The palace corridors had grown colder, not from the wind, but from the whispers that lingered after every footstep. Alec walked in silence, his posture upright but his expression weary. Ever since Princess Seraphina's false accusation, the atmosphere had changed. Conversations stopped when he entered a room. Eyes lingered too long. Laughter followed behind closed doors.
He passed a pair of guards who stiffened as he walked by, their murmurs dying on their lips. Alec didn't need to hear them to know what they were saying.
In the great hall, Damien sat at the head of the long table, his fingers steepled in thought. Alec stepped in and bowed, but Damien gestured for him to rise.
"They're whispering about you," Damien said quietly.
"I know."
"They'll stop. Or they'll bleed."
Alec met his prince's gaze. "I can take the rumors. What I can't take is being a liability to you."
Damien's eyes darkened. "You're not. And you never will be."
Later that afternoon, Damien called in the guards stationed outside Seraphina's chambers the night of the incident. He questioned them coldly. Their stories faltered. One claimed Alec had entered; another swore Alec never came near. The inconsistency spoke volumes.
Alec waited outside, tense. When Damien emerged, he simply said, "She's lying. And we'll prove it."
That evening, as dusk fell over the palace, a young servant girl slipped into Alec's path in a quiet corridor. Her hands trembled.
"My lord... I saw her. The princess. She came to your chamber that night," the girl whispered, eyes darting around nervously. "You didn't invite her. I swear it. She threatened me not to speak."
Alec knelt to her level. "You've done the right thing. I promise, no harm will come to you."
He reported to Damien immediately. The prince listened with clenched fists. "Keep her safe. I'll handle Seraphina."
But Seraphina wasn't finished. That night, emboldened by her belief that Damien still desired her, she slipped into his chambers once again. This time, she took it further. She undressed entirely, letting her silken gown fall to the floor, revealing everything.
Damien looked up from the documents on his table, unfazed. His eyes narrowed as he stood slowly.
"What is this?" he asked, voice low.
"You don't have to pretend anymore," Seraphina purred, walking toward him. "I know you want me. Let me show you how a queen should serve her king."
Damien stepped forward, towering over her. "Put your clothes on. And get out. Now."
Seraphina blinked, startled. "But....."
"Get. Out."
His voice dropped like a blade, cold and final. Seraphina stumbled, scooping up her gown and fleeing the room in shame.
The next morning, a new rumor swept through the palace like wildfire. Damien was impotent, she claimed. That was why he hadn't touched any of the princesses. That was why he rejected her.
Maids exchanged glances and giggles in hallways. Guards smirked. Even some lesser nobles whispered behind closed doors.
Caspian stormed into Damien's study later that day, slamming the door behind him. "Do you hear what they're saying?! This madness needs to be crushed. Now."
Damien sat still, his expression unreadable. "Let them talk."
"They question your ability to produce an heir. They mock your manhood."
Damien stood slowly, his voice cold as steel. "Let them laugh. For now. When I am done, not one will dare speak her name without choking on it."
Alec entered soon after, silently handing Damien a folded parchment. It was a list of nobles and servants who had repeated the rumor.
"Shall I silence them?" Alec asked.
Damien shook his head. "No. We don't strike yet. We let the fire spread... so that when we crush it, everyone sees who lit the match."
That night, Damien stood at the high balcony overlooking the courtyard. Below, the palace buzzed with torchlight and low conversations. His gaze was sharp, his silhouette a statue of quiet fury.
Alec approached. "You know she did this to protect her pride."
"She insulted mine."
Alec nodded. "So what happens next?"
Damien's eyes never left the darkness. "She stepped into the lion's den thinking it was a garden. Now, let her learn what wolves do."
And with that, the prince turned and walked inside, the echoes of vengeance trailing behind him.
The palace halls shimmered with tension after the gossip Seraphina spread had begun to seep through every crack of the kingdom. Whispers of Damien's supposed impotence stirred mockery among rival houses and confusion among the citizens. Still, Damien remained calm, his composure like stone. But Prince Caspian had other plans.
