"Your Imperial Highness," Rihaan said, staring at the door instead of at him.
He couldn’t face the oga he was supposed to be engaged to—not when he was about to call it off.
And the guests waited outside, unaware that the ceremony might never happen.
"Please." His voice was calm, but sothing trembled beneath it. "Cancel this engagent."
Soren didn’t reply. For the past few years, Rihaan had sent letters with those sa words written in them countless tis. But this ti, there was more weight behind them. This felt like his last attempt.
"Why should I listen to you?" he finally demanded, breaking the suffocating silence.
The light-brown-haired young man turned, only to find Soren staring at the sky, his golden eyes unfocused. The veil hiding his face fluttered back in the cold breeze, revealing strands of red hair.
"You speak as if you’re the only one suffering," Soren added, his voice lacking its usual steadiness—distant and cold. "As if this engagent is sothing I asked for."
Rihaan’s jaw tightened, fighting the urge to lash out like he usually did. The new relationship, yet to be ford, had destroyed whatever bond they once had.
"You didn’t refuse it either."
Soren lowered his head, eyes narrowing. "And? I only did what my duty as Imperial Crown Prince demanded of . Unlike you, who keeps fighting this."
"Please, I’m begging you," Rihaan pleaded, stepping closer with his head bowed.
The Imperial Crown Prince turned, eyes widening.
Rihaan was begging him?
Never in his life could he have imagined this man lowering his head for anything other than formality or pride. Rihaan always seed like the kind of arrogant alpha who did as he pleased—one who would never bend to anyone.
Suddenly, the alpha dropped to his knees, uncaring if his clothes were dirtied. Soren’s breath caught. Rihaan looked up at him, folding his hands together.
"Please... please. Don’t do this to . If you want, I will apologize for every ti I’ve been rude to you. I will do anything you want, but please—not this engagent. Not marriage." His voice cracked further. "I think... No. I will die if I am tied in this forced relationship."
Tears gathered at the corners of his eyes, threatening to fall. But he refused to show such weakness. He bit the inside of his cheek, the tallic taste of blood filling his mouth.
Soren swallowed hard and forced himself to look away. If he kept staring at Rihaan in this state, he feared the stone-like heart he had built would crack—and sympathy would slip in. Sothing that could only destroy him.
Rihaan gasped, realizing his last effort was slipping away. He clenched his fists and continued, his voice shaking.
"You have loved soone too. How can you do this?" A few tears slid down his cheeks.
"Marriage is not about love. That’s just a feeling, Crown Prince Rihaan. I don’t know why you are willing to risk so much for sothing like that," Soren replied, still refusing to face him.
"Is that so?" Rihaan forced a broken laugh. "You have loved soone too, haven’t you? Didn’t it kill you when you had to part ways with him?"
Soren didn’t answer.
Rihaan reached for the oga’s hand, his fingers trembling—whether from the cold or from fear. Fear of being forced to marry soone he didn’t love. Fear of betraying the one he did.
"I am begging you, Your Imperial Highness... please—please, cancel this. For the sake of all those years we studied together. For our friendship that was ruined because of this. And for the love you couldn’t save for the sake of duty." His voice cracked as he spoke. "Don’t do this to . I don’t... I don’t care about such things."
He pressed Soren’s hand against his cheek and sobbed quietly.
Soren felt the warmth of tears against his skin. His gaze finally flickered toward Rihaan, sympathy and pain reflected in his eyes. For so reason, his chest tightened at the sight before him.
"Will you be able to face what cos after?" he asked, his voice breaking despite himself.
Rihaan nodded imdiately, without hesitation.
The red-haired man inhaled deeply before exhaling, fog curling into the cold air.
"Very well. We should head back inside. It is quite cold without a jacket," he said softly, pulling his hand away and rubbing his palms together for warmth.
Rihaan sprang to his feet, staring at him in disbelief.
"R-Really?!"
Did he finally succeed? After all this ti?
Soren nodded, a faint smile on his lips. He couldn’t save his own love. Maybe by doing this, he could finally let go of the weight in his chest that so often refused to let him breathe.
"Yes..." he replied, unsure how his father would react to such a decision.
He will surely be so disappointed in ...
Biting his lip, Soren stepped back inside the banquet hall. The sudden warmth of the hall burned against skin that had grown accustod to the cold of the terrace.
