The Consort Of House Marasarah

21

Issy was shocked to her core by the series of events that were unfolding. Arion, that arrogant fool had really fucked everything up. The commotion seemed to have caught the attention of the entire room because all conversations had stopped and every vampire in the room seemed to be waiting to exhale.

Issy had to do something to defuse the situation before this matter blew up anymore than it already had. She moved her lips to speak but not a sound came out so she tried again.

"Massillon... " was the only word that came out. No honorific or title accompanied the name.

"MASSILLON!" Issy shouted this time and it seemed to snap the male out of his anger because he turned to face her. His beautiful green eyes were dark with anger and yet cold. His features were so hard as if cut from stone. In that moment she almost didn't recognize that face and that scared her a little making her hesitant to keep speaking.

Some of that fear must have showed on her face because the coldness slipped for a moment and confusion marred his prefect mask.

"Isalinah... Issy," Massillon said in a quiet tone before sighing alond, most of his reason returning to him. Then the embarrassment of the whole situation replaced the rest of his anger. He had allowed the boy to gall him into an outburst in front of some many witnesses to boot; in front of Isalinah. He hated himself in that moment for the look of fear he had seen in her eyes. She must now believe him a beast.

"Let's go Markus," Massillon mumbled as he turned to the nearest exist to leave with whatever self-respect he had left.

"Wait your Grace please!" Shouted a female voice behind him. It wasn't his female's voice but her mother's. The Consort was running after him most likely to beg for his forgiveness. Despite himself, Massillon made himself stop and face the female because she seemed determined to run him down.

The female for her part launched into a rambling apology but Massillon heard none of it. His entire focus was on the now tear stained face of the female he had began to think of as his. Fucking hell, he swore she had started to cry.

When the Consort before him finally stopped speaking and looked at him expectantly, Massillon could admit to himself he had no idea what she had said or what type of response she was expecting because he had been focused on Isalinah's face. So he gave her a curt nod and turned to leave, this time she didn't follow.

Markus stayed close this time as they doubled timed it to the drive way. No doubt he had organized the car to collect them from there. As expected the Maybach was there waiting and Massillon pulled open the rear door and hopped into it; no pageantry this time. He simply wanted to leave.

"Take us straight to the airport. I want to be in the air as soon as possible," Massillon ordered. His tone was tight and he could feel a tension headache starting to form.

His staff had already seem to most of his packing so he really didn't need to go back to the penthouse. The jet was specially designed for travel during the sunlight and he could sleep on the plane if necessary.

As they drove farther away from the palace, Massillon could feel his headache growing more intense as his mind went the highlights of the night. God's above and below, he thought, what a fucking mess. Massillon knew that despite the fact that the Doesharee had been unacceptably rude, he had overreacted and now he had ruined their courtship.

Issy watched helplessly as Massillon practically ran away from her and her House and her stupid family. The male had been embarrassed by his outburst, she could see it in his features but she was prefectly clear in who the true culprit was here. It was the male standing next to her with barely contained smugness.