Dark Moon Fourth Arc (Thorns of The Black Throne) - 521. Separating The Royals IV

Fourth Arc (Thorns of The Black Throne) - 521. Separating The Royals IV

Rose glanced at Angel.

It was quick. So quick anyone else would think she was just checking where her husband stood among the growing cluster of noblewomen. But Angel caught it.

Their eyes met across the tea court.

A slow smirk touched Rose’s lips.

A matching one appeared on Angel’s.

Small. Barely visible.

But enough.

They knew this trick.

Separate them. Distract him. Lead her somewhere quieter. Let conversation loosen. Let distance create opportunity.

Fine.

They would play along.

Rose turned back to the lord before her, smile softening into something beautifully polite. “Fine,” she said. “Show me the way.”

The lord’s expression brightened too quickly. His relief was a crack in the mask.

Rose noted it and followed him.

Behind her, the tea court shifted immediately like a pond disturbed by one falling petal. The noblewomen surrounding Angel moved closer, graceful as dancers, cutting off the lines of sight with layered dresses, ribbons, fans, and carefully placed laughter.

“How does Your Majesty find Pontus tea?”

“Have you seen the eastern courtyard yet?”

“Is it true Euphorion moon silk shines under candlelight?”

“Your Majesty, may I ask about the conquest of Draconis?”

Angel accepted it with the same calm expression he wore when reading death warrants.

Brutally patient.

A young noblewoman with pearl earrings leaned closer, lashes lowered prettily.

“I imagine ruling four crowns must be exhausting,” she said. “Do you ever seek… comfort away from duty?”

Angel looked at her. Just with the quiet attention of someone inspecting an error in a report. “No.”

The woman blinked.

Her fan paused.

Another tried quickly, laughing softly.

“Surely Your Majesty enjoys lighter conversation?”

“I do,” Angel said.

She smiled in triumph.

“When it is intelligent.”

The smile died slowly.

Several women laughed politely because they did not know what else to do.

Angel lifted his cup and took the smallest sip, eyes already drifting, not toward Rose openly, but toward the general direction she had disappeared.

He knew she could handle herself.

That did not mean he liked watching people try.

Rose, meanwhile, walked beside the lord through a narrow garden path trimmed with white stone borders. The noise of the tea court faded behind them, replaced by the quiet rustle of leaves and the steady trickle of water somewhere ahead. The scent of the party faded too. Less perfume. Less sugar. More damp soil, green stems, and sun-warmed stone.

The lord walked half a step ahead, posture elegant, hand gesturing occasionally toward flowering bushes as if he were giving some educated tour.

Rose let him speak.

Sometimes silence made people braver.

Sometimes it made them stupid.

“This garden is often overlooked,” he said. “Most guests prefer the main terrace.”

“How unfortunate,” Rose said.

“Indeed. There are many rare specimens here.”

“Rare is a relative word.”

He glanced back.

Rose smiled.

He laughed lightly. “You are difficult to impress.”

“I am from the Heart family.”

“Ah. Of course.”

The words came with admiration, but beneath them sat annoyance.

They turned past a stone fountain tucked behind flowering hedges. The space opened into a quieter corner, shaded by tall trees. No servants stood nearby. No cluster of gossiping noblewomen.

Rose stopped walking. “I think this place is enough.”

The lord turned to her.

For a moment, his court smile sharpened with anticipation.

Then he smoothed it away.

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

He reached inside the fold of his coat and withdrew a small bundle wrapped in pale cloth. Carefully, almost reverently, he opened it.

Flowers.

Small, star-shaped blossoms with deep violet petals and silver veins running through them like lightning trapped beneath skin. Beautiful. Delicate. Rare indeed.

At least, rare in Pontus.

Rose knew them immediately.

Moonveil asters.

Good for medicine. Excellent for cooling fever, stabilizing mild mana burns, and balancing certain volatile potion bases when harvested under night dew.

Useful flowers.

Valuable too.

But not impressive enough to make her gasp.

She had an entire hidden garden full of them back in Zephyrus once.

And Angel had built her a new one in Euphorion. Bigger. Safer. Better soil. Better irrigation. Because apparently when Angel decided to pamper someone, he didn’t buy a bouquet. He annexed logistics and improved agriculture.

The memory almost made her smile for real.