The grand ballroom, which only hours prior had been a glittering sea of gold leaf, fine silk, and noble laughter, now resembled a battlefield frozen in time. The remnants of the abrupt chaos were scattered everywhere.

Yerel stood near the center of the floor, his boots treading silently over a stain of spilled drink. He had been wandering aimlessly from corner to corner for what felt like hours, his thoughts in complete disarray and his nerves stretched to their limit.

Near the grand arched entrance of the ballroom, his father was visibly dizzy with anxiety and rage. The sovereign repeatedly rubbed his temples, his complexion an ashen gray as he muttered a stream of frantic, repetitive complaints to his high-ranking ministers.

If the Solaric Princess died under the imperial palace’s roof, a full-scale war wouldn’t just be a threat, it would be an absolute certainty. The only tiny shred of hope they currently held onto was the High Priest, who had locked himself inside the private chambers and promised he would keep trying to stabilize her.

Realizing there was absolutely nothing more he could do, and that standing in the hollow ballroom was only increasing his blood pressure, King Alderon eventually turned back. He left the room with a weary, furious sigh, followed by his royal guards, desperate to nurse his growing headache in his private quarters.

Once his father’s heavy footsteps faded entirely, a figure stepped out from the deep shadows near the pillars. It was Karson. He approached the Crown Prince, keeping his head low as he delivered his official security report.

"We have scoured every single inch of the inner and outer palace grounds, Your Highness," Karson reported. "Every single guest who attended the banquet has been thoroughly searched before being confined to their temporary quarters. We found absolutely nothing suspicious on them. No hidden vials, no toxic residue, nothing. There are no signs of an intruder, an assassination guild member, or an unrecognized figure within the inner perimeter during the entire evening."

Yerel closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as a wave of irritation washed over him. "Keep tightening the security anyway," he commanded, his voice completely flat, devoid of its usual arrogant edge. "Increase the patrol rotations around the guest wing. Double the mages at the main gates."

Karson hesitated, shifting his weight uneasily before taking a small step closer. He looked around the empty ballroom before whispering, "My Lord... if no outsider could have possibly slipped through the defenses, and if all the guests are clean... it is best to also think that someone from the palace did this. An insider."

"Yes," Yerel muttered, his eyelids heavy as he stared blankly at a shattered plate on the floor. "I know."

He knew it all too well.

When the chaos had first erupted, Yerel had loudly proclaimed that he would personally investigate this crisis, eager to claim the glory of exposing a traitor. But now, with the dead of night weighing down on him, a heavy, soul-deep fatigue was washing over him.

He bitterly wished things like this didn’t happen, or at least, that they hadn’t happened on a night when all eyes were fixed on the alliances they were desperately trying to secure.

Needing a breath of fresh air to clear his increasingly crowded, chaotic thoughts, Yerel turned away from Karson. Without giving any further orders, the Crown Prince left the stuffy ballroom and made his way through the corridors until he reached the garden.

Yerel walked aimlessly. He didn’t have a destination in mind, yet his feet seemed to guide him through the labyrinth of greenery with a strange pulled gravity.

Eventually, his footsteps slowed to a complete halt.

He found himself standing in the courtyard below a familiar stone balcony. His eyes lifted instinctively, and a moment later, he realized exactly where he was. It was Cherion’s old chamber. 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶

How did he manage to end up here of all places?

Yerel remained in the shadows of the tree, questioning what he was even doing there. Then he suddenly froze.

Silhouetted against the soft light from the bedroom beyond, a figure stepped out onto the balcony.

It was Cherion.

Even from afar, Cherion looked striking. He was leaning against the railing, his pale face tilted up toward the night sky, seemingly lost in his own world. Seeing him there, a small smile touched the Yerel’s lips. A strange, fleeting sense of familiarity washed over him, a reminder of a time before everything had become so violently complicated.

But the little smile vanished instantly.

From the shadows of the room behind Cherion, a second, massive figure stepped out onto the balcony.

Yerel’s face went entirely rigid, his little smile completely replaced by a deep, ugly frown that twisted his features. He watched, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the fabric of his own tunic.

Zarius didn’t hesitate. The Duke stepped right up behind Cherion, surrounding him with his presence. And then, right there in the open air, Zarius reached out, gently turning Cherion around to face him.

Yerel’s heart hammered against his ribs in a sudden, violent surge of disbelief.

They kissed.

It wasn’t a brief, chaste touch of reassurance. It was a slow, deep, and intensely passionate embrace. Zarius’s hand cupped Cherion’s face, tilting his chin up, while Cherion reached up, his hand resting securely on the Duke’s broad shoulder, sinking entirely into the gesture.

How dare they... How dare they kiss when there were far more important matters at hand? In front of me?

Every instinct told Yerel to stop watching. He fiercely ordered his mind to turn his head away, to turn around and walk away. Yet, his boots felt glued to the pavement.

He couldn’t move a single inch. His eyes remained wide, fixed entirely on the balcony as Zarius’s lips trailed a burning path down Cherion’s neck.

Then, the passionate bubble on the balcony seemed to burst.

In the middle of the embrace, Cherion’s head shifted slightly. His eyes fluttered open, tracking downward into the courtyard. His gaze locked directly onto the shadow of the tree where Yerel was standing.

Their eyes met.

Even from the distance, Yerel could feel the sudden shift in the air. Cherion froze for a fraction of a second. A look of profound annoyance and utter disgust flashed across his face, instantly souring the romantic mood.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Cherion pulled back from the Duke, grabbed Zarius by the front of his shirt, and aggressively pulled him back inside.

And that was how Yerel was left standing alone in the dark, struggling to contain the fury threatening to overwhelm him.

"Your Highness?"

At the sound of someone calling from behind, Yerel whipped his head around to find Karson standing at the edge of the path. "What are you doing here?"

Yerel forced every trace of emotion from his face, leaving behind only cold restraint. He turned his back on the silent balcony, his voice barely louder than a breath.

"No. Nothing."