Bound by the Mark of Lies (BL)
Chapter 118 - 113: The Ticking Bomb (3)
CHAPTER 118: CHAPTER 113: THE TICKING BOMB (3)
The hall had settled into an eerie silence, as if the near disaster had been nothing more than a minor ripple in the grand proceedings of the night. The nobles whispered among themselves, their gazes drawn to Damian in something resembling awe, the fear hidden beneath layers of admiration. Damian had shown complete control, an unwavering strength that left no room for doubt.
Gabriel felt his body becoming sluggish, and he was still absorbing more ether than he should, but he, like Damian, could not tell anyone how bad it was.
He took his place beside the Emperor as planned, stepping forward to present his greetings with practiced grace. Before speaking, he kneeled with one knee to the ground and bowed his head, as is customary at a noble coming of age ceremony. "Your Majesty, I, Gabriel von Jaunez, son of House von Jaunez, present myself before the court and the Empire on this night. With unwavering loyalty and duty, I pledge to defend the honor of my house and serve the Empire in whatever capacity is required of me." His voice remained steady even as he felt the weight of Damian’s gaze on him. Rising smoothly to his feet, he met those golden eyes with a controlled expression, aware of the many eyes watching their exchange.
Damian held his gaze for a moment, the silence stretching between them before he finally spoke. "Gabriel von Jaunez, the Empire acknowledges your dedication and service. May your loyalty remain unwavering, and may your actions reflect the strength of your house." His voice was calm, yet something about it felt distant, practiced, too perfect. "You may take your place."
The formalities continued without interruption. As soon as Gabriel stepped back and took his designated seat, the next noble in line approached the emperor. The ceremony’s weight remained heavy in the air, with echoes of Gabriel’s words lingering in the minds of those who had paid attention.
Gabriel sank into his chair, his back straight and his posture poised. He was grateful for the ability to sit, as standing for much longer would have been far more difficult. The ether still buzzed beneath his skin, a restless, pulsing force that refused to fully settle, but he kept his breathing steady, his expression schooled into the same calm neutrality he always carried.
His naturally pale complexion worked in his favor; unless someone looked too closely, the exhaustion weighing on his body would go unnoticed. He felt Max’s sharp gaze flick toward him again, but he ignored it, returning his attention to the proceedings.
Christian Lyon was now stepping forward, his posture impeccable, and every movement exuding the effortless grace expected of a prince. He kneeled before Damian, his voice steady as he made his formal declaration, as if he had rehearsed it countless times before.
"Your Majesty, I, Christian Lyon, son of House Lyon and brother to the Emperor, present myself to the court and the Empire this evening. I pledge my unwavering loyalty and devotion to our people and the crown’s strength."
His words echoed throughout the hall with practiced precision, perfectly measured and controlled. A model of royal duty.
Damian’s expression did not change as he looked at his younger brother. His golden eyes were sharp and unwavering, and when he spoke, his voice steady.
"Christian Lyon, the Empire acknowledges your oath. May your service uphold our house’s honor, and may your loyalty be unwavering. You may take your place."
There was nothing amiss in his tone. Nothing unusual. And yet...
Gabriel, Max, and Edward all noticed his slight change in speech, and his brow furrowed in impatience. Damian’s fingers tightened against the armrest of his throne, his control slipping slowly beneath his composed demeanor.
Gabriel’s fingers curled slightly in his lap, his mind sharpening despite the fog still clinging to his thoughts. He knew why. He had already suspected that Damian had absorbed more ether than he was letting on, but now, it was becoming clear.
’For the love of God, he’s an idiot.’ Gabriel sighed as he waited impatiently for the ceremony to conclude.
Max’s arms were crossed, his usual smug ease replaced by a calculating gaze as he studied his brother. His fingers tapped idly against his forearm, indicating that he had also noticed it.
Edward, ever composed, stood with his usual dignity, but Gabriel saw the minute shift in his posture—just enough to signal awareness. He knew. And he was waiting.
Christian rose smoothly from his kneeling position and stepped back into place, his expression as polished as ever. To anyone else in the room, the moment had gone by without incident.
As the ceremony’s final formalities concluded, the grand hall gradually transitioned from strict protocol to a more relaxed atmosphere. As the weight of the night settled, the nobles resumed their mingling, laughter,and hushed conversations filling the air. But beneath the surface, there was an unspoken tension, a sense that something had almost gone horribly wrong, that the Emperor’s control had been tested in ways they had rarely seen.
Gabriel remained seated, feeling the pressure in his skull ease slightly now that the ceremony was over. He let out a slow breath, measured and quiet, his fingers still curled lightly against the fabric of his attire. The ether in the air had settled somewhat, but its effects remained, lingering like a whisper against his skin.
Damian stood from his throne with practiced grace, a silent signal that the official proceedings were over. His expression remained unreadable, golden eyes scanning the room one final time before he turned toward Edward, who had already moved to his side.
"The ball is over," Damian announced, voice smooth and authoritative. "The court may continue as they please, but I am retiring for the evening."
It was final. No one would dare question it.
The nobles immediately shifted their conversations, keeping their chatter low but not daring to acknowledge the Emperor’s retreat with anything more than murmured courtesies. Some, particularly those hoping for an audience, looked disappointed but wisely held their tongues.
Gabriel knew this moment had been inevitable. Damian had been holding himself together all night, longer than anyone could have predicted. But now, as the weight of ether and exhaustion pulled at him, he was choosing to remove himself from the spectacle.
As Damian turned toward the grand exit, Edward followed closely behind, his ever-loyal presence ensuring the Emperor was not disturbed. Max, too, watched with sharp eyes, arms crossed, but he made no move to intervene. Instead, he let out a quiet exhale before casting a glance toward Gabriel.
"Don’t push him tonight," Max muttered, his voice just low enough for Gabriel to hear.
Gabriel tilted his head slightly, eyes still locked on Damian’s retreating form.
"I wasn’t planning on it," he replied, then smirked faintly. "But now that you mention it...
Max gave him a skeptical look but said nothing further.