The holy ruler

Chapter 6 - A Night Of Seduction

Mary’s POV (Extended Version)

I descended the staircase, my deep red gown shimmering in the candlelight, drawing every eye in the room. The colors of the ball swirled around me—golds, silvers, pastels—but nothing could rival the rich crimson of my dress. I moved with purpose, the soft fabric flowing behind me like a wave, each step deliberate as I approached my goal. The ball was in full swing, the laughter of the courtiers and the melody of the orchestra filling the air, but all I could hear was the pounding of my heart.

My eyes scanned the room quickly, zeroing in on Prince Adam. There he was, standing at the edge of the crowd, his gaze fixed on my sister, Anastasia. She was talking to him, laughing at some subtle joke, leaning closer than necessary, and I could feel the stirrings of annoyance rising within me. Anastasia, always with her charm, always the one to get attention.

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. This wasn't about her, though. No, it was about me. I had a mission, and nothing—nothing—was going to stand in my way.

As I made my way through the room, the noise of the celebration seemed to fade. It was as though the world had shrunk, leaving only the space between Prince Adam and me. The moment was drawing near, and I could feel the air shift, charged with potential. This was no longer just a ball. It was a battlefield, and I was ready to win.

I reached his side, and as I did, my red dress seemed to draw every eye in the room. His gaze flickered to me, the moment of recognition shining in his eyes. I saw it—the interest, the curiosity, the same pull I had felt since the first time we met. But now, there was something more—something deeper, something almost desperate. He was mine.

"Prince Adam," I said smoothly, my voice low and inviting. "May I have the pleasure of a dance?"

His smile was quick, warm, and without hesitation, he took my hand. We glided across the dance floor, the beat of the music matching the quickening of my pulse. Our bodies moved together effortlessly, the space between us growing smaller with each step. I could feel the intensity building, like a storm preparing to break. He was captivated, and with each turn, each delicate movement, I could feel him yielding to my influence. He wanted me.

My gaze flicked to Anastasia across the room. Her pink gown was a stark contrast to mine, an eye-catching splash of softness against the strength of my red. She was talking to Annabella now, but I could tell that her mind wasn’t fully in the conversation. Her eyes were darting between Adam and me, her expression flashing with a mixture of calculation and frustration. She had no idea what I was doing—what I was capable of.

But that didn't matter. I wasn’t here for her approval. I wasn’t here to fight her battles. I was here for Prince Adam.

As we twirled, I leaned in, my breath warm against his ear, my voice barely a whisper in the din of the music. "Let’s get some fresh air, shall we?" I suggested, keeping my eyes locked with his. The words were low, meant only for him.

He nodded, his breath warm against my skin as he leaned in closer. The world around us seemed to blur, the crowd fading as if they weren’t even there. In one fluid motion, we slipped out into the cool night air, the noise of the ballroom muffled behind us.

The gardens were dimly lit by flickering torches, casting long, shifting shadows against the stone walls. The air was fresh, filled with the scent of blooming flowers and crisp night air, but it felt like the calm before the storm. Our footsteps echoed softly along the stone path, the tension between us thick and undeniable. Every moment stretched, every second laden with meaning.

We walked in silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was filled with unspoken words, each one lingering between us, pulling us closer. I could feel him watching me, the heat of his gaze like a touch, making my pulse race even faster. It was no longer a matter of games. This was real. This was happening.

And then, he stopped.

I turned to him, our faces inches apart, the air heavy between us. His eyes, usually so controlled, burned with an intensity that made my breath catch. I saw the conflict in them—he was fighting something, torn between duty and desire, between the politics of our worlds and the pull between us.

"Mary," he whispered, his voice rough, "I can’t resist you." His words were like a spark, igniting something inside me.

I smiled, the corners of my lips curving upward. My heart raced, but I kept my composure. This was what I had worked for. This was the moment when everything would fall into place.

Without a word, I reached up, my hand gliding over the back of his neck, pulling him closer. Our lips met in a kiss, soft at first, hesitant, but then it deepened, becoming more urgent, more desperate. My heart hammered in my chest as I let go of all restraint, allowing the moment to sweep over me. His lips were warm, his kiss a promise, a declaration. There was no turning back now.

When we finally pulled apart, breathless, I met his gaze. I knew what I had done. I knew what this meant. There was no other choice for him now. I had secured my place in his heart, and nothing—nothing—would take that away from me.

Anastasia, with all her schemes, all her beauty, could do nothing to stop this. She would never have him. He was mine. And I would make sure the entire court knew it.