The throne room had never felt this heavy.
A silence had fallen, thick and suffocating. The kind of silence that comes just before the storm — not of war, but of words that could wound deeper than any blade.
Noah stood beside the imperial banner, eyes scanning the nobles assembled before him. His jaw was tight, hands clasped behind his back, but his mind was elsewhere.
He hadn't seen K since last night.
Not since the kiss.
Not since the silence that followed.
And now he had to stand like a proper crown prince while his heart beat wildly beneath layers of silk and pride.
"Prince Noah," came the clipped voice of the Chancellor, "The council awaits your decree regarding the Western border trade."
Noah blinked, then nodded. "Postpone it. I need more time."
The Chancellor frowned. "With respect—"
"Postpone it," Noah said again, colder this time.
His fingers itched. He wished K were here. Not just to argue — but to remind him he wasn't alone in this fight.
Where was he?
