Chapter 347: Spell he had cast

"What? You dare file a complaint against me? You lowly—" The young noblewoman raised her hand to strike Xenia, but her wrist was caught mid-air by August.

A collective gasp echoed from the group as the prince stepped into view.

With a cold flick of his wrist, he shoved her back, sending her stumbling onto the dusty cobblestones of the street.

"Who is your father? What is his rank?" August demanded, his tone icy and measured. "I assure you, he will be on his knees begging for my mercy before morning."

He glanced back at Samir, who had already returned with the local inspector assigned to the night market’s security detail.

"Your Highness! I was informed that someone dared speak treason against your name," the inspector said, bowing low as he stepped forward, his eyes widening as he took in the scene.

"This woman," August declared, pointing a single finger at the girl on the ground. "She insulted both me and my father, branding me a bastard. Arrest her at once."

"Right away, Your Highness!" the inspector barked, signaling his men to seize her.

"Please! Forgive me, Your Highness! I meant no harm. I was reckless!" the noblewoman wept, struggling against the guards’ grip.

"Save your pleas for the magistrate tomorrow," August replied, gesturing sharply for the inspector to drag her away.

August turned his gaze to Xenia, a cold smirk hovering on his lips. "Either you are utter foolish, or you simply enjoy showing off in front of me."

"Showing off? No, Your Highness!" Xenia denied at once, quickly lowering her eyes to avoid his piercing gaze.

Seeing him turn and resume his stride down the crowded thoroughfare, she hurried after him, coming to a halt a single step behind. "Your Highness, what brings you to the night market at such an hour? Are you not concerned that someone might seek to harm you, wandering about without proper security?"

August paused, casting a glance back over his shoulder. "Why would anyone wish to harm me? I pose no threat to the Crown. I hold no title, save for this token my father granted me for the duration of my investigations."

Samir trailed behind them at a discreet distance, a faint smile touching his lips as he listened to their exchange, though his eyes remained sharp and attentive to the surrounding night market.

"Your Highness, those in power rarely look kindly upon anyone who seeks to alter the established order," Xenia answered softly.

August paused, turning his dark gaze upon her. "And what brings you to the capital?"

"My family has relocated here," she explained, her hands clasped neatly before her. "My brother Charlie purchased a plot of land and always intended to establish a business in the city. Thank you... for intervening earlier."

"I did no such thing," August dismissed coldly. He narrowed his eyes at her. "How did you manage to spot me in this crowd? Do not tell me you were lurking about, waiting for my appearance."

"I merely happened to catch sight of Your Highness," Xenia replied, arching her eyebrows in genuine confusion. "Though why does the prince assume I would be waiting for him?"

"Because you seize every opportunity to speak with me," August replied, halting abruptly.

Xenia paused in her tracks as he turned to face her, his cold, piercing eyes locking onto hers. "Speak it. I know you have been desperate to thank me for preserving your brothers’ lives."

Xenia stood flabbergasted, a sudden flutter rushing through her chest as her heart began to pound. "Yes," she confessed softly. "I traveled to the rest house where Your Highness was residing, but you had already departed. I have longed to offer my gratitude. I am deeply indebted to you for intervening in my brothers’ trial. Had it not been for your authority, I could never have saved them."

She lowered her head in a deep, respectful bow, her hands folded neatly over her waist. Looking up, she met his gaze once more. "I shall take my leave now, Your Highness."

She turned to walk away, entirely unaware of a porter rushing through the crowded thoroughfare behind her, carrying a towering load upon his back. August noticed the threat instantly. Reaching out, he seized her wrist and yanked her back toward him.

Xenia’s breath caught in her throat as she collided against him, her face nearly pressing into his chest. The frantic beating of her heart grew louder, and the rich scent of his expensive cologne enveloped her senses.

August lowered his head, his gaze lingering on her for a split second before releasing her wrist, entirely oblivious to the spell he had just cast over her.

"Return home before you manage to injure yourself," August remarked, stepping past her into the bustling crowd.

