Third Person POV
A vibrant and jubilant celebration unfolded across the vast courtyard of Ardentia's royal palace. Lanterns in shades of gold and deep azure illuminated the night, casting warm light over the sea of citizens who had gathered—common folk, warriors, generals, nobles, and royalty—all drawn together for one momentous purpose: to witness the formal presentation of the kingdom's future monarchs, Prince Aurein of Ardentia and Princess Serena of Grition.
It was a night of spectacle and lineage, of pride and promise. Every corner of the courtyard thrummed with anticipation.
Across the grand expanse, the seven armies of Ardentia stood in rigid, flawless formation, each general stationed before their battalion.
Every warrior wore their ceremonial battle attire—dark tunics reinforced with polished leather plating, each piece trimmed with metallic accents matching the colors of their division. Their pauldrons bore the crest of their army, while their cloaks, heavy and disciplined in their fall, fluttered like controlled banners in the wind. Their boots were laced tightly, gleaming with oil, built not only for display, but for battle.
In stark contrast, the seven generals of Ardentia stood out like carved pillars of authority.
Their armor was forged with finer craftsmanship—tempered steel layered with deep royal-blue accents, the unmistakable symbol of Ardentia's high command. Intricate markings adorned their breastplates, ancient etchings that spoke of legacy, rank, and hard-earned victories. Their capes fell longer, more regal, and their presence alone—sharp, composed, and immovable—was enough to hush the murmurs drifting through the courtyard.
But not everyone shared the same sense of discipline.
At the far end of the courtyard, where the banquet tables groaned under the weight of roasted meats and golden pastries, three particularly troublesome warriors had found their own battlefield.
"Ton-Ton, enough! They're going to throw us out if you keep devouring everything! We need to get back before General Voltaire notices we're missing!" Asper whispered sharply, glaring as he tried to drag Ton-Ton away from the food trays.
"Just one more bite. It's delicious," Ton-Ton said, cheeks stuffed with roasted chicken as he reached for another serving.
"And you, Dante—are you planning to take the entire feast home? Can you even carry all of that?" Asper demanded as Dante kept slipping pastries and bread rolls into a cloth pouch.
"Ton-Ton will help me carry it. Right?" Dante said confidently.
"Of course! As long as it's about food," Ton-Ton said between eager bites.
"I swear, if General Voltaire punishes us for this..." Asper muttered, already imagining their doom.
"Oh, stop complaining and help me pack these before someone sees us," Dante hissed, shoving another loaf at him.
Reluctantly, Asper gave up and started helping, all while glancing nervously toward the formation.
Meanwhile, at the forefront of their army, General Voltaire stood in absolute contrast to their chaos.
He stood tall—straight as a blade—his presence alone commanding attention even without uttering a word. His formal armor fit flawlessly over his powerful frame, the steel molded cleanly to his broad chest and shoulders. The plates carried a muted sheen, the kind that belonged to a warrior who had seen real battles, not just ceremonial polish. Deep royal-blue trims traced the armor's edges, marking him instantly as Ardentia's most formidable general.
His cape fell behind him in a heavy, disciplined sweep, its fabric moving with controlled precision—as if even the wind itself respected his boundaries.
His dark hair was brushed neatly upward, accentuating the sharp line of his jaw. Though his expression remained composed, unreadable even, there was an unmistakable intensity in his eyes—cold, focused, unyielding. One look was enough to silence even the rowdiest warrior. There was no need for grandeur; his quiet strength spoke louder than any ornament.
He should have been beside Princess Serena—her personal guard—but tonight protocol demanded that all generals stand with their armies.
Still, General Voltaire kept watch.
He waited for the arrival of the two most important figures of the night—Prince Aurein and Princess Serena—both of whom were under his protection. His responsibility. And should danger arise, should even the slightest threat dare reveal itself, there was no doubt in his mind:
He would not hesitate.
He would reach them first.
He would protect them—no matter the cost.
At the very front of the grand courtyard, elevated above the gathered armies and nobles, sat the three most powerful figures in attendance—those whom everyone, without exception, held in reverence. King Lucen and Queen Crysta of Ardentia, flanked by King Lexor of Grition, awaited the ceremonial arrival of the two young royals who would soon unite their kingdoms: Prince Aurein and Princess Serena.
Meanwhile, among the sea of guests, Rowan drifted effortlessly through the crowd. He smiled warmly at every person he encountered, charming nobles and civilians alike with easy conversation. He seemed at ease—too at ease, perhaps—laughing lightly, offering compliments, and allowing himself to blend in with the lively anticipation that filled the night.
