Caught by the Mad Alpha King-Chapter 145: Breakfast With the Matriarchs (1)
The walk to the breakfast room was shorter than Chris would have liked and made worse by the fact that Dax looked far too pleased with himself the entire way.
"You could at least pretend to be sympathetic," Chris muttered as they turned the corner of the long marble corridor. "You do realize I’m walking into a coordinated ambush."
"I do," Dax said, tone far too calm. "But I find it endearing."
"Endearing," Chris repeated flatly. "That’s one word for it. The other is hellish."
"You exaggerate."
"I don’t exaggerate," Chris countered. "I anticipate."
They reached the tall double doors of the breakfast room before he could elaborate. Sunlight poured in through the tall arched windows beyond, gleaming off porcelain and crystal. The scent of roasted coffee, lemon pastries, and authority filled the air.
Serathine D’Argente and Cressida Fitzgeralt were already seated at the long table, and had been for quite some time.
Serathine looked striking as ever, her dark red hair pulled into a perfectly sculpted twist, a pair of amber earrings glinting against her pale skin. Even when sitting, she exuded the kind of poise that made men twice her size unconsciously straighten. Her amber eyes flicked up as soon as the doors opened, sharp, assessing, and mildly amused.
Cressida stood beside her, the epitome of old nobility: white hair coiled in a smooth chignon, blue eyes with the sharp glint of diamonds, and the patience of a woman who had seen empires rise and fall and found them all equally unimpressive. A silver brooch shaped like the Fitzgeralt crest gleamed on her lapel.
They turned toward the entrance in perfect unison, a sight that made even Dax pause for half a second.
"Ah," Serathine said, her tone smooth as silk. "The royal pair graces us at last."
Cressida’s lips curved faintly, though it didn’t reach her eyes. "We were beginning to think you intended to avoid us, Christopher."
Chris stopped just short of the table. "I did. It clearly didn’t work."
Serathine arched one elegant brow, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "You always were honest to a fault."
"I consider it a virtue," Chris said dryly.
Cressida took a slow sip of her coffee before speaking, her tone deceptively pleasant. "Virtue is useful only when it aligns with protocol."
Chris’s smile thinned. "And yet somehow, I’ve survived without it."
Dax moved past him before that could escalate, greeting both women with effortless charm. "Duchess D’Argente. Marchioness Fitzgeralt. I trust your journey from Palatine was pleasant."
Serathine inclined her head with regal grace. "Indeed," she said. "As it must be when one comes to correct a nation’s newest royal consort before public embarrassment occurs."
Chris blinked. "Excuse me?"
Cressida folded her hands neatly atop the table. "Your debut as consort, Christopher. We are merely ensuring that you do not undo months of political goodwill with a single look, gesture, or... ill-timed remark."
"That sounds oddly specific," Chris said, sliding into the seat across from them. "Almost as if you’ve already prepared a list."
"We have," Serathine said pleasantly, sliding a folder toward him. The motion was graceful, but her amber eyes glittered with amusement. "This week’s schedule."
Dax sat beside Chris, reaching for his coffee as if none of this involved him in the slightest. "You should be flattered," he murmured, half under his breath. "It’s an honor to terrify two of the most powerful women in the Empire into micromanaging your public image." 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞
Chris shot him a look. "You’re enjoying this again."
"Immensely."
Cressida cleared her throat softly, silencing both of them without raising her voice. "As amusing as your dynamic is, King Dax, we would appreciate your attention. The lessons concern both of you. When is your court expecting Christopher’s presentation?"
Dax leaned back in his chair, fingers resting loosely on the handle of his cup. "They’ve been insisting since the moment I returned from Rohan," he said, his tone calm but edged with the patience of a man used to politics. "Unfortunately, the excuse of Chris needing rest because of his health is starting to wear thin."
Chris frowned. "It wasn’t an excuse. I actually needed rest."
Dax didn’t look up, though the faint curve of his mouth gave him away. "You did. I just happened to make use of it to delay three councils and a public appearance."
Serathine smiled into her teacup, amused. Cressida was less forgiving. "So in other words," she said coolly, "two weeks."
"In two weeks," Dax confirmed, "he’ll meet the Prime Minister and several ministers from both councils. Small introductions. Nothing overwhelming." He set his cup down, his voice turning quieter. "And then, a month from now, he’ll be formally presented during the ceremony for my birthday."
Chris blinked. "Your birthday. The national holiday birthday?"
Dax hummed in affirmation. "Tradition."
"Tradition," Chris repeated, incredulous. "You mean the one with a parade, fireworks, and thousands of people watching live? I build bridges, Dax, not navigate political minefields in dress shoes."
"You only have to look royal; nobody would expect you to give speeches or be an active part of the ceremony."
Dax’s reassurance did absolutely nothing to help.
"Oh, wonderful," Chris muttered. "So I just have to stand there looking decorative while every minister in the Empire pretends not to judge me. That’s much better."
Serathine’s lips curved faintly. "That is the idea, dear. Presence before performance. You must learn how to stand beside the King in a way that makes people believe you belong there."
"I already belong there," Chris said, tone even. "I just don’t like being stared at like a public exhibit."
Cressida’s voice cut through the air, precise as a scalpel. "Then you’ll have to learn to make them stare for the right reasons."
Chris opened his mouth, but Dax’s hand brushed briefly against his knee under the table in warning. "Little moon," he said softly, tone low enough for only him to hear. "Don’t take the bait."
Chris’s jaw tightened, then he exhaled slowly. "I wasn’t going to," he lied, glaring at his cup instead of at Cressida.
Dax smiled. "Of course not."
