Alexander crossed the ballroom floor with sharp, deliberate strides, his polished boots echoing against the marble tiles as guests instinctively parted to let him through. He barely glanced at the unconscious young woman as he passed her, his attention fixed entirely on Constance, whose earlier confidence remained fully intact, unaware of the fury rapidly approaching from across the room.
"How dare you speak about her that way," Alexander said, his voice low and controlled despite the visible tension radiating from his tightly clenched jaw. Constance turned toward him, momentarily startled by his sudden appearance, though her expression quickly shifted back into haughty defiance.
"I'm simply stating the obvious truth," she replied dismissively, clearly unprepared for the intensity building rapidly behind Alexander's normally composed royal demeanor. "That girl has no legitimate claim to—"
Her sentence never finished. Alexander's hand moved swiftly, delivering a sharp slap across her cheek that echoed loudly through the stunned ballroom, silencing every remaining conversation instantly. Guests gasped collectively, several stepping backward in shock, struggling to process what they had just witnessed from a member of the royal family they had always known as calm and reserved.
Constance staggered slightly, her hand flying instinctively to her stinging cheek, her earlier haughty confidence replaced entirely by stunned, humiliated disbelief. She stared up at Alexander, searching his expression for some explanation, finding instead only unwavering, barely restrained fury staring back at her.