Damien’s brows furrowed slightly. "There’s no need."

"There is," I replied smoothly. "I wouldn’t want to interrupt the two of you."

For the first time all night, Rosana’s smirk was genuine.

Without another word, I stepped toward the second carriage, feeling the weight of their presence behind me. 

Before I climb in the carriage, Damien grabs my waist. “Hold on a moment.” 

“What is it? Don't tell me you want me to watch the two of you?” I furiously asked. 

“No. I will ride with you,” he replied, which shocked me. 

Damien signals the coachmen, “Take Rosana first.”

“What is the meaning of this, Damien?” Rosana interjected from behind. 

“I changed my mind,” Damien said curtly, his tone laced with finality. “You’ll depart ahead of us. I have something to discuss with her.”

Rosana’s face tightened, the elegant composure she’d worn all evening faltering for just a heartbeat. “Discuss?” she repeated, her voice sharp enough to cut through the cold night air. “At this hour? You can’t possibly—”

“Enough.” His gaze flicked toward her, cool and unyielding. “Go.”

For a moment, it looked as if she might protest again—but then, seeing the steel in his eyes, she forced a sweet smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Of course, my prince,” she said tightly, curtsying with brittle grace.

As she climbed into her carriage, her eyes darted toward me—bright with silent fury, resentment gleaming like the edge of a blade.

The carriage rolled away, wheels crunching over gravel.

When the sound finally faded, Damien’s hand was still at my waist. His touch was firm, but not possessive—controlled, restrained, yet there was something in the way his fingers lingered that sent a shiver through me.

“Let go,” I said quietly.

He didn’t.

“Why?” he asked.

I turned to face him fully. His eyes caught the lantern light, unreadable as ever. “Why what?”

“Why are you so quiet today?” His voice dropped low—quiet, but edged with frustration.

“Then, what should I say? The only one correct in your eyes is Rosana. Besides, I don't want to cause a scene. I'll follow my duties as I will not be a burden to you.” I replied, my tone sharp enough to hide the tremor beneath.

The night around us seemed to hold its breath—the faint rustle of the trees, the flicker of torchlight on the cobblestones, everything slowing to a fragile stillness.

My heart thundered. “Let go, Damien.”

“As you wish,” he said quietly.

“Do you have any symptoms of pregnancy?” He asked. Oh, so that's the reason why he let Rosana go first to not hear this conversation. 

I replied, “No. If there's, I'll tell you.”

He said, “Good. This matter should be hidden to avoid rumors as our first marking is still not complete.” 

Well, looks like ever since his father became ill he is willing to follow his duty. I know that he doesn't love me but, as long as he doesn't reject me and keeps this alliance my feelings don't matter anymore. 

The space between us felt colder immediately.

Without another word, he turned and climbed into the carriage. After a moment’s hesitation, I followed. The air inside was thick with everything we’d left unsaid.

As the carriage began to move, neither of us spoke—but the silence between us wasn’t empty. It was electric. Unforgiving.

Every turn of the wheels carried us deeper into a tension that neither of us dared to name.