The royal dining hall was cast in the golden glow of morning light filtering through the arched windows. Every member of the imperial family was seated at the long obsidian table—the Emperor at its head, Queen Elendra serene beside him, and the princes and princesses arrayed in silent anticipation. Even Maleus and Rhalia's spouses were present, their expressions curious.
Rythe entered, composed as always, dressed in the black and silver of his station. There was no trace of the weariness of travel from the western border, no flicker of the storm quietly raging behind his eyes. He bowed, then took his seat without a word.
The Emperor's gaze settled on him.
"Rythe," he said, his voice deep and clear. "Your emissary has returned."
Rythe gave a subtle nod, his tone respectful. "Yes, Father."
The Emperor looked around the table, pausing briefly as if to remind everyone of the gravity of what he was about to say.
"Aurean, as your emissary, has secured a partnership with the Empire of Virelia."
Murmurs of acknowledgment rippled quietly.
"Ardan and Virelia are now official trade partners. This is no small feat. Our borders will welcome Virelia's goods, and in return, Ardan will export steel, spices, and alchemical resources."
He leaned back, fingers steepled.
"As part of the agreement, Calatheas has been appointed as Virelia's official representative. Their prince, Kaedor, will come with the first major shipment to negotiate final customs and port distribution."
No one said a word. All eyes subtly flicked to Rythe, waiting—curious.
But Rythe remained still. Impeccable. Unshaken.
"That is good news," Rythe said simply, his voice even. "Aurean served the empire well."
There was a quiet clink of cutlery. The Queen nodded in agreement.
"Indeed, he did," she said with a composed smile. "His return brought… surprises."
Still, Rythe's expression did not change.
Seeing no reaction, the Emperor simply raised his cup.
"To alliances that serve the realm."
"To alliances," the family echoed.
And they all dined in peace, though not in comfort. For no one dared ask what Rythe truly thought. No one dared speak the name that lingered like perfume in the air.
Aurean.
Not while Rythe sat at the table.
And Rythe?
He didn't taste a single bite of his food.
The sun was beginning to set in the sky when Cale returned from the estate. The air in Rythe's quarters was still, the crackle of the fireplace the only sound that greeted him.
Rythe sat behind his desk, reading over dispatches from the western outposts. But even Cale could tell he wasn't truly reading—just staring through the pages.
Cale bowed low.
"I've returned from Lord Aurean's estate, Your Highness."
Rythe didn't look up.
"Did he give you the message?"
Cale hesitated.
"No, Your Highness. He said he would only deliver it in person."
The room fell into silence.
Rythe slowly set the dispatch down, fingers curling once over its edge. His expression remained composed, but the small signs were there—tightness around the mouth, a flicker in his eyes, a breath caught too long.
"Of course he did."
His voice was low. Tired.
Cale shifted, uncertain. Then, softly, he added:
"He seemed surprised that I was a knight… that I serve you."
That made Rythe glance up. A shadow of something unreadable passed through his gaze.
"He wouldn't have known. When he left, none of this had begun."
"He asked if you were busy," Cale added carefully, "but I didn't know how to answer."
Rythe leaned back in his chair and looked away toward the window. The orange light of dusk bathed the room, casting long shadows across the floor.
He exhaled deeply, then stood and walked to the window.
"Did he look well?" Rythe asked, not turning around.
Cale blinked, then nodded.
"He did. Healthy and strong. But… also gentle."
Rythe closed his eyes.
Stronger. Gentler.
Words that should comfort him—but all they did was remind him how deep the damage he caused.
"You said he'll deliver the message in person?"
Cale stepped forward.
Yes, Your Highness.
Rythe's jaw clenched.
Then, softly—resignedly—he said:
"He shouldn't."
After a long moment, Rythe turned back to him.
"Thank you, Cale. That will be all."
The young omega bowed and left.
And Rythe remained at the window, eyes on the horizon, body still—
As if trying not to chase a scent that had already disappeared on the wind.