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REONE
He strode into the council chamber, and every head immediately turned toward him.
Commander Varek smirked. "Late for the first time? Feeling all right, Lieutenant?"
Slightly embarrassed, Reone rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry. Got held up."
Across the table, Rhys shot him an amused look.
Varek cleared his throat. "Now that everyone's finally here, shall we begin?"
Nods and murmurs of agreement filled the room.
They wasted no time.
The meeting was yet another review of the security plan for Rhys and Mia's wedding—for what felt like the tenth time. Reone insisted on checking every detail again.
Rhys sighed, smiling. "Aren't you satisfied, Reone? You've gone over this plan more times than Mia's gone over her vows."
Reone shot him a look. "Unlike your vows, Rhys, I can't afford to miss a detail."
"So dramatic," Rhys leaned back, teasing.
"So reckless," Reone countered dryly.
"Yeah, you're one to talk."
"Everything looks in order to me. I'd say we can wrap this up," Varek cut in, ending the back-and-forth.
Reone sighed but didn't object.
"Agreed," Rhys said firmly. "Meeting dismissed."
Everyone filed out until only Rhys, Reone, and Varek remained.
Reone couldn't help but worry. The weight of responsibility sat heavy on his mind.
"As your best man, I have to say—I have a bad feeling about this," Reone said immediately. "It's too risky to hold the ceremony while Damon's still active."
Rhys's tone was calm but firm. "Nothing's stopping me from marrying Mia. I've waited long enough."
"But it's risky—for both of you," Reone pressed.
"That's why I have you, Lieutenant," Rhys replied with a grin. "But do try to relax."
"Relax…" Reone muttered.
"Yeah," Rhys chuckled. "It's a wedding, not a war."
Reone narrowed his eyes at this, seeing the worry beneath Rhys's calm words.
"You don't really believe that," Reone said flatly.
Varek interjected, trying to ease the tension. "Reone, Rhys is the King. It's his decision. If he wants to get married now—"
"Fine," Reone said with a shrug. "But don't say I didn't warn you."
"Noted," Rhys replied, smiling. Then his grin turned sly. "Now tell me—why were you really late?"
Reone cleared his throat, avoiding his gaze. "I had… an errand."
Rhys leaned forward, smirking. "That's one of the worst lies I've ever heard. I'm disappointed in you. You ran into her, didn't you?"
Reone stiffened. "…Her?"
"I'm talking about a certain musically gifted Sylph," Rhys said knowingly. "Mia told me that Lyrian arrived tonight."
Reone didn't bother denying it. "We said hi."
Rhys laughed. "I knew it!"
Varek looked up from the maps. "What are you two talking about?"
Rhys grinned. "Reone's ex—Lyrian. She's here—
and he's losing his mind."
"It's not like that," Reone said quickly, tone clipped. "And I'm perfectly clear-headed."
"More like thick-headed," Rhys muttered, earning an annoyed look.
"You should make your move," Varek said with a small smile. "She sounds special."
"She is," Reone blurted out—too quickly. He stiffened, clearing his throat and correcting himself. "I mean… she was."
He exhaled sharply, his eyes dropping to the floor. "It was years ago, and it didn't end well. She broke up with me."
The silence that followed was heavy—thick with empathy, sympathy, pity. Reone could feel all of it from them, pressing against his skin, and he hated it.
Hated even more that he kept going.
"I'm sure Lyrian's already with someone else," he muttered, each word landing heavier than the last. "You know… seeing as how amazing she is. And, well… a global sensation."
Another beat of silence. Too long. Too aware of his feelings.
Realizing exactly how exposed he'd just made himself, Reone looked away in embarrasment, heat crawling up his neck and settling in the tips of his ears.
Rhys grinned mischievously. "Mia tells me she's very much single."
Reone sighed, fighting a pleased smile. "Can we focus on your wedding before you begin fixing my love life too?"
"Why not do both?" Rhys said, half teasing. "No reason we can't both be happy."
Reone shook his head. "You're impossible."
A messenger then arrived, bowing. "Your Majesty, Princess Mia requests your presence regarding your maritals."
"You should go," Reone said. "Before the bridezilla drags you out herself."
Rhys shot a mock glare at him, but he was already making his way out of the room.
"Join me for a drink in my room when you're done being paranoid," the guy said to Reone before exiting.
