Chapter 75: See Us
The last thing Naomi remembered was her parents being taken to the hospital. And now, here they were, standing as though nothing had happened. Wasn’t Anna supposed to be in reverend school?
A knot tightened in Naomi’s stomach, unease clawing at her. She clutched Zylan’s arm a little tighter, her fingers trembling slightly as she processed what she was seeing. What could they possibly be doing here?
Little did Naomi know, their presence at the ball was nothing more than a pretense. Her father, ever concerned with his reputation, had undoubtedly orchestrated this appearance for his carefully crafted public image.
Zylan, who had noticed Naomi’s sudden change in demeanor, leaned in closer, his deep voice steady and calm.
"Eaglet, Are you okay?"
Naomi nodded quickly, forcing a faint smile. She couldn’t afford to let her emotions show—not here, not now. Her golden eyes darted back toward her family, who blended seamlessly into the crowd of elites. Yet, their faces stood out vividly to her, as though burned into her mind. They might have been hidden to others, but not to her. Not when they were her family.
Zylan’s sharp eyes swept across the room, briefly pausing as a faint frown tugged at the corner of his lips. His jaw tightened, an almost imperceptible reaction that hinted at a buried tension. Had he seen something—or someone—that unsettled him? But just as quickly as the expression appeared, it was gone, replaced by his usual composed, unreadable demeanor.
"Come," Zylan said softly, guiding her away. His movements were fluid, deliberate, as though shielding her from unseen eyes. He led Naomi to a secluded corner, a space that felt private yet intentionally crafted to overlook the grandeur of the ballroom.
The atmosphere shifted as they settled into the intimate space. Soft lighting illuminated the polished table, casting a warm glow that contrasted the grandeur of the chandelier-lit ballroom. Naomi sat stiffly, her thoughts still swirling around her parents’ unexpected appearance.
A waiter approached them with a tray of drinks, his posture respectful but attentive. Zylan’s gaze shifted briefly, sharp and deliberate. With a slight nod from him, the waiter removed the glass of alcohol meant for Naomi and replaced it with a simple glass of orange juice.
Naomi exchanged a brief smile with the waiter as he handed her the drink. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice soft.