Xenia stood utterly frozen, his words failing to register as her mind raced to make sense of the sudden rush in her veins. She remained rooted to the cobblestones for a long minute before the trance finally broke.

She quickly scanned the dimly lit street ahead, but the crowd had already swallowed him whole.

"Where did he go?" Xenia mumbled to herself, her fingers lingering where his grip had been.

~~~~~

"Your Highness, the way Xenia defended you... I must say, she is the first woman who has ever dared to step forward like that on your behalf," Samir remarked as they turned into a quieter, secluded quarter of the market.

"Are you suggesting I ought to feel something because of it?" August asked smoothly, his sharp eyes scanning the shadowed storefronts for the hidden gambling parlor Louis had mentioned.

"How did His Highness read my mind?" Samir allowed a small smile.

"Cast away any absurd notions that I am going to magically fall in love," August pronounced, his voice dropping as he surveyed the narrow alleyway. "Our focus remains on the matter that brought us here."

"Of course, Your Highness. Though it is hardly a crime to entertain the thought of finding a companion," Samir countered lightly.

"Then perhaps you ought to pursue her yourself," August replied, casting a glance back. "You seem far more enchanted by her than I am."

"Your Highness, please..." Samir shook his head, a look of sudden panic crossing his face.

"There it is. The gambling house," August interrupted, a subtle smile touching his lips as his eyes caught the worn wooden sign swaying above the door. "Let us proceed."

They stepped into the dim entryway, pushing past the thick drapes, only to find the hall filled with smoke and quieted hush, every eye at the green felt tables turning abruptly toward the newcomers.

"Nobles? In this place?" a middle-aged man scoffed, holding his cigar out toward August as he passed.

August ignored the man entirely, stepping past him and striding directly toward the manager’s office at the rear of the parlor. Finding the heavy door locked despite a sharp knock, Samir stepped forward and delivered a swift, powerful kick against the wood, forcing the latch to yield.

"Who the fuck—"

The manager, a middle-aged man caught tangled with a woman on the sofa, nearly bellowed a curse, only to freeze as his eyes landed upon the prince. The woman hastily gathered her loose gown and fled into the inner room, leaving the manager to scramble to his feet and fumble with his disheveled attire.

"Forgive me, Your Highness," the manager stammered, bowing low. "That was... entirely improper."

Samir pulled back the grand leather chair behind the desk, allowing August to take a seat. The prince settled into the leather, crossing one leg over the other as his cold, assessing gaze fixed upon the trembling manager.

Samir drew a slender leather dossier from the inner pocket of his coat and handed it to the prince.

"Tell me, Brian, what manner of illicit substances are you peddling through the orphaned and poor children?" August inquired, flicking open the file.

"Your Highness... you must be laboring under a misunderstanding," Brian stammered, his throat tightening as a cold sweat broke across his brow. "Why would I ever involve myself in trade that is strictly forbidden by royal decree?"

"I would not have crossed this threshold were I not entirely certain, Brian," August replied, his gaze rising from the parchment, icy and unyielding. "Let us not make this tedious. I am hardly in the mood for a bloodbath today."

"Speak the truth to His Highness," Samir warned, drawing a sleek flintlock pistol from his belt and placing it firmly into August’s reaching hand.

"Your Highness, please... I beg of you, believe me," Brian pleaded, his voice trembling as he clung desperately to his deception. "If any such illicit trade were occurring here, the authorities would have shuttered this establishment long ago."

Before Brian could finish, August’s sharp senses caught the faint rustle of fabric and heavy footfalls lurking just beyond the threshold. He rose from his chair.

"It is remarkably easy to conceal a crime within the shadows of a gambling house," August remarked coldly. "I am well aware that you are shielding a rather influential family here in Varos, one that amassed its vast fortune through precisely these vile means."

With the pistol held steadily at his side, August stepped toward the door and scanned the dimly lit corridor, but the passage was entirely deserted.