Not finding who he was looking for, he crossed one leg over the other, fingers drumming lightly on the armrest.
Then, without looking at the noble beside him, he said flatly:
"I married Prince Caelum because the stars aligned, the tides rose, and my father handed me over like a well-wrapped gift."
A beat escaped from the noble's heart.
"Do you need more than that?" he added, tone cool.
The noble opened his mouth, then thought better of it. He gave a tight smile and turned away.
Kaelith exhaled slowly and leaned back in his chair.
'Good. One snake down. A ballroom full to go.' He thought to himself, sighing.
Just then the herald's voice rang out once more:
"Announcing Lord Solon Dareth of House Varnesse, Warden of the Eastern Winds."
Heads turned as the tall, golden-haired noble entered the ballroom. His presence was striking—charming like a storm that looks beautiful before it hits.
He wore Red and gold, with a silver hawk-shaped pin on his shoulder, and walked with the confidence of someone who knew exactly how important he was.
Lord Solon strode forward, stopping before the throne. He gave a graceful bow.
"Your Majesty," he said to King Malrec, his tone respectful but not groveling. "It is an honor to be invited."
The king gave him a curt nod, saying nothing.
Solon turned next, eyes scanned around until they landed on Kaelith.
A slow smile curled on his lips.
Without waiting for permission, he crossed the marble floor and stopped right in front of Kaelith.
He took Kaelith's hand delicately and bowed, pressing a kiss to his knuckles.
The gesture drew a few murmurs from watching nobles—and one sharp look from a certain sea prince nearby.
"Your Highness," Solon said with warmth. "You look… alive."
Kaelith blinked. "I usually am."
Solon chuckled, letting go of Kaelith's hand. "I suppose that's true, thanks to the Gods."
He tilted his head, expression playful yet strangely wistful.
"I suppose you don't remember me, Your Highness," Lord Solon said, his voice smooth with a hint of feigned sorrow.
Kaelith narrowed his eyes, wary.
'Great. Another potential pretty face problem.'
"I don't think I do," he replied flatly.
Solon feigned a dramatic sigh, placing a hand over his chest.
"Ouch. You wound me. And after all those letters I never sent."
Kaelith snorted. "Sounds like you're just making things up now."
'Who the fuck is this bastard?'
Solon leaned in slightly, lowering his voice with a grin. "Maybe. Or maybe you've forgotten a lot more than you realize, Prince Kaelith."
Kaelith's amusement faded just a little.
A flicker of something unreadable passed through Solon's eyes… gone in a blink.
Before Kaelith could question it, Solon straightened up again, smiling once more.
"Well, I hope we'll have time to become reacquainted… properly."
He gestured toward the dance floor with an elegant wave. "I hear the first song is cursed. How romantic, don't you think?"
Kaelith raised a brow, his curiosity now piqued. 'Who the hell is this man?' Kaelith screamed in his head.
But before he could reply, another voice broke the air.
"The prince is already spoken for."
Kaelith didn't need to turn around.
He knew that voice.
Low. Cool. Possessive.
Caelum.
'Damn it,' Kaelith groaned inwardly. 'This smug bastard just had to interrupt my moment of fun.'
The words rang out low and sharp—cool and dangerous, slicing clean through the warm hum of the ballroom like a blade unsheathed in silk.
Kaelith turned slightly, unsurprised.
There he was.
Prince Caelum—just a few paces away. His gaze unreadable, his voice calm, yet laced with a quiet, dangerous edge.
But it wasn't just his words.
It was the way he moved—like the sea itself had risen, not with fury, but with purpose.
Steady. Possessive.
As if Kaelith wasn't just standing there…
He was being claimed.
Like Caelum had caught him doing something unforgivable.
Like he belonged to him.
A chill slid down Kaelith's spine.
Not from fear. From something else.
Something he wasn't ready to name.
Caelum wore deep navy robes covered in ocean-like runes.
Moonlight touched his skin, and silver threads in his hair sparkled under the chandeliers. His eyes looked calm, but there was a quiet warning hidden in them.
Solon offered a warm smile.
"Your Highness… there you are. I must've missed you when I arrived."
"You weren't meant to," Caelum replied, his voice smooth but firm. "And yet here you are. Very close to what's mine."
Kaelith blinked. 'What's mine?' His brain short-circuited for a second.
Solon didn't move.
If anything, his smile deepened—amused, bold. "I wasn't aware you'd already claimed him so… intimately."
His eyes flicked over Kaelith with obvious intent.
"Why wouldn't you? Prince Kaelith is a rare kind. If I'd had the opportunity…"
But before Solon could finish that thought, Caelum stepped forward.
No warning. No hesitation.
He raised his hand toward Kaelith—deliberate, commanding.
Cutting Solon off like he didn't exist.
"You owe me a dance, spouse," Caelum said, voice low and edged with possessiveness
Kaelith blinked, caught between the two men. The tension in the air was sharp enough to draw blood.
'These two bastards!' Kaelith screamed inward.
Solon's smile faltered.
Just for a second.
His fingers curled into a quiet fist, but he didn't drop his mask.
He kept smiling… though it no longer reached his eyes.
"So now you remember we're married?" Kaelith asked, arching a brow, tone light but edged—an attempt to defuse the tension before it exploded into something messy and public.
"I never forgot," Caelum replied, voice cool and steady. "But you seemed... preoccupied."
His gaze flicked briefly to Solon, then back to Kaelith, unwavering.
'Ugh, really bastard?' Kaelith asked mentally.
Kaelith let out a quiet breath, somewhere between a sigh and a scoff. "Well, forgive me for being polite to someone who actually talked to me."
"Polite, you say?" Caelum repeated, stepping a fraction closer. "He kissed your hand."
Kaelith met his eyes without flinching. "And you ignored me for an entire ballroom. So, what…. was I supposed to just sit there and glow in silence?"
Without warning, Caelum dropped to one knee.
"What are you…" Kaelith started, eyes widening.
Before he could finish, Caelum took Kaelith's hand and pressed a firm kiss exactly where Solon's lips had touched earlier.
Except Caelum didn't just kiss it—he bit. Just slightly. Enough to leave a faint mark.
Kaelith winced. "Ow… !"
'Did this man just bite me? In public? In front of nobility? Gods above, I've married a dramatic sea-possessed peacock with boundary issues.'
He resisted the urge to yank his hand back, mostly because the entire court was now watching with glittering eyes and half-hidden smirks.
Instead, he forced a gracious smile. "Well. That certainly wasn't in the wedding vows."
Caelum stood up slowly, eyes gleaming. "I changed the rules a little."
Kaelith muttered under his breath, "So we're doing the possessive-husband act now? Great. Can't wait for the possessive-murder part."
"Excuse me, I'll be taking my wife for our first dance," Caelum said plainly, his voice calm but firm, leaving no room for argument.
Before Kaelith could respond—or roll his eyes—Caelum had already taken his hand and pulled him gently but firmly toward the center of the ballroom.
The crowd parted like waves before them, eyes wide and whispers stirring like wind through silk.
Kaelith stumbled a step, then straightened, trying not to trip over his own damn dignity.
'Wife? Really? This stupid fish just called me that?'
'This is it. This is how I die. Not from poison or politics, but from sheer secondhand embarrassment.'