Nina rose and turned toward the door.
If he was this furious, he should have canceled the coronation.
A slow breath slipped out of her as she pressed two fingers to her temple, the faint ache there doing nothing to steady the thoughts circling in her mind. How exactly was she meant to apologize to a man who had just ordered her to disappear and never stand before him again?
The doors opened at her approach. She stepped into the hallway, her expression composed, her pace measured.
A pair of guards passed and bowed.
Nina acknowledged them with a slight nod and continued forward, turning the corner—
—and stopping abruptly as someone stepped into her path.
Her gaze lifted.
Her body stilled.
Dominic.
He stood tall, nearly Rodrigo's height, his brown hair neatly kept, his eyes the same shade—calm on the surface, but carrying something darker beneath. His hands were clasped behind his back, posture relaxed, as though he had been waiting.
