The prince paced inside the dimly lit room, his steps light but restless. The silence pressed in around him, thick like the sealed energy he carried within. Reaching the small table, he lifted the water jug and tilted it only to see nothing fall.
Not a drop.
He let out a quiet sigh, brushing a few strands of loose hair from his face.
"Right. No water. Seven days and seven nights."
Turning to return to his bed, suddenly his body paused mid-step.
Something was off.
He didn't move, but something in the stillness had shifted. Before a full thought could form, a sharp metallic sound sliced through the air. Without turning, he raised two fingers and caught a thin, needle-like blade that had been aimed at him. The air stirred from the force of it, tugging at the edges of his robe.
"Who?"
No answer. The silence deepened And then, everything snapped.
A sharp whistle filled the room as multiple spears came flying shot toward him from every angle, The prince moved without hesitation, ducking, sidestepping, and spinning in smooth, effortless motions. Each weapon missed by inches, slamming into the walls with solid thuds. Dust fell from the cracks, and for a few seconds, the only thing that moved was the air itself. When the last one clattered down behind him, the prince casually dusted his shoulder.
And then—
Clap. Clap. Clap.
Slow, smug applause echoed through the chamber.
"I was wondering when you'd show up," the prince muttered, turning toward the sound. "Are you satisfied now?" A familiar voice replied, "As expected of the crown prince but…."
The man raised a hand and, with a sudden pulse of energy, a long glowing spear and blue aura forming around it like lightning. He took a step back, spinning once and then hurled the spear toward him. As it tore through the air, the blue aura intensified, suddenly bursting into a furious red.
The prince's expression shifted. He crossed his arms before him, forming a shield just in time. The moment of impact sent a shockwave across the room. His robe flared, his feet dragged one step back from the force and With a flick of energy, the prince finally pushed it back.
BOOM.
The attacker was launched backward, slamming into the wall. The room went quiet again, except for the echo of crumbling dust. The prince sighed and walked forward, extending a hand.
"Now will you stop… my friend?"
The man, still sitting against the wall, looked up and smirked. He grabbed the prince's hand and got up, only to pull him into a tight hug nearly knocking the prince's balance.
"I've missed this!"
The prince didn't return the hug. "You always have strange ways of showing it."
They stood like that for a moment until the prince finally stepped back and asked, "Now, how exactly did you get inside?"
Still grinning, the man strolled over to the bed and flopped down, one arm tucked behind his head "By the way, you should exchange this mattress with mine. Too soft. I was able to sleep comfortably on it."
The prince let out a quiet sigh and walked over to him, "How did you even get in? There are guards outside. Aren't you least bit worried you might get punished too?"
The man grinned wider, rolling onto his side like a mischievous cat , "Oh, that? I already knew what your punishment would be… so I simply hid in your room before you even got here."
The prince tilted his head slightly. "And how exactly did you know that?"
The man sat up, smirking like he'd been waiting to say it all day. "Because I was the one who suggested it to Uncle in the first place."
The prince narrowed his head slightly. "Daita….Did you really?"
Daita nodded with a dramatic sigh. "He was furious, I swear. He looked ready to have you chained to the peak of Mount Thousand-Thunder, with nothing but eternal lightning strikes for company—for a whole month."
"Really?"
"Your Highness, I'm serious!" Daita leaned forward, pressing a hand to his chest. "I couldn't survive another whole month without your company. So I suggested this instead. Seven days is… manageable."
The room fell into a brief, weighted silence.
Then Daita stiffened, as if struck by a thought. "Ah—right!" He reached into his sleeve and produced a small, cloth-wrapped bundle. "Here."
He placed it into the prince's palm.
The prince unwrapped it slowly. A pearl hairpin lay within, its surface catching the light softly. His fingers traced along it, unhurried, almost reverent.
Daita watched him closely, one brow lifting in quiet curiosity.
"You never told me why you asked me to search for this," Daita went on, clicking his tongue. "Do you know how long it took? I had to send my juniors personally. They spent over six months running across the empire just to track it down."
The prince didn't reply. He simply closed his hand around the hairpin, fingers curling as if afraid it might vanish.
