The banquet hall was alive with music, laughter, and the clinking of silver goblets. But to Eden, it all sounded distant, like the hum of an orchestra playing behind a thick curtain of fog. He had been forced to endure the cruel whispers of the court as they mocked him, calling him everything from weak to useless. His blindness was a source of endless amusement for them—an easy target for their barbed words.
Eden's heart still echoed with the insults as he stood at the edge of the room, the weight of the crowd pressing in on him. His hand gripped the smooth marble column beside him, seeking the comfort of something solid in a sea of uncertainty.
But then, through the haze of his emotions, he felt the unmistakable presence of Darian. His steps, always confident and deliberate, cut through the noise. When the prince's voice came, low and soft, it was like the world itself had quieted just for them.
"Eden, it's enough." Darian's voice was filled with an unusual tenderness, a softness Eden rarely heard. "Let's leave this place."
Eden didn't need to ask him to clarify. He had already sensed the anger beneath Darian's calm exterior when the nobles had made their cruel remarks. He knew the prince had heard them—Darian was not blind to the cruelty that had been directed at Eden. What he hadn't expected was that Darian would act on it.
Eden's lips parted as he felt the prince's warm hand gently brush against his arm. "Darian…?"
"I'm taking you to my room," Darian said, his tone firm but somehow comforting. "You don't belong here, not in the midst of all these people. Let's get away from it all."
Eden hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say. He had been so accustomed to solitude, to silence, and to the emotional distance between them. He didn't know what to make of this new side of Darian—the prince who had once held him captive with his power and now spoke with such kindness.
"But the banquet… the nobles…" Eden mumbled, unsure if his words made sense.
"They don't matter," Darian replied, his grip on Eden's arm tightening slightly as he guided him toward the exit. "They don't deserve to be in your presence, Eden."
Eden could hear the sincerity in his voice, but still, doubt lingered in his heart. He had never been treated with such respect in his life. Every interaction he had ever had, whether with his father's allies or others in the palace, had been tinged with condescension or pity. He was the blind omega, a powerless figure meant to be hidden away. To be taken seriously was a luxury he had never experienced.
As Darian led him down the hall, away from the chaos of the banquet, Eden couldn't help but feel a strange sense of vulnerability. They passed through corridors, their footsteps echoing off the stone walls. The closer they got to Darian's chambers, the more Eden could sense the change in the air. This wasn't a space where the prince ruled with his usual icy demeanor. No, this was an intimate room, a private world where the rules were different.
When they finally reached the door to Darian's quarters, the prince paused, his hand lingering on the doorknob. "You're safe here," Darian said softly. "No one will hurt you."
Eden's chest tightened, and he could hear the unspoken promise in those words. There was an authenticity in his voice, one that had not been there before. It was a vulnerable admission that, despite everything that had transpired between them, Darian cared.
Darian opened the door and led Eden inside, the warmth of the room wrapping around them like a blanket. The sounds of the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the quiet between them. The prince's chamber was decorated with elegant, dark furniture and soft tapestries, but it was far more intimate than the cold grandeur of the rest of the palace.
Eden stood still in the center of the room, his blind eyes scanning the space in his own way, through sound and scent. He could smell the faint trace of incense, the musky scent of wood, and the lingering warmth of the fire that crackled in the hearth. It was peaceful here—quiet.
Darian stepped closer, and Eden felt the prince's presence like a weight at his back, gentle but insistent. He didn't speak at first, simply allowing the silence to fill the space between them. Eden's pulse quickened in the quiet, his senses heightened as he stood there, unsure of what came next.
Eden could hear Darian exhale, as though he, too, was taking the time to find the right words. "You're not like them," Darian said, his voice hushed. "You're not like those people in the banquet hall. I shouldn't have let them treat you that way. But I won't let it happen again."
Eden didn't know how to respond. He had grown used to the idea of being invisible, of being something others pitied or mocked. To hear Darian speak to him with such solemnity, such care, made him wonder if there was something he had missed—something about the prince that had been hidden beneath his cold exterior.
"You don't have to say anything," Darian continued, sensing the confusion in Eden's silence. "I just… I needed to say it."
Eden turned slightly toward Darian, his hands moving to find the edges of the prince's clothing, sensing the tension in the air. "Why are you doing this?" Eden's voice was small, unsure. "Why do you care now?"
Darian's gaze softened, his expression darkening with something like regret. He moved forward, stopping just in front of Eden, and placed a hand gently on his shoulder. "Because you deserve more than this… more than what I've given you. You deserve to be treated like a person, not an object or a possession."
Eden's breath caught in his throat. The way Darian spoke, the sincerity in his voice, made it impossible for Eden to hide the emotions stirring within him. It wasn't just about the kindness Darian was showing—it was about the fact that Eden had never felt this level of respect from anyone before. He had spent his life being defined by his blindness, by his weaknesses, but Darian was giving him something different. The prince was offering him a chance to be seen, truly seen, for the first time.
Before Eden could respond, Darian took a step back, as if giving him the space he needed. "Stay here for the night. You don't have to go back to the banquet."
Eden's hands trembled as they rested at his sides. He wasn't sure what to say or how to process this new development. Darian had treated him harshly before, and now he was offering him refuge—an act of kindness that was both overwhelming and confusing. But, for once, Eden didn't feel entirely alone. The walls around his heart, ones he had built out of years of suffering, began to crack, just slightly.
"Thank you," Eden whispered, his voice barely audible.
Darian nodded, his expression unreadable. "It's nothing," he said softly. "Rest, Eden. You don't need to worry about anything right now."
Eden could only nod, still unsure of what to make of the prince's sudden shift. The uncertainty still lingered, but for the first time, Eden felt a spark of something different—something more than just fear or hatred toward Darian.
It was the faintest glimmer of hope.