Haydn chuckled, hugging him back. “I’m glad you didn’t hate me.” Pulling away a little, he peered at Devlin curiously. “So what were you talking about back there? Are you really not marrying Blake? I thought you were courting him. Even back in Kadar it’s all over the social media.”
Grimacing, Devlin pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it. “Oh, I fully intend to marry a Blake,” he said, taking a long drag. It did nothing to alleviate the agitated feeling under his skin. Fuck, he wanted to see Julian. “Just not the one people think.”
“What?”
Chapter 24
Jules had attended quite a few parties and balls since they had arrived at the capital, but the royal ball was something else.
He’d never been at the palace before, and the luxury was both overwhelming and humbling. It made Jules acutely aware that they were little more than country bumpkins, only invited because of Liam’s undisputed success as the Diamond of the Season—and because Devlin intended to marry him.
Jules bit the inside of his cheek so hard he tasted blood. Not thinking about it, not thinking about it, not thinking about it.
Fuck, he was terrible at not thinking about it.
He should have stayed home. He should have made up some excuse to skip the ball.
But he was so damn weak. So weak for him. He wanted to be there for Devlin—this was a very important evening for him. Devlin would be declared the heir tonight. Jules had no idea how people would react, so he wanted Devlin to have at least one supporter in the ballroom, even if it was just an unremarkable omega no one ever noticed. Maybe Devlin wouldn’t even care whether he was there or not, but… Jules couldn’t not go. Even if it shattered his heart into a million pieces when Devlin’s engagement to Liam was announced.
Jules didn’t know for sure that it would be announced tonight. There were strong rumors on the Internet that it would be—apparently some reliable source from the palace had leaked it already. Liam was aware of the rumors, too, of course, and he was dressed to the nines, in a pale blue suit that looked amazing with his golden coloring. He looked even more beautiful than usual, though he seemed rather pale.
“Nervous?” Jules said with a smile. It hurt his face.
Liam shrugged, avoiding his gaze. “Of course not. I just think it’s extremely presumptuous of Westcliff to announce our betrothal without even asking me first.” He scoffed. “But then again, it’s very in character for him. Heaven forbid he actually admit being wrong.”
Jules hugged his chest with his arms. “Give him a chance. He’s not that bad.” It felt like every word scratched the inside of his throat. He hated himself for the ugly, burning jealousy twisting his insides. He loved his brother. He did. He shouldn’t feel this way.
Excited murmurs suddenly filled the air and Jules turned his head.
“That’s Prince Haydn,” Liam whispered, taking Jules’s arm.
Jules could see that.
He now could understand why Prince Haydn was so loved. He practically exuded warmth. He was very easy to like. The way he smiled was good-natured and down-to-earth. While he was handsome, he wasn’t too handsome—nowhere near as intimidatingly handsome as Devlin was. When Devlin followed Haydn into the ballroom, Jules couldn’t help but notice the stark contrast between how people looked at them: they looked at Devlin with a mix of reluctant attraction, envy, and wariness, while they looked at Haydn with easy smiles and fondness. Haydn truly was the Golden Prince: genuinely loved by his people, despite all the recent controversy surrounding his marriage to a Kadarian alpha. Jules now understood why the royal publicity team was afraid of riots when Prince Haydn’s disinheritance was announced.
Frowning, Jules dropped his gaze. But it returned to Devlin almost right away, drawn to him like a magnet. His stomach lurched when their eyes met, the whole world narrowing down to Devlin and him alone, his thoughts a whirlwind of why are you so far away, need you closer, need to breathe you in, need you, need you.
But then Haydn touched Devlin’s shoulder and said something, and Devlin turned away.
Suddenly there were sounds around him again as if a lid had been lifted. Jules felt the loss of Devlin’s gaze almost physically. He was glad King Stefan’s entrance distracted everyone around him, because he probably looked as stricken as he felt. Fuck, this was terrible. How was he going to bear being Devlin’s brother-in-law? The mere thought made him sick. Maybe he should tell Uncle Wayne that he wanted to marry Viscount Nasr. Or even Korf. Anything would be better than living under the same roof as Devlin and Liam.
He was so distracted by his depressing thoughts that he’d missed the king’s speech.
“… for coming tonight,” King Stefan was saying into his microphone, looking as regal, proud, and handsome as ever. “Now I’d like to give my son an opportunity to speak to you.” He stepped down from the podium and Prince Haydn took his place.