***
Ren and Zayden stood behind a large pillar decorated with fresh white roses. The hall was filled with the sound of a soft lody, and the couples on the dance floor didn’t rest for a mont. One after another kept joining, enjoying the night.
The engagent ceremony hadn’t been announced yet, giving the nobles ti to enjoy themselves.
Zayden gently wrapped an arm around Ren’s waist, and the oga quickly pulled away from the loose grip.
"What are you doing?!" he frowned.
"What? Am I doing sothing wrong?" Zayden asked innocently.
Ren narrowed his eyes, mouth slightly parted in disbelief.
"You—"
"By the way, where is Enzo?" the general asked, quickly changing the subject.
"He said he would join later," Ren replied, walking quickly toward a table so Zayden wouldn’t touch him carelessly.
"Why?"
"I am not sure."
Zayden pondered, almost certain of the reason his friend was behaving like this—even during his childhood friend Soren’s engagent night.
Just then, he noticed his brother walk out of the terrace. Behind him, Rihaan followed closely, his gaze darting left and right as if he were a thief.
As expected, his brother climbed the stairs and sat on his chair next to the Emperor. He leaned toward the older man and whispered sothing that made his father’s expression darken.
Zaphyr glared at Soren, the veins in his neck visibly tightening.
What is going on?...
Just as Zayden was about to head toward them, Ren held his hand, looking up at him.
"What’s wrong?" The silver-haired man asked.
"Nothing..." Zayden forcefully curled his lips into a grin.
Ren realized it wasn’t a sincere smile and still returned it.
"Sit down then." He gestured toward the chair beside him. "I think the ceremony will begin soon because His Imperial Highness has taken his seat."
Zayden nodded although his father and brother’s deanour unsettled him.
Before he could think further, a movent caught his attention. His gaze flickered toward Ren, who rose from his seat.
"Where are you going?" he demanded, narrowing his eyes.
"Well, Lord Enzo is here."
"Lord Enzo," Zayden echoed, mimicking the tone. "Don’t you think you’re paying him too much attention lately?" He raised an eyebrow.
Ren frowned, shaking his head.
"Are you jealous?"
"I am only a demon," Zayden said, reaching for Ren’s hand and pressing a soft kiss to it. "Possessive. Territorial and..." he murmured.
"And?" Ren chuckled.
"And loving, of course," the alpha grinned, winking.
"You flirt quite well," the oga remarked.
"Flirt? I’m simply expressing my love for you, sweetheart."
A light pink tint blood across the silver-haired man’s cheeks.
"You—"
"How adorable!" Enzo approached them, still walking with the help of his cane.
The nobles’ gazes were fixed on him as if he were sothing that did not belong to their world. Murmurs rippled through the hall, polished but no less cruel.
"What on earth happened to him?"
"I hear this is the price of requesting a divorce."
"How disgracefully improper."
"He should have known his place."
"Serves him right."
Ren quickly pulled his hand away and hurried forward to support the man.
"Are you alright?" he asked quietly.
Enzo forced a smile, nodding, though his chest tightened. No matter how firmly he told himself he was over Zayden, the sight of those two being so close always left a bitter sting he couldn’t quite swallow.
Even against his own will, jealousy curled in his chest—silent, unwanted, yet, painfully alive.
Although now, Zayden’s scent no longer brought him peace. It brought him agony—an agony he never imagined he could feel because of the very man he loved.
Ren offered his arm, allowing Enzo to steady himself. Together they crossed the hall through the sea of curious eyes.
Zayden watched silently, noting how Enzo kept his gaze lowered, as if eting anyone’s eyes now felt dangerous.
When the two reached the table, Enzo did not sit beside Zayden as he always did. Instead, he chose the seat opposite—one chair farther than etiquette required. The distance wasn’t large, yet it felt like a chasm.
Ren sat beside him without hesitation, arranging Enzo’s coat over the back of his seat, like the perfect servant he used to be—or still was.
Enzo thanked him in a whisper, smiling softly.
Zayden leaned back, studying the two n. His expression remained calm, but his red eyes darkened faintly.
He never sat this far from ...
Before, Enzo never hesitated to stand by his side—confident and outspoken. Now, he sat stiffly with his cane, hands folded as though bracing for the world to strike him again.
"Are you alright, Enzo?" Zayden asked, and the man flinched as if he didn’t expect this question to be asked.
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