The banquet never fully recovered after that moment.

Not publicly, of course.

The musicians continued playing.

The servants continued pouring wine with trembling hands.

The nobles resumed speaking in carefully measured voices.

But the atmosphere had changed.

Every person in the hall had seen it.

The Lord of Death had almost touched her.

And worse—

He had wanted to.

Eva sat beside Acheron beneath hundreds of silver candles and pretended not to notice the way the Court kept staring.

It was becoming exhausting.

One noblewoman across the hall nearly snapped the stem of her goblet after watching Acheron pull his glove back on with visible restraint.

Another whispered something sharply into Lord Vael’s ear.

Vael looked deeply unwell.

Good.

Eva considered that personal growth.

The heartbeat beneath the contract had finally quieted again, though traces of it still lingered faintly beneath her ribs like distant thunder.

Acheron had not looked directly at her since the incident.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

The servants approached their side of the table now with the caution usually reserved for unstable explosives. No one touched Eva accidentally again.

Apparently palace survival instincts had improved dramatically.

Eva picked absently at something on her plate that may once have been a vegetable.

Or possibly a curse.

It was difficult to tell in this kingdom.

The silence beside her stretched longer and longer.

Eventually, she leaned slightly toward Acheron.

“So,” she murmured quietly, “are we pretending none of that happened?”

His silver gaze remained fixed on the hall below.

“Yes.”

“That feels emotionally unhealthy.”

“You continue to speak excessively.”

“And you continue to almost strangle servants with eye contact.”

A faint twitch moved through the shadows beneath his chair.

There.

Again.

That almost-reaction.

Eva was beginning to suspect the quickest way to destabilize the Lord of Death emotionally was simply to continue existing near him.

Useful information.

Dangerous information.

Potentially entertaining information.

Across the hall, Lord Vael finally rose from his seat.

The music softened instantly.

Several nobles turned toward him with visible anticipation.

Eva frowned.

“Oh no,” she muttered. “He looks like he’s about to make a speech.”

Acheron said nothing.

Which somehow confirmed her fears.

Vael descended the marble steps toward the center of the banquet floor, black robes sweeping dramatically behind him.

Honestly, Underworld aristocrats were exhausting.

He stopped directly beneath the elevated platform where Eva and Acheron sat.

Then he bowed stiffly toward the throne.

“My Lord,” he began smoothly, “the Court requests clarification regarding the mortal’s position within the palace.”

Ah.

There it was.

Political humiliation disguised as etiquette.

Eva leaned back in her chair slightly.

Interesting.

Vael wasn’t addressing her.

He was addressing ownership.

The Court did not care whether she belonged here.

They cared who she belonged to.

That realization settled unpleasantly in her stomach.

Acheron’s expression remained unreadable.

“She remains under my authority.”

Murmurs spread instantly through the hall.

Vael continued carefully.

“And yet she walks freely through the palace.”

“She is bound by contract.”

“Contracts can be temporary.”

The silver candles flickered violently overhead.

Eva noticed immediately.

So did everyone else.

Acheron’s shadows had begun moving again beneath the platform.

Slow.

Restless.

Dangerous.

Vael glanced briefly toward Eva then back toward the throne.

“The Court grows concerned regarding appearances.”

Ah.

Now that was interesting.

Not afraid of her.

Afraid of rumors.

Eva looked slowly around the hall.

Every noble present watched Acheron carefully now.

Waiting.

Judging.

Measuring weakness.

And suddenly, something clicked neatly into place inside her mind.

These people feared him.

Not because he was cruel.

Because he was untouchable.

Cold.

Controlled.

Absolute.

And she—

She had become the first visible crack in that image.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

Eva slowly set down her goblet.

Then smiled.

Not sweetly.

Dangerously.

“Well,” she said into the silence, “this feels like an excellent moment to make things worse.”

Acheron turned toward her immediately.

Too late.

Eva rose smoothly from her chair.

The banquet hall froze.

She descended the elevated platform steps slowly, silk sliding against marble beneath silver candlelight. Every eye in the room followed her movement now.

Including Acheron’s.

Especially Acheron’s.

The shadows beneath the hall stirred restlessly around her feet.

Possessive little traitors.

Eva stopped beside Vael.

The noble looked faintly alarmed already.

Excellent.

“You seem very invested,” Eva said lightly, “in where I stand.”

Vael’s expression hardened.

“You misunderstand your importance.”

“Possibly,” Eva agreed. “But I don’t think you misunderstand his.”

Silence crashed across the banquet hall.

Several nobles visibly stiffened.

Vael’s eyes narrowed sharply.

“You overestimate your influence, mortal.”

Eva smiled wider.

Then, deliberately—

She turned her back completely toward him.

Toward everyone.

And walked directly toward Acheron’s throne.

The entire Court stopped breathing.

Eva climbed the platform steps slowly.

One by one.

Until she stood beside the throne again.

Beside him.

Too close.

Always too close.

Then, before any surviving instinct could stop her—

She rested one hand lightly against the arm of Acheron’s chair.

Not touching him.

But close enough.

The reaction was immediate.

The shadows throughout the hall exploded outward violently.

Candles flickered blue.

Several nobles physically recoiled.

And beneath the contract—

That heartbeat slammed once.

Hard enough that Eva felt it beneath her skin.

The Court saw it.

All of them.

The silence that followed became enormous.

Lord Vael had gone completely still.

Acheron slowly turned his head toward Eva.

The silver in his eyes had darkened again.

Not cold now.

Something far more dangerous.

Warning.

Hunger.

Possession.

Eva held his gaze calmly despite the violent pounding of her pulse.

Then she looked back toward the Court.

And for the first time since entering the Underworld—

She understood power.

Not physical power.

Not magic.

Something older.

Fear.

The Court did not fear her.

But they feared what she was becoming to him.

Interesting.

Useful.

Potentially catastrophic.

Eva smiled sweetly toward Lord Vael.

“My apologies,” she said softly. “Was there confusion regarding where I’m allowed to stand?”

No one answered.

Because at that exact moment—

Every noble in the Underworld realized the mortal girl beside the throne had started learning how to weaponize the monster sitting on it.