The warmth of the banquet hall hit Soren first. It felt suffocating after the cold terrace air. Rihaan followed him in silence, head lowered, his steps hesitant—unsure whether to trust the man walking ahead of him.
Zaphyr stood near the imperial table, speaking with ministers. The moment his gaze fell on the two young men, his expression sharpened.
"Father," Soren said, standing beside him.
Zaphyr narrowed his eyes and leaned down slightly, offering an ear.
"What is it?"
Soren hesitated. "We should go somewhere more private…"
His gaze flicked toward the surrounding ministers.
Zaphyr nodded, understanding it was far too personal to be discussed openly. With a wave of his hand, the ministers bowed and stepped aside.
"So? What is it?" Zaphyr asked again.
Soren inhaled and lifted his gaze to the taller man.
"Crown Prince Rihaan doesn't want this engagement."
The Emperor blinked.
"What?"
"You heard me, Your Imperial Majesty."