Daita leaned back on his hands, studying him, then broke into a teasing grin. "Don't tell me…" His eyes gleamed. "You're secretly in love with some girl and didn't even bother telling your best friend?"
The prince's shoulders shifted slightly, a near-scoff. He tilted his head just enough in Daita's direction.
"I should be asking you that," he said calmly. "How many engagement invitations did you dodge this month? And how many young maidens' hearts did you break?"
"Seventeen," Daita replied without a hint of shame, flashing a bright grin.
"That's your current age," the prince scoffed dryly.
"But that's not the point," Daita went on, leaning closer. "Are you really not going to tell me who it's for?" He tapped his chin, pretending to ponder. "Hmm… a secret lover from the last festival? A palace maid? Or maybe that girl who threw roses at you last spring?"
"No."
"That no was way too fast," Daita said, his grin widening. "You're definitely hiding something—or someone."
"Daita, don't you have someone else to flirt with?" the prince asked flatly.
"There's no one else locked in a room with me right now," Daita replied, lifting a brow. "So you'll just have to suffer." Then his grin softened—just a little. "Still, I'll keep an eye on you. Because if the emotionally constipated Crown Prince has finally fallen in love, it could very well affect the future of Shenghara."
"And how exactly would it affect the future?" the prince asked coolly.
"How wouldn't it?" Daita said at once. "What if you run off with this secret lover and abandon everything? I can't allow that." He leaned closer, dropping his voice conspiratorially. "Also, I don't trust your taste. You'd probably fall for the worst possible person."
The prince let out a short huff. "Really? Coming from the man who's promised marriage to almost every nobleman's daughter in the capital?"
"Promises are just fancy words," Daita shrugged. "Besides, if you really ask me about my type—I'd say someone quiet. Elegant. Strong, like me, but not stubborn. And most importantly," he added gravely, "someone who doesn't create chaos wherever she walks."
The prince gave him a long, weighing sigh, shaking his head.
"You should just marry a statue."
Daita gasped, clutching his chest. "A statue? Are you saying I deserve someone made of stone?"
"You said quiet, strong, and zero chaos," the prince replied evenly. "That's essentially a garden statue."
"…A garden statue," Daita repeated, staring into the distance, thoroughly offended.
The prince sighed. "Don't worry. I'm kidding."
Daita immediately waved it off. "I don't care about the joke. But if you're telling me to marry a garden statue, then fine. I'll happily marry one."
"Oh really?" the prince raised a brow. "Then you'd better start searching for the best garden statue in the empire."
Daita grinned. "Why search when there's already a perfect one in the palace?"
The prince paused.
"And not just anywhere," Daita continued cheerfully. "It's in your personal garden."
The prince stopped cold and slowly turned to him. "No. You do not get to marry that."
Daita's eyes widened in mock shock. "Woah. Did I just witness His Highness being possessive?" He leaned in, smirking. "If you're like this over a precious stone statue, I wonder how you'd react if I said I'd marry your secret lover instead?"
"In your dreams," the prince replied flatly.
He lay back on the bed, clearly done with the conversation—only for Daita to pounce on him, wrapping his arms around him like a needy cat seeking warmth.
"There, there," Daita murmured smugly. "Don't be so serious. I'm kidding. Besides, you know I'd be the first to help you escape with your lover—if you actually have one. After all, who in this world is more eager to see you married than me?"
"Didn't you say it would affect the future of the empire?"
"That's only half the truth," Daita said lightly. "What'll really affect the empire is if you don't find yourself a woman soon and keep walking that impossible cultivation path of yours."
The prince didn't answer.
Daita sighed, his tone softening for a rare moment. "I still wish I'd stopped you back then… helped you choose a path like mine. I hate that you gave up every heavenly privilege you could've enjoyed and chose to live like—"
"Enough," the prince snapped. "Get off my bed. You're too clingy."
He kicked Daita off without ceremony.
"Oof—!" Daita hit the floor and groaned, shaking his fist dramatically. "Just wait! One day I'll take revenge for this humiliation!"
The prince turned away, pretending not to hear him.