Once he was alone with Varek, he felt the older guy studying him quietly.
"You're staring," Reone said warily.
The older man smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You've come a long way, Reone. From the reckless cadet from Arcannum… to this. And I'm proud of you. But I wish you'd consider a life outside duty."
Reone arched a brow. "That's rich—coming from someone who still lives for his job. You're ancient and still haven't retired."
Varek chuckled, squeezing his shoulder. "Ancient, maybe. But not weak."
Reone grimaced faintly, a pained smile forming.
Varek's tone softened. "I think of you as a son. That's why I'm saying this—don't make the mistakes I did. Life can't be only duty."
Reone nodded slowly. He was currently content with his romance-free life but he knew better than to ignore Varek who was endlessly wise and always trying to look out for him.
Reone thought of him like as the Father he never had.
"Okay, Varek. I'll… think about it."
"And maybe ask that Lyrian girl out while you're at it?" Varek added slyly.
Reone smirked. "Don't push it, old man."
Varek laughed. "Fine.Anwy, big day tomorrow—you should get rest."
"I will," Reone lied.
They both knew he'd spend the night double-checking the perimeter.
At the door, Varek paused. "Oh, and your father reached out again. He keeps trying to use his influence to get me to convince you to talk to him."
Reone's jaw tightened. "Typical. Sorry he's bothering you. I wish he'd take the hint."
"I can handle it. And he's just a man trying to reconnect with his son. I can sympathize with that," Varek said quietly.
"Please," Reone muttered. "He just wants someone to take care of his precious empire after him."
"Maybe," Varek admitted. "Or maybe he's changed."
Reone's fists clenched. His father hadn't changed. Not now. Not ever. And Reone wasn't sure he wanted to have anything to do with him. The childhood scars he gave him still ran deep.
"Varek," he said evenly, "this is between me and him. Don't interfere."
"Reone," Varek said softly, "if you don't learn to let things go, you'll never move on."
Reone stayed silent. There were some things that even Varek couldn't sway him on.
With a resigned sigh, Varek opened the door and left the room.
Reone exhaled; his good mood was ruined now.
His thoughts naturally drifted to… Lyrian, and he suddenly felt better. She was probably asleep. Dreaming. And in the morning, she'd be glowing.
He started to feel something he hadn't felt in a long while—anticipation.
Then he shook it off.
Stop being an idiot, he told himself. Remember how painful it had been when she broke up with you?
Reone stared into space,remembering the days when he found it hard to do anything.
He blinked himself out of it the painful memory.
He resolved to stay away from Lyrian,for his own well being. As it was,he couldnt afford distractions at the wedding ceremony tomorrow. His only focus had to be to protect Rhys and Mia. Nothing else.
But Reone didnt know, danger already lurked amongst them.
*****
Night cloaked the palace in silence.
Through shadowed corridors moved Damon, using his Affinity of Mischief to disguise himself as a guard he killed.
And he had one purpose: kill the false King, Rhys—and claim what he considered his.
Every step brought him closer to the northern suite, where Rhys slept. The wedding preparations had doubled the guards—and the distractions. Perfect chaos.
He would strike tonight. Everything would be over by dawn. Damon was confident in his plan, unlike the allies he had recently gotten himself, who had next to zero faith in him.
But what did they know? Damon thought. They were weak and had proved themselves useless so far.
And they didn't understand that killing Rhys at this time was a genius move.It aas also destiny.
So Damon didn't let them influence him.
He turned a corner, and he saw Rhys's door ahead of him. Before he could take another step, a firm hand caught his shoulder.
"Back to your post, soldier," a sharp voice ordered. "Or you'll be very sorry."
Damon froze. He reminded himself that the glamour concealed his identity—but that voice… Reone, Rhys's guard dog.
Anger coiled in his chest.
Damon wanted to strike, tear the disguise away, crush him with his magic—but not yet. The moment wasnt right.Rhys had to go first.
He forced a salute. "Yes, sir."
Reone gave one last suspicious look before walking on in the direction of Rhys's room.
Damon exhaled slowly and then turned.
He knew that with Reone patrolling like a hawk, striking now would be suicide.
He would wait.
But tomorrow, when the palace drowned in celebration,
when crowds masked his presence—
he would strike.
And not even Reone's vigilance could save the Rhys.