While the outside world buzzed with excitement, the two most important figures of the ceremony remained just beyond the palace doors, waiting for the signal that would cue their grand entrance. But instead of serene cooperation, a heated quarrel simmered between them—one steeped in jealousy, pride, and unspoken tension.
"I see you're wearing my necklace," Serena said sharply, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised in unmistakable accusation.
"What do you mean yours? This is mine. General Voltaire gave it to me. He placed it around my neck himself," Aurein said with a triumphant grin as he displayed the blue crystal pendant with pride.
"That is exactly why I want it! I saw him choose it when we were together. Give it to me!" Serena said as she abruptly seized the pendant, attempting to pull it from Aurein's neck.
"Serena! Stop that!" Aurein said, grabbing her hand in alarm. "If you want one so badly, buy your own necklace and ask General Voltaire to put it on you!"
"No! I want that one because it caught his eye—and he chose it! So it should be mine!" she said, increasingly annoyed as she tugged harder.
"You're going to break it, Serena! Get a hold of yourself!" Aurein said, visibly irritated.
"I will—once I'm the one wearing it!" she said stubbornly.
With one final pull, the delicate silver chain snapped. The pendant slipped from Aurein's neck and struck the marble floor with a soft but devastating sound.
Aurein froze. His breath stopped. His eyes widened in horror.
He immediately fell to his knees, gathering the fallen crystal and the torn chain with trembling hands.
"What have you done, Serena!" he said, voice cracking as he cradled the pendant desperately.
Tears pooled in his eyes. He had promised General Voltaire—sworn to him—that he would never remove the necklace. It had been the first meaningful thing Voltaire had ever given him. He just received it and now it was broken.
"Hmph," Serena muttered, her irritation fading but her pride refusing to yield.
"I made a promise to General Voltaire..." Aurein whispered, the weight of guilt, fear, and disappointment shadowing his features.
"That's what you get for refusing to give me my necklace," Serena said, still defensive.
"What is wrong with you!" Aurein suddenly shouted, rising to his feet with raw, unrestrained fury.
Serena stumbled back, startled. She had never seen him like this—never seen the prince, usually so composed and gentle, burn with real anger.
"You don't understand anything! This necklace is important because it's the first thing he gave me that held meaning!" Aurein said, voice trembling with emotion. "You already have everything—you'll become queen, you'll gain power, you'll get everything you've ever wanted! I never stopped you, I never interfered!"
His chest heaved as he clutched the broken pendant to his heart.
"You mock me, you annoy me, fine. But this—this necklace—Serena, you went too far!" he said, every word cutting sharper than the last.
Serena fell silent. Guilt finally pricked through her pride.
"This necklace may not cost a fortune, but its value is far beyond anything money can buy," Aurein said quietly, pain heavy in his voice.
Serena inhaled deeply, pressing a hand to her chest as her anger dissolved into shame.
She had never seen Aurein lose control like this. He looked wounded—deeply, genuinely wounded.
"I—I didn't mean to," Serena said softly. "Give it to me. I'll have it repaired."
"That's enough, Serena," Aurein said, brow furrowed as he stroked the cracked crystal, trying to steady himself.
A timid voice interrupted them.
"Prince Aurein, Princess Serena..." one of the ceremonial attendants said, bowing awkwardly as though afraid to interrupt the tension. "You are needed in the courtyard. It is time."
Aurein exhaled shakily. He tucked the broken necklace into his pocket, avoiding Serena's gaze.
"Let's go. They're waiting," he said coldly, the anger still simmering beneath his calm tone.
Serena could only nod.
* * *
"I present to you the future sovereigns of Ardentia—Prince Aurein and Princess Serena!" the master of ceremonies announced, voice booming across the courtyard.
Aurein and Serena stepped forward hand in hand, both wearing graceful smiles so practiced, so regal, that no one could have guessed they had just been moments away from tearing each other apart.
The crowd erupted into applause. Their parents rose from their seats, clapping proudly as they watched their children bathed in lantern-light and admiration.
The two royals walked toward the extravagant thrones prepared for them—ornate, towering chairs adorned with carved silver and deep sapphire fabrics.
As they sat, Aurein's eyes searched immediately, urgently.
He found General Voltaire within the formation of soldiers.
Voltaire's face was dark, clouded—his usual stoic calm replaced with something tightly coiled. He had noticed.
