The Count froze, his words dying on his tongue. Julian took a few unhurried steps closer, his tone deceptively calm.
"I only wish to confirm one thing," he said. "If this woman truly carries the child of your second son, then there's only one honorable way to protect your family's name…"
He paused, eyes locking onto the Count's pale face.
"…and that is to marry her. Isn't that right, Count?"
The entire ballroom seemed to hold its breath. Count Erickson swallowed hard, color draining from his face, while murmurs rippled through the crowd like the rising tide. His second son, Andrey, stared down at his trembling hands, unable to meet anyone's gaze.
Julian's smile widened gentle, but cutting like a blade.
"I only think," he continued lightly, "that such a marriage would make everyone feel… much safer, don't you agree?"
The tone was polite. The meaning was lethal. Everyone could see it this was not a suggestion. It was a royal command wrapped in velvet.
