Caught by the Mad Alpha King-Chapter 147: Rumors and schedule

Dax’s grin was slow, shameless. "Married to you or not, I’m entitled to background checks. It’s due diligence."

Chris blinked at him. "Due diligence? You hacked my professional portfolio."

"I requested it," Dax corrected smoothly, as if the difference were moral rather than technical. "And you were impressive. The bridge restoration in North Lyrian? Brilliant structural work."

Chris narrowed his eyes. "You read my reports?"

"I read everything that concerns me," Dax said simply. "And you, little moon, concern me a great deal."

The professors exchanged polite, carefully blank looks, the collective posture of people who had learned to survive royal absurdity with professional detachment. Only Serathine seemed faintly entertained, hiding her amusement behind her teacup.

Cressida cleared her throat pointedly. "If His Majesty’s admiration is concluded, perhaps we might continue."

Dax inclined his head graciously. "By all means."

Chris exhaled, steadying himself with the kind of weary professionalism that came from years of client negotiations. "Right," he said. "So, introductions complete. What’s the schedule?"

Lady Vionne, the poised etiquette instructor, spoke first. "Morning sessions will focus on presence, posture, and speech. Duchess D’Argente and Marchioness Fitzgeralt will oversee your court comportment and public ceremony rehearsals."

"Of course they will," Chris muttered under his breath.

"Afternoons," continued Dr. Kruger, "are reserved for academic training: economics, diplomacy, and state management. Evenings for refinement sessions: public speaking, rhetoric, and social etiquette."

"And dance," the instructor added pleasantly, his voice bright enough to be suspicious.

Chris turned to him, deadpan. "Do I look like a man who dances?"

The instructor smiled like a predator. "You will."

Dax’s low chuckle didn’t help. "I’ll make sure of it." 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

Chris shot him a withering look. "You’re enjoying this far too much."

"I’m invested in your success," Dax said, his voice calm but his eyes gleaming.

Serathine folded her hands gracefully. "You should be, Majesty. After all, your own court will be watching him as a reflection of you."

That sobered Dax slightly, though his expression softened when he looked back at Chris. "He’ll do fine."

"I’m still in the room," Chris said, exasperated. "Also, when was Dax ever concerned with people and mostly court opinions of him?"

Serathine’s amber eyes sparkled knowingly. "When he found someone worth making an impression for," she said, the words mild but sharp enough to land.

Dax didn’t deny it. He simply leaned back in his chair, his smile lazy and entirely unrepentant. "A king has to evolve eventually," he said. "It keeps people guessing."

Cressida’s expression didn’t shift. "Most monarchs choose to evolve through diplomacy, not spontaneous acts of violence."

"Semantics," Dax murmured.

"Stabbing a man through the thigh with a pen is not semantics," she replied evenly.

Chris blinked. "You stabbed someone?"

Dax looked faintly amused, as if she’d brought up an old college story instead of an international incident. "He lied to me about a financial presentation. The chart axes were reversed."

"The axes?" Chris repeated, incredulous. "That’s your threshold for violence?"

"It was the third time," Dax said, voice perfectly calm. "And I didn’t kill him. I consider that restraint. I’ve killed for less, so now would you resume the schedule?"

Serathine blinked once, the only sign that she was recalibrating the conversation’s trajectory.

Cressida, to her credit, didn’t even flinch. "You make it sound as if restraint were a form of charity."

"It is," Dax replied mildly, folding his hands on the table. "Ask anyone who’s seen me lose my patience."

Chris rubbed a hand over his face. "That’s not the reassurance you think it is."

Serathine’s lips curved faintly, though her tone was light. "You see why we’ve taken such an interest in his public image, Christopher. A touch of civility will make a world of difference."

"A touch?" Chris asked. "You might need a full-scale intervention."

Dax leaned back in his chair, looking entirely too pleased. "You’re volunteering, then?"

"I’m reconsidering my life choices," Chris muttered.

"Don’t," Dax said softly. "You’re the only one in this room who doesn’t flinch when I talk like that. It’s refreshing."

Serathine’s amber eyes glinted with a wry kind of amusement. "That’s one word for it. ’Reckless’ might be another."

Cressida set her pen down with delicate movements. "If we could avoid expanding the King’s criminal record further, I’d like to finalize the training schedule before someone starts bleeding."

"Fine," Dax said smoothly, as if they’d merely been discussing the weather. "Continue."

Serathine exchanged a look with Cressida before gesturing for Lady Vionne to resume. "As I was saying," the instructor continued, a model of composure despite the shift in atmosphere, "morning sessions will begin promptly at nine..."

"Eight-thirty," Dax corrected.

Chris turned to him, incredulous. "You’re not even attending these."

"I like punctuality," Dax said simply.

"You like control," Chris muttered.

"Same outcome," Dax replied, smiling faintly.

The dance instructor coughed into his hand, clearly deciding that silence was safer.

Serathine smoothed the tension over with elegant diplomacy. "Very well, eight-thirty. Perhaps earlier sessions will help discipline both temperaments."

Cressida’s quill moved briskly across the page. "And it ensures fewer witnesses should the King’s patience expire again."

Chris tried, and failed, not to grin. "See, they’re learning your patterns already."

Dax’s violet eyes slid to him, amused but faintly dangerous. "Careful, little moon. You’re not exempt."

Chris arched an eyebrow. "From what, punctuality or stabbing?"

"Both."

Serathine’s laughter broke the tension once more, smooth and bright. "You two are going to be the end of us."

"Unlikely," Dax said as he stood and skillfully straightened his cuffs. "But I appreciate the optimism."

Cressida exhaled quietly. "Tomorrow, then. Eight-thirty sharp. Try not to terrify anyone before the first lesson."

"I make no promises," Dax said as he offered his arm to Chris, his expression deceptively polite.

Chris ignored the gesture and stood on his own, muttering, "I’m going to need more coffee than this kingdom can supply."

"Already arranged," Dax murmured, his smile slow. "I take care of what’s mine."

Serathine’s gaze lingered on them both, thoughtful and sharp. "Yes," she said softly. "You do."