Seraphina had grown bolder. After Damien cast her away from his chambers in disgust, she began slipping into Caspian's path. Wearing revealing dresses and speaking sweetly with veiled arrogance, she cornered him in gardens and hallways, fluttering lashes and pressing her hand against his chest like a practiced seductress.
Caspian, ever the strategist, caught on quickly.
One evening, he invited her to the west wing of the palace an older, unused chamber beneath the moonlit balconies. He acted just curious enough to lure her in. As Seraphina stepped into the room, she purred, "Finally, a real prince who sees my worth. Not like your cold-hearted brother."
She tried to wrap her arms around him, whispering, "Wouldn't it be scandalous if the next king wasn't who everyone expected?"
Caspian smirked.
Behind a lattice wall, guards and a few noble witnesses waited silently. At the right moment, Caspian stepped back, his tone changing.
"You forget your place," he said calmly, turning toward the lattice wall and knocking twice.
The wall slid open, and in walked the guards and nobles eyes wide with disdain.
Seraphina froze. Her seductive grin vanished. "W-What is this?"
Damien entered last, his eyes like steel.
"This," he said, voice cold, "is your final performance."
Seraphina stammered, tried to deny it, but the gathered witnesses had heard it all. She trembled as Damien stepped closer.
"You spread lies that I am weak, that I am less than a man. You insulted my guards, tormented my staff, framed my most loyal friend... and now, you try to seduce my brother?"
She dropped to her knees. "I didn't mean to—"
"You meant every word," Damien snapped. "And for that, Seraphina of Velmire, you are stripped of every privilege granted to you by this crown. You will leave these halls tonight—no guards, no escort, no title. You are no longer welcome in Eldwain."
King Lucian, standing just behind Damien, lifted his hand.
" You're to never step foot inside this walls again" he said, voice laced with fury.
Humiliated, Seraphina sobbed as she was dragged away, her golden slippers scraping the marble. The halls that once echoed her arrogance now held only shame. Gossip shifted again this time, against her. Nobles learned to tread carefully.
That night, the storm passed. The halls grew quiet again. Damien stood by the window of his private chamber, wine untouched in his hand. Alec entered silently.
"She's gone," Alec whispered.
"Finally."
There was a pause. The tension between them, always there, simmered under the surface.
Damien turned around, studying Alec in the firelight. "You stayed with me through every rumor. Every shadow. Every storm."
Alec's lips curled slightly. "Where else would I go?"
"Come here," Damien said softly.
Alec stepped forward. Damien set the wine aside, reaching out to touch Alec's cheek. Their eyes locked.
The kiss came slowly, but when it came, it was desperate like years of silence breaking all at once. Damien pulled Alec closer, hands tangled in his dark hair. Alec melted into him, heart pounding.
Clothes fell to the floor piece by piece. The fire cast golden hues on their bare skin, flickering like the storm that had brewed for so long.
Damien kissed down Alec's neck, his fingers tracing the curve of Alec's spine. Alec gasped softly as Damien lifted him onto the bed, their bodies tangling in the sheets.
It wasn't just passion. It was worship.
Damien's touch was slow, reverent, as if memorizing every inch. Alec clutched the sheets, moaning his name, legs wrapped tightly around his waist.
"You're mine," Damien growled, voice thick with emotion.
"I always was," Alec whispered, eyes glassy.
Their rhythm matched the thrum of their hearts, faster, deeper, until the whole room felt like it was burning. Alec cried out beneath him, and Damien kissed him fiercely, devouring every sound, every movement, like they could never be torn apart.
When it was over, their bodies lay tangled, slick with sweat, breathless, foreheads pressed together.
Damien brushed a strand of hair from Alec's face. "Be mine," he whispered. "Not just like this. Be my boyfriend. For now… let's keep it between us."
Alec smiled faintly. "In secret?"
"For now," Damien repeated, "until the world can handle it."
Alec kissed him softly. "Then I'm yours."
The fire dimmed, the night deepened, and the world outside quieted but inside, a new truth had ignited.
And neither of them would ever be the same again.