Chapter Four - Eyes Down

Chapter Four

Cyrus and Pietra said goodbye at the door for four full minutes.

Gianna watched from inside the carriage through the small window, arms crossed, expression blank.

Pietra had both of Cyrus's hands in hers. 

She was looking up at him saying something – Gianna couldn't hear it and honestly, she didn't want to – and Cyrus was looking back at her with a softness on his face that Gianna was fairly certain she had never once been on the receiving end of.

This is the man I threatened to starve myself for, she thought. Past me had genuinely terrible taste.

She looked away from the window.

She was going to get out of this marriage. She didn't know how yet – the King's involvement complicated things significantly – but she was going to find a way. She would go back to Highmoon, back to her father and back to a life that was actually hers.

The carriage dipped as Cyrus climbed in.

He sat across from her and said nothing.

Gianna said nothing back.

It was the most peaceful four minutes of the last two days.

The palace was enormous.

Gianna had told herself she wouldn't react – she was an Alpha's daughter, she'd grown up with money, she'd seen grand buildings before, presumably – but when the carriage passed through the main gates and the full scale of it came into view, she felt something in her chest simply stop for a moment.

Towers of pale stone that caught the last of the evening light and held it. Gardens that went on further than she could track. Guards posted at intervals so precise they looked like architectural features. 

The whole thing radiated a particular kind of power. 

So this is where the Lycan King lives, she thought. That explains some things.

The carriage stopped. Guards opened the door.

A man was waiting at the top of the entrance steps.

He had broad shoulders and close-cropped hair. He wore the palace insignia on his chest — Beta rank, senior.

"Alpha Cyrus." He inclined his head. "Luna Gianna. Welcome to the palace. I'm Beta Matthew. I'll be escorting you to the banquet hall."

Cyrus's entire body language shifted the moment he stepped out of the carriage.

Gianna watched it happen in real time. The set of his shoulders changed. The angle of his chin dropped slightly. The sharp, dismissive energy he carried everywhere seemed to have disappeared.

Cyrus, who didn't bow to anyone, was practically bowing to the Beta.

Interesting, Gianna thought.

She fell into step beside him as Matthew led them inside.

Cyrus leaned toward her without turning his head. His voice was barely above a breath. 

"When we get inside. When you meet the King." He paused to make sure she was listening. "Do not make mistakes. Do not speak unless spoken to. Do not touch anything. Do not embarrass me."

"Or?" Gianna asked, just as quietly.

Cyrus's jaw tightened. "Or you'll find out what trouble actually looks like."

Gianna filed that away and kept walking.

The banquet hall was full of wolves who all knew exactly where they sat in the hierarchy and were performing that knowledge with every posture, every greeting and every smile.

Gianna and Cyrus were shown to their seats. She sat and e looked around.

The ceiling alone was worth looking at.  The table ran the length of the room. Crystal glasses, silver plates, flowers Gianna didn't have names for arranged down the center.

"Stop looking around," Cyrus said under his breath.

"It's a remarkable building."

"You look like you've never been anywhere."

"I don't remember being anywhere," Gianna said pleasantly. "Head injury."

Cyrus said nothing.

"The stonework on that arch is exceptional," Gianna said, looking at the far wall. "Is that original construction or –"

"Gianna."

"The chandeliers must weigh –"

"Gianna."

She looked at him.

His expression was stoic and unpleasant. She smiled and reached for her water glass.

At that moment, a trumpet sounded. 

Every person in the room stood.

Cyrus was on his feet before Gianna had fully processed the movement, and his hand was at her elbow pulling her up with him, a grip that was more instruction than assistance. "Head down," he breathed. "Don't look up. He killed a guard this afternoon, keep your mouth shut and your eyes down and don't –"

"He killed a guard?" Gianna said.

"Eyes down."

Gianna dropped her gaze to the floor.

The room was silent, then she heard footsteps. 

A guard's voice cut through the quiet, reporting something — military, eastern border, numbers Gianna couldn't fully follow — and then stopped mid-sentence.

She heard one word from somewhere ahead of her.

"Useless."

And then the sound of crystal shattering.

Gianna's head stayed down but her eyes cut sideways on instinct and she caught in her peripheral vision, a crystal glass, or what had been one, now in pieces against the base of the far wall. 

A guard on one knee with his head bowed and a cut on his forearm, blood running down to his wrist, completely silent, because apparently that was the correct response to this situation.

Gianna's stomach dropped.

Right, she thought. That's what kind of King.

She was suddenly, acutely aware of every muscle in her own body and how important it was that none of them did anything unexpected.

Which was exactly when IsaGianna woke up.

 It was instant – like a light switching on inside her chest, her wolf coming fully, violently awake and then immediately trying to take over.

Gianna felt it like a shove from the inside.

IsaGianna. She pushed back. Whatever this is – not now. We are standing in front of a king who just threw a glass at a guard and we are not doing this right now –

IsaGianna wasn't listening. She was straining forward, pulling toward something ahead of them, excited in a way that made no sense. 

Gianna fought her, trying to keep her face neutral while her wolf went absolutely haywire beneath her skin.

She lost her footing.

One second she was standing. The next her balance was simply gone  and she was falling forward. 

There was nothing to grab and she was going to go down face-first in the middle of the royal banquet hall in front of every Alpha in the kingdom and that was going to be the last thing she ever did –

Hands caught her.

Both of them were firm – one at her arm and one at her waist, catching her full weight without any apparent effort, like she was nothing.

Gianna grabbed the arms that were holding her and looked up.

The world went quiet.

The man holding her was looking down at her with dark eyes that had gone very still. 

She had never seen anyone who looked like this.

She was aware that she was staring. She was aware that her mouth had opened slightly. She was aware that IsaGianna, who had just thrown her entire body off balance trying to get to this exact spot, had gone completely quiet the moment his eyes met hers. 

The man's eyes changed. For a very brief moment, his eyes held a look that Gianna couldn't decipher then it was gone. 

His hands were still on her arms.

Neither of them had moved.

"Gianna."

Cyrus's voice hit her like cold water.

He grabbed her arm and pulled her upright and away in one motion, stepping partially in front of her, and she could feel how tightly controlled his voice was when he spoke. "I apologize, Your Majesty. My wife – she's been unwell. Please forgive the disrespect, she didn't –"

"Apologize," Cyrus said to her, through gritted teeth. "Now. Apologize and keep your eyes down."

Gianna blinked. Refocused.

The King – Ethan, as Evelyn  had called him earlier – was watching her with an expression she couldn't read. Around them the entire banquet hall was a held breath.

"I'm sorry," Gianna said.

"It's just—" The words came out before she could stop them, "I've never seen anyone who looked like you. I wasn't prepared for that. I panicked."

Somewhere behind her she heard Cyrus make a sound like a man whose soul was leaving his body.

Nolan looked at her for one long, unreadable moment then he let out a short, genuine laugh that clearly surprised him as much as anyone else in the room.

He turned to Cyrus. "Your wife is funny." The amusement was still in his voice, but under it was something that wasn't amusement at all  "You should cherish that."

Then he looked at Gianna.

Gianna felt something electric move through her from her scalp to the soles of her feet. 

Then he walked on, and the room exhaled, and Cyrus's hand on her arm tightened hard enough to bruise.