As the tension in the ballroom threatened to boil over completely, Constance's composure finally cracked entirely, her earlier aristocratic restraint replaced by raw, unfiltered fury. She turned sharply toward the unconscious young woman still lying near the ballroom's edge, her voice rising into an aggressive, venomous shout.
"Aria, you—" she began, her words cut off sharply as several guests gasped audibly, shocked by the sheer venom dripping from her voice despite addressing someone who remained completely unconscious and unable to respond.
Vivienne Ashworth, Constance's daughter, stepped forward suddenly, her red gown catching the ballroom's chandelier light as she positioned herself directly between her mother and Alexander, her expression twisted with confusion and mounting anger. "What kind of sick game are you playing?" she demanded, pointing an accusatory finger directly at Alexander, her voice carrying sharply across the tense, silent ballroom.
Alexander's expression remained hard and unyielding, his earlier rage now tempered by cold, deliberate resolve. "This isn't a game to me," he said firmly, his voice carrying none of its earlier emotional intensity, replaced instead by calm, unwavering conviction. "Everything I'm doing tonight has been a long time coming."
Vivienne's eyes narrowed further, clearly unconvinced by his composed response. "You slapped my mother in front of the entire kingdom's nobility over some unconscious stranger nobody even recognizes," she snapped, her voice rising further with mounting frustration and confusion.