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CHAPTER 9
~Jade's POV~
I didn't know what shocked me more—what I'd said in that washroom… or the fact that I'd said it to Xander.
I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at my hands as if they belonged to someone else. "Did I really just do that?" I muttered. "Did I really tease the deadliest Alpha in the kingdom?"
"Oh, you absolutely did," Javelin said, her voice bright—almost laughing. "And it was beautiful."
I scoffed, dragging a hand through my hair. "Beautiful is not the word I'd use. Reckless, maybe. Stupid, even."
"You didn't stutter. You didn't lower your eyes. You didn't apologize for breathing," she replied, pleased. "That alone makes it perfect."
"I wasn't supposed to say any of that," I argued. "It just slipped out."
"Because you were honest," Javelin said softly. "And because he was standing too close."
Heat crept up my neck at the reminder. "Or because I embarrassed myself."
She clicked her tongue. "No. Because you intrigued him."
I leaned back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling. "Or because I made him think I was… easy. Like I was throwing myself at him."
Javelin laughed outright then. "Oh, please. If that is what you think a whore looks like, then you truly don't know the power you carry."
I frowned. "Don't twist this. I don't want them looking at me like that."
"Like what?" she pressed. "Like a woman?"
I opened my mouth, then closed it again.
"It's time you stop pretending you're only claws and survival," Javelin continued, gentler now. "You are allowed to be soft. You are allowed to be desired. And you are certainly allowed to make Alphas want you."
"That sounds dangerous," I murmured.
"It sounds overdue," she countered. "Xander didn't see a careless girl tonight. He saw a lady who didn't flinch. One who met his gaze and didn't break."
I swallowed, my chest tightening as the memory surfaced—how his eyes had darkened, how the air between us had changed.
Later, under the warm spray of the bath, I let the water run down my shoulders, steam fogging the marble walls. I rested my forehead against the cool stone.
"What if I went too far?" I whispered.
"You didn't," Javelin said, unmistakably pleased. "You stepped forward. And trust me… he noticed."
My lips twitched despite myself.
"Lean into it," she added, almost sing-song. "Let them fall. You've been hiding long enough."
I closed my eyes, heart racing, and for the first time that night… I didn't feel ashamed of the spark I'd lit.
The next day, though, when our paths crossed, Xander did not spare me more than two glances as I was taken to my etiquette class with Duchess Ember.
The day passed in a haze of introductions and expectations. Duchess Ember was nothing as I imagined.
She was tall, sharp-eyed, and terrifyingly composed. "Posture first," she said briskly. "Grace is not softness. It is control."
I nodded. "Yes, My Lady," and did as she offered.
Silvie appeared not long after, smiling sweetly. "My lady," she curtsied. "Sorry to interrupt. I thought Jade might need moral support," she said, slipping beside me.
Duchess Ember's gaze flicked to her. "Then do try not to distract."
Silvie laughed lightly. "Of course." She distracted me anyway.
"Relax your shoulders," Ember instructed.
Silvie leaned in. "Careful, Jade. Too stiff looks unnatural."
When I corrected my posture, Ember frowned. "Not like that. You're anticipating the correction."
Silvie sighed. "Etiquette can be overwhelming your first time."
I bit my tongue and kept going. By the end of the lessons, my feet ached, my head throbbed, and my patience was gone.
I escaped to the garden without thinking. The trees were thick there, old and towering, their branches weaving shadows across the path. I stopped between them, fists clenched.
"I hate this," I snapped into the open field. "I hate being watched. I hate being corrected for breathing wrong. And I hate—"
"—that you're not allowed to fail?"
I froze, then whipped my head in the direction of the voice. I never expected anyone to be here listening. And even if they did, I expected Javelin to have warned me before they got too close or heard me.
Xade stepped out from between the trees, arms crossed with that unreadable, playful yet stoic expression.
"I didn't know anyone was here," I said sharply.
"You didn't check," he replied. "Which tells me you needed to say it."
I turned away. "You weren't supposed to hear that."
"Good," he said. "That means you weren't pretending."
I scoffed. "You think this is pretending?"
"I think," Xade said slowly, "that you're angry because you're changing faster than you're ready for."
I spun back to face him. "You don't know anything about me."
His gaze held mine. "I know you stood your ground yesterday. I know you're exhausted today. And I know you're not as fragile as everyone keeps assuming."
My chest tightened. Where was he going with this? How could he be spot on?
"Then why does it feel like I'm failing at everything?"
The words slipped out before I could stop them. They echoed softly through the garden, hanging between the tall trees and trimmed hedges like a confession I hadn't meant to make.
Xade didn't answer right away. He leaned back against a stone pillar, arms folded loosely, watching me the way someone watches a flame—careful, curious, and a little amused.
"Because you care," he said at last, simple and unguarded. "And because no one taught you how to stand in a world like this."
I let out a quiet laugh that didn't hold much humour. "Everyone else seems to know what they're doing."
"That's because they were trained for it," he replied easily. "You, on the other hand, were thrown into it."
The silence stretched between us, though this time it wasn't uncomfortable. The garden was quiet except for the rustle of leaves and the distant sound of fountains.
"You shouldn't be alone right now," Xade added softly.
"I am alone," I said without thinking.
He pushed off the pillar and stepped closer, close enough that I became painfully aware of his presence. "No," he said quietly. "You're just not used to being heard yet."
My chest tightened at that.
Before I could respond, his expression shifted to something lighter, sharper, unmistakably Xade. "So," he drawled, tilting his head, "what exactly are they teaching you in these etiquette sessions?"
I frowned. "A lot."
"Such as?"
"Posture. Greetings. How to walk into a room without looking like I want to escape it."
Xade hummed for about five seconds as he paced, before stopping in front of me with a grin that made my heart skip more than a beat. "Show me."
I blinked. "What?"
"Show me," he repeated, stepping closer. "Come on, Princess. Impress me. How do you greet a noble?"
"This isn't the time—"
"It's the perfect time," he interrupted smoothly. "No audience. No judgment. Just me."
That should have been my cue to walk away. Instead, I straightened my spine, lifted my chin, and did exactly what Duchess Ember had drilled into me earlier.
Xade's brows lifted slightly. "Not bad," he murmured. "But you're still holding tension here." He gestured vaguely toward my shoulders, then, without waiting for permission, placed his hands there.
Heat rushed through me instantly.
"Relax," he said lightly. "You look like you're bracing for impact." I exhaled slowly, letting my shoulders drop. "Better, now, walk."
I took a step forward, then another, focusing on balance and grace. On the third step, my foot caught on the uneven stone path.
I gasped as my body tripped backward, and Xade caught me effortlessly.
One moment I was falling, the next I was pressed against his chest, his arm firm around my waist. My hands instinctively curled into his shirt with our gazes locked.
For a moment there, everything else faded.
I could feel his steady, fast heartbeat which had been way too aware of mine. His face was close enough that I could see the slight curve of his smile soften into something quieter, more dangerous.
For a heartbeat, I thought he might kiss me. And something about this… this closeness, made my head feel dizzy and the next thing I knew, I leaned in without realizing it.
Then… "Ahem."
We sprang apart like we'd been burned, then whipped our heads at the same time to see Xavier standing a few steps away, arms crossed, expression unreadable. "Am I interrupting?"