Bound by the Mark of Lies (BL)
Chapter 159 - 154: Garden party (3)

Chapter 159: Chapter 154: Garden party (3)

Anya’s heels clicked with a measured rhythm, each step delicate and deliberate, the glint of her pale blue silk gown reflecting the morning light like frost on marble. Her smile was perfection, poised, empty, rehearsed. But Gabriel didn’t see her expression.

He smelled her first.

A cloying sweetness, rich and familiar, wrapped around a note that was wrong. That scent, amber, crushed violet, and something darker beneath. The same base as Damian’s cologne.

Gabriel’s stomach twisted. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and a slow heat crept up the side of his face; he could see red now.

I’m jealous. For fuck’s sake.

Gabriel forced his breath out through his nose, slow and measured, as if he could exhale the emotion away. He wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction. Not a twitch. Not a blink.

Anya’s goal was clear: to bait him. To make him move. To expose something raw.

And if he reacted, she’d claim innocence with that careful, court-trained smile.

"I’m just a beta," she’d purr. "How could I possibly know what scent the Emperor wears?"

As if half the nobility didn’t study every detail of Damian’s wardrobe like a holy script.

"She has no shame," Alexandra muttered, her voice razor-sharp as her fan snapped closed beside him.

Gabriel didn’t respond.

The rage was quiet now, cold and exact, pressed flat beneath his skin. He stared at Anya with the kind of expression that nobles feared most, one that promised elegance on the surface and consequences beneath.

"I should have brought popcorn," Alexandra added under her breath. "Or gloves. Do you want gloves? I’m feeling a duel coming on."

Gabriel’s lips curved, barely. "I’d rather break a vase over her head."

"Edward would have a stroke."

"Edward would approve of it if it were for this reason. She is lucky there is no furniture nearby," Gabriel murmured, his gaze still fixed on Anya.

"Gabriel," Alexandra said, quieter now. "She’s trying to get under your skin."

"She succeeded," he replied calmly. "But I’m not the one who’s going to bleed for it."

The breeze shifted again. Perfume, too sweet, too familiar, curled into the air like smoke.

And then, like a curse spoken with a smile, Anya arrived.

She moved with the grace that comes from years of practiced deception, silk whispering with each step. Pale blue, of course. A perfect contrast to the deep green of Alexandra’s gown and the darker tones Gabriel wore. She always liked to stand out, even when she was not wanted.

Her eyes sparkled, lips curled just right, every inch of her posture rehearsed.

"Gabriel," she said warmly, like they were old friends sharing a pleasant afternoon. "You’re looking well. Glowing, even."

Gabriel offered her a smile cold enough to crack glass. "An impressive feat, considering the scent of sabotage wafting through the garden."

Anya blinked, then laughed softly. "Oh, this?" She touched her wrist with mock surprise. "A gift. I thought it was charming."

Alexandra’s fan tapped once against her palm. "Curious choice, to wear the Emperor’s signature blend. It’s such a bold scent for someone... not claimed."

Anya turned to her, still smiling. "Oh, I wouldn’t know. As a beta, these things escape me. I suppose it simply suited me."

Gabriel tilted his head, his expression sharpening into elegance. "It doesn’t."

That landed. She straightened just slightly, shoulders stiffening beneath the silk. "Still so blunt."

"Still desperate," Gabriel said, raising one brow. His voice was velvet-lined with venom. "I’m sorry to inform you, but the Emperor had other matters to attend to. He won’t come today."

The words were smooth—too smooth. Gabriel knew Damian might step into the garden for a few moments, but nothing was certain.

Anya’s eyes flickered, lips parting just enough to let disappointment flash through. It was a crack. A small one, but Gabriel saw it. He relished it.

"Ah," she said, recovering fast. "Pity. I had hoped to offer my congratulations in person. You must be... thrilled."

Gabriel’s smile was unreadable. "Thrilled isn’t quite the word I’d use."

"Enchanted, then?"

"Oh no," Alexandra cut in, her tone dry as ash. "Enchanted was the last Empress. We’ve upgraded."

That earned a sharp glance from Anya, but before she could open her mouth to retaliate, the hush rolled through the garden like a wave, pulling everything quiet.

A shift in the nobles’ attention away from Gabriel and Anya and toward a new participant could only mean that the Emperor was entering the gardens.

Gabriel didn’t turn. He simply placed his glass back on the tray offered by a hovering servant, unhurried, letting his gaze trail lazily over Anya’s expression as it flickered: hope, panic, calculation, wilted pride.

Footsteps on stone. Measured. Crisp.

When he reached them, the scent of fire and frost replaced Anya’s cloying perfume, washing over Gabriel like clean wind through suffocating air.

Gabriel exhaled, just once.

Anya straightened, smoothing her gown in a single elegant sweep. "Your Majesty," she said, her voice almost breathless as she dipped into a curtsy, deeper than necessary.

His golden eyes were already fixed on Gabriel.

Gabriel met the gaze with flawless control, then offered an impeccable bow, deep enough to show respect, precise enough to draw no criticism, and yet... just detached enough to remind the court that respect and affection were not the same thing.

"Your Majesty," Gabriel said coolly.

Damian’s expression shifted, but only slightly. For anyone watching, it might have seemed unchanged. But Alexandra saw it. So did Anya. A flicker in the corner of his mouth. A subtle narrowing of his eyes.

The Emperor was not used to being bowed to by someone who wore his mark.

He stepped forward, closing the small distance between them with unhurried grace.

"I take it Edward has not brought you a coffee yet," Damian said, his voice low and deliberate, ignoring the princess entirely, as if she were a decorative shrub rather than a person in the garden.

Gabriel’s eyes glinted, the faintest smile threatening at the corner of his mouth. "No. But I will survive without it, just not in this stench."

A strangled silence followed.

Anya’s smile faltered. Only slightly. Enough to make Alexandra’s eyes gleam behind her fan.

Damian didn’t even blink. "We’ll take care of that."