The palace was silent, the golden light of dusk spilling across the marble floors. Servants moved quietly, their footsteps muffled by the thick carpets. Every corridor seemed alive with shadows, yet none so alive as the space where the Prince lingered, waiting.
Paytai appeared in the doorway of the study, carrying a stack of ledgers, his posture perfect, mask flawless. But even the mask couldn't hide the subtle flutter in his chest as he spotted the Prince watching him.
"You're late," the Prince murmured, his tone soft but commanding.
Paytai's hand froze over the papers. "Your Highness…" he said, bowing slightly, though his eyes betrayed the tension building between them.
The Prince stepped closer, the air thickening. "Not for this," he whispered. His fingers brushed Paytai's hand as he took a ledger, an accidental—or deliberate—touch that made both of them shiver.
Paytai's breath hitched. "We… we shouldn't be here," he murmured, knowing the walls had ears, knowing that every heartbeat they shared in secrecy carried danger.
"And yet we are," the Prince replied, eyes dark, intense. "Because I cannot—will not—ignore this any longer."
Their closeness felt magnetic, like the air itself had changed around them. The Prince's hand lingered on Paytai's arm, tracing a line only he could see, drawing him into the quiet gravity of the room. Paytai tried to resist, tried to step back, but the pull was too strong, and the flicker of a smile tugged at his lips despite the protest rising in his chest.
The Prince's voice lowered, rougher now, urgent: "Do you feel it too? The heat, the tension… the need?"
Paytai's eyes met his, unflinching despite the storm inside him. "I do," he admitted softly, the confession barely audible. "But we cannot—"
The Prince cut him off with a whisper, a touch to his cheek: "We will be careful. Quiet. Secret. Just… mine, for these stolen moments."
For a heartbeat, the world outside disappeared. Every concern, every rule, every expectation faded. Only the two of them remained—hearts pounding, breaths mingling, a hidden flame burning brighter than the candlelight flickering across the room.
They leaned closer, almost touching, the space between them charged and unbearable. Every glance, every brush of skin, every whispered word was a rebellion, a declaration, a secret the palace would never know.
Finally, the Prince rested his forehead against Paytai's, voice hoarse and urgent: "Soon. We cannot stop this fire. Not now. Not ever."
Paytai shivered, lips curling into the faintest smile, trembling with longing and fear. "Soon," he echoed, though neither of them knew exactly when, only that the pull between them had become impossible to deny.
In the quiet of the study, behind locked doors, hidden from the world, a secret had been kindled—a fire that neither duty nor decorum could ever fully extinguish.