Chapter 129 - Secrets (1/2)

[This chapter was written whilst the author listened to Beethoven's 5 Secrets - OneRepublic - The Piano Guys in Youtube. Thank you very much.]

~He pets my hair every time he sees me, it's annoying.

He pets my hair every time he sees me, it's annoying.

He pets my hair every time he sees me, it's annoying.~

Olivia's words rang in Maxen's ears like a broken record. All the while he was armed and ready for a faceoff with Nikolai, but life had a way of pulling jokes on you when you least expected it.

Shortly after the queen of Vuono died, the late king married her divorced sister, welcoming the son she had in her first marriage. The said son was Konstantin Ivanov.

Lining up the siblings, he was the quietest of them all, always standing on the sidelines, silently supporting the crown's causes.

Some say he was the late king's actual son for Nikai, Natalia, and Konstantin were too identical, as if they came from the same mold.

To add fuel to the fire, rumor has it that the late king highly favored him over Nikolai when he was still alive.

But what bothered Maxen most was not how good and clean Konstantin's record was, but the fact that the latter was here to purchase Xandra's piece for an old friend, which he realized was Olivia all along.

Silent water runs deep.

Silence.

It was one characteristic that Konstantin Ivanov was known for. You wouldn't feel his presence, but when the time was ripe, he'll make sure one would see the deep-seated crack he paved for himself. And if what Maxen's gut told him was right, Konstantin Ivanov was only waiting for his chance to swoop in and leave a mark.

”Look at that. I see my little brother hasn't moved on from his uni crush who happens to be your girl,” Nikolai's voice echoed behind Maxen. His jaw ticked but he was quick to quell his anger.

”Brother!” Nikolai's voice boomed, but some guests ignored him for most of them knew how loud the King of Vuono loved attention—the louder his voice was, the more attention he wanted trained on him.

And seeing that he was standing close to Maxen, they hid their smirks behind the rims of their flutes.

Of course, they also knew the long-standing rift between the two. For unknown reasons, the silent competition between Nikolai and Maxen even escalated to a fistfight during one of the polo matches ending with Nikolai's signature crooked nose courtesy of Maxen's fist.

Studying the jackass beside him, Maxen snorted. He didn't want to entertain Nikolai, so he just tipped his flute, masking his anger with a grin. ”I guess it's high time for me to fix your nose, Nikolai.”

”Ha-ha! Ha-ha!” Nikolai's hand flew to his stomach, his eyes turned into a crescent moon. By the looks of it, he knew he got the result that he wanted by provoking Maxen.

As if his foot had a mind of its own, Maxen found himself walking back to where Konstantin and Olivia were chatting.

”Your Highness,” Olivia was about to curtsy when Maxen cupped her elbow, clearing his throat, but the instant his hand left, she still went on and defied him.

Her refusal to cooperate made his thoughts run amok, thinking of ways to discipline her later in the confines of their bedroom.

His eyes darted to hers, and a lopsided grin painted his face. He should be angry at her but the fire in Olivia's eyes burned. For a moment her hazel orbs turned into an amber glow as if challenging him to punish her right then and there.

The tense atmosphere in their group was dispersed when the live band started playing a song, and trickles of pairs headed to the dance floor. Maxen saw it as his opportunity to hog his baby for a dance.

”Thanks,” he said, passing his empty flute to Nikolai who reached for it, too late to realize what just transpired.

”Ha-ha! Ha-ha! Did he just turn me into a waitstaff?” Nikolai mused, glancing at Konstantin who schooled a blank expression.

”Care for a dance?” Maxen offered.

”Sure.” Olivia accepted his hand, letting Maxen whisk her to the dance floor.

The dark and powerful strings of cello echoed in the room, rousing the dormant passions in every guest, letting them pour out their emotions on the dance floor.

~I need another story

Something to get off my c.h.e.s.t