He had seen that Aurein wasn't wearing the necklace.
Aurein's heart dropped as he watched Voltaire step away from his position, expression full of restrained displeasure.
Aurein moved, ready to stand and follow him—
—but Serena caught his wrist.
"Where are you going? You can't leave," she whispered.
"Because of you, General Voltaire is angry with me. I need to explain what happened," Aurein said through clenched teeth.
"Aurein, there will be time for that. You cannot walk out in the middle of a ceremony," Serena said. "The kingdom expects to see us together."
Aurein drew a sharp breath—frustrated, helpless, and afraid.
He sank back into his chair, the weight of guilt pressing onto his chest like stone.
He had never felt more trapped.
"For our beloved Prince Aurein and Princess Serena, we present the Moon Dancers, who will perform in your honor!" the master of ceremonies announced proudly.
Aurein's gaze drifted toward the center of the courtyard.
There—gliding through the parted crowd—entered the Moon Dancers.
They were draped in flowing white fabric, thin and feather-light, each layer moving like mist caught in a soft breeze. Their faces were concealed beneath pale veils, as tradition dictated. No one was permitted to see a Moon Dancer's face.
When the music began, they moved as one—fluid, weightless, and entrancing. Every turn, every extension of their arms, sent their garments rippling like water. The crowd fell silent, captivated.
Even Aurein, who moments earlier had been drowning in worry, could not tear his eyes away. Since childhood, he had admired the Moon Dancers—mysterious, elegant, untouchable.
"So these are Ardentia's famous Moon Dancers. They're remarkable," Serena said, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "But... there's something familiar about their movements. Something I learned from my master's training."
Aurein glanced at her, confused. Serena returned the look with a knowing glint.
"Their dance isn't just a dance," she said. "Seems like they're fighting—disguising every strike within soft movements."
Aurein said nothing. She was right.
But he did not reveal their secret.
The Moon Dancers' beauty was only a mask. Beneath their silken veils and delicate grace, they were assassins—lethal, disciplined, and all male despite their feminine attire. Aurein knew this.
And Serena...
Serena was not the fragile princess the world believed her to be.
Hidden beneath her royal poise was a warrior trained in silence and secrecy.
"You would make a fitting Moon Dancer yourself, Aurein," she said.
"Really?" Aurein said, delight flickering through him—before he remembered he was still angry with her. His smile vanished, and he turned back to the dancers.
"Don't be mad at me anymore, Aurein," Serena said softly. "I didn't mean to break your necklace. I'll admit...I was jealous because General Voltaire gave it to you. The moment he put it on me, he told me it didn't suit me. I realized later... he said that because he meant it for you."
Aurein looked at her again.
"So... I'm sorry I ruined it," Serena said quietly.
Aurein sighed deeply. "Next time, don't ever do something like that again. The necklace means a lot to me. It's the reward he spoke about."
"Of course it is," Serena muttered with a pout. "It seems that no matter what I do, he's more drawn to you than to me." Then she straightened her shoulders in determination. "But I won't give up. I'll still make him more interested in me than in you."
"Do whatever you want," Aurein said, focusing once more on the dancers.
"They're incredible, aren't they? Moving so beautifully, almost like women," Serena said. She studied Aurein's transfixed expression. "Do you see yourself in them? You're very focused."
"I don't want to talk about it," Aurein said, not looking at her.
"Well then," Serena said, undeterred, "if you're still refusing to speak to me properly... perhaps, me being a girl of a hundred secrets, I should share one with you. As compensation."
"I don't care about your secrets," Aurein said.
"I believe there's a mole lurking here," Serena whispered.
Aurein's head snapped toward her.
Serena smirked, tilting her head. "I got your attention, didn't I?"
He remained silent, exhaling in frustration, shaking his head before returning his gaze to the performance.
"Not all people here can be trusted, Aurein," she whispered.
"Oh, I know. Especially you," Aurein replied coldly. "You're a cunning and manipulative princess."
"I think I'm exactly the person you should trust," Serena said. "I'm your future queen, after all. And I'm not here just to look beautiful. I intend to protect the fame and fortune tied to this role. Which means, indirectly, I'm protecting you."
"What are you even talking about now?" Aurein said irritably.
"Between the two of us, there is someone here who cannot be trusted," Serena said. "But I won't reveal that person's name yet. I need more evidence. If I tell you now, you might ruin my plan prematurely."
Aurein looked at her, curiosity stirring despite himself.
He knew rebellion brewed beneath the surface of Ardentia. He simply didn't know who fueled it.
"Sometimes, the people closest to us, they are our enemy in disguise." She added.
But now... Serena clearly knew something.
"Just continue playing your innocent prince act," Serena said. "I'll be doing the sneaky work to uncover the mole."
"So we're even now?" she asked. "I told you something important—something that may endanger our kingdom's future."
"Are you saying someone intends to bring down the kingdom my father rules?" Aurein asked seriously.
Serena nodded.
"Don't worry. I'll handle it. No one will suspect a thing. They all think I'm just a sweet, harmless princess with no awareness of the world." She smiled.
"If you learn that person's motive, will you tell me who it is?" Aurein asked.
"Only if you completely hand General Voltaire over to me," Serena teased.
"Forget it. You're hopeless," Aurein said.
"I will tell you, when the time is right." Serena said. She lifted her chin, then leaned in slightly. "Our parents are watching. Smile—quickly. They need to believe we're getting along."
Aurein sighed again.
But he forced a smile—soft, gentle, and perfectly convincing—their entire kingdom unaware that beneath those polite expressions lay broken trust, hidden blades, and a truth that could change everything.
"I am still angry at you, Serena," Aurein said, forcing a strained smile that did nothing to hide the tightness around his eyes.
"I know, I know. Now fix my hair—quick! Pretend you're brushing it aside," Serena whispered urgently.
Aurein let out a long, suffering groan.
But he obeyed.
Serena leaned in. "My turn. Let me fix your hair. And smile a little, would you?" she whispered, speaking to him the way one scolded a stubborn child.
From the outside, the sight of the two young royals—leaning close, adjusting each other's hair, sharing soft smiles—looked tender. Intimate.
Their parents watched, delighted.
The guests whispered, charmed.
No one suspected the truth: the two were barely tolerating each other behind those perfect smiles.
"That's right, Aurein. We must act the part," Serena murmured, her lips barely moving. "We need them to believe we adore each other. If they sense division, especially the mole I mentioned, they will use it to tear us apart." She tightened her grip on his hand. "Now hold my hand with yours. Quickly."
Aurein sighed—but intertwined his fingers with hers.
Meanwhile, at the royal seating beside them...
"Look at our children, speaking so casually. It warms my heart to see them growing closer," King Lucen said to King Lexor and Queen Crysta.
"It seems they are getting along quite well. I am pleased," Queen Crysta said. "Aurein looks very affectionate. Don't you think so, Lucen?"
"Indeed. They are a joy to watch," King Lucen said with pride.
"Serena has always been choosy with men," King Lexor added. "It seems she fancies Prince Aurein. I'm glad she finally chose someone."
The parents watched with contentment, entirely unaware that beneath those honeyed gestures, Aurein and Serena's hidden argument simmered like a quiet storm no one else could detect.
And while Aurein kept up the show—touching her hand, smiling gently—his eyes scanned the courtyard.
General Voltaire was nowhere to be seen.
Aurein slipped his one hand into his pocket, fingers curling tightly around the blue crystal stone—the broken necklace he had sworn to protect.
* * *
When the Moon Dancers' performance concluded, the veiled performers departed in a gentle wave of white mist. As soon as they vanished, Aurein pulled his hand away from Serena's grip with barely disguised urgency.
He shot to his feet.
Serena caught his wrist. "Where do you think you're going, Aurein?"
"I need to find the general. I have to talk to him," Aurein said, already stepping away.
But before he could leave, King Lexor, Queen Crysta, and King Lucen approached him—blocking his path.
"Father, may I excuse myself for a moment?" Aurein asked, tension rippling through him like a tightening bowstring.
"You may not leave yet," King Lucen said gently but firmly. "You must give your message to our guests."
"Can Serena deliver it instead?" Aurein said quickly, eyes darting restlessly across the courtyard, searching for Voltaire.
"Serena will also speak," King Lucen replied, "but I want you to speak first."
Aurein felt his heartbeat slam against his ribcage.
Every second that passed meant Voltaire was growing more upset. More hurt. Aurein could feel it twisting inside him like a blade.
Serena watched him silently for a moment—then stood.
"I would like to speak first, actually," she said. "It will be more meaningful if Aurein's message comes last. It will end the ceremony on a heartfelt note."
"And where are you going, Aurein?" King Lucen asked, suspicion flickering in his tone.
"I—uh..." Aurein faltered. He truly had no excuse that would satisfy his father.
"He feels unwell," Serena said suddenly. "Prince Aurein's stