Chapter 277

Chapter 277
Isla’s unease sharpened. “He thinks something is going to go wrong.
“Yes,” Lance said. “And when Nolan gets like that… it’s usually because his instincts are picking up on something.”
She folded her arms loosely, a familiar defensive posture. “Crescent River feels strange too.”
That caught his attention. “How so?”
“There’s excitement, yes,” she said. “But also nerves. People are watching Kieran more closely now that Nolan’s pulling ahead.” She lowered her voice slightly. “And there are rumors.”
Lance’s expression tightened. “What kind of rumors?”
“That he’s been acting… erratically,” Isla said. “Snapping at advisors. Cancelling meetings at the last minute. Then showing up unannounced at others.” She hesitated. “And that he’s obsessed with controlling the narrative. More than usual.”
Lance frowned. “That tracks with what Nolan’s been seeing. It makes sense, too. Kieran has always been all about controlling the narrative, and this has gotten out of his control.”
“Some are saying he’s desperate,” Isla continued. “Others think he’s planning something dramatic. A final move.”
Lance leaned forward, forearms resting on the table now. “That concerns me.”
“It should,” Isla said quietly. “Desperate people don’t stop just because the odds turn against them.”
“No,” he agreed. “They escalate.”
The word lingered between them, heavy with implication.
Lance thought of Claire, of the way Kieran had manipulated Ellie without anyone knowing. If his subtle tactics had failed, would he try something more direct? What would that even look like from him?
Isla swallowed. “Do you think Nolan is safe?”
Lance didn’t answer immediately. “I think he’s prepared,” he said finally. “But preparation doesn’t always stop chaos. It just means you’re not blindsided when it hits.”
She nodded slowly. “And Ellie?”
“She’s strong,” Lance said. “Stronger than most people realize.”
Isla managed a small smile. “I can see why he loves her.”
“So can I,” Lance said without hesitation.
The honesty surprised her.
She looked at him then, really looked at him—at the steadiness in his posture, the quiet certainty in his eyes. The way he wasn’t trying to convince her of anything, wasn’t asking her to promise something she couldn’t give
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yet.
He was just there.
“You still want this,” she said softly. “Us.”
“Yes,” Lance replied immediately. “Even knowing it won’t be easy. Nothing worth having comes easily.”
“And even knowing I’m… complicated,” she added.
He smiled faintly. “I’d be disappointed if you weren’t. Besides, I’m just as complicated.”
Her breath caught, just slightly.
Lance had a reputation that everyone across the kingdoms knew about. When her parents had announced that she would marry him, Isla had expected to find herself shackled to a handsome, irresponsible playboy.
He was reckless, cocky, lazy, and disloyal. That’s what she’d been told. None of that mattered, of course, because the marriage was meant to be a farce.
But that first day they’d met when she crashed the party on his boat had proven that the rumors about Lance were wrong.
He wasn’t reckless; he just craved action. He wasn’t cocky; he was confident. He wasn’t lazy; he just didn’t waste energy on things just because they were traditional or expected of him. He wasn’t disloyal, he reserved his loyalty for those who earned
it.
Lance wasn’t what she expected him to be, and that was why she’d fallen for him.
“I don’t know what happens after the debate,” she said. “Everything feels like it’s balanced on that moment.”
“Then we deal with what comes after,” Lance said. “Together, if you’ll let me stay by your side.”
She looked down at the table, then back up at him.
“I’m afraid,” she admitted. “Not of you. Of what people will do when they realize they’re losing. So many people have based their plans for the future on what they thought they knew about Nolan and about you. Now that they’re being proven wrong…
Lance reached across the table then, this time taking her hand. His grip was warm, steady, grounding.
“Fear doesn’t mean you walk away,” he said. “It means you pay attention.” She squeezed his hand in return, tentative but real.
Around them, the restaurant hummed with quiet life-laughter from a nearby table, the clink of glasses, the soft rush of the river carrying everything forward whether they were ready or not.
Somewhere beyond the lantern light, rumors spread. Plans shifted. Lines were drawn.
But for this moment, Isla let herself sit in the present.
Not because she believed the storm would pass without consequence.
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But because she finally believed she didn’t have to face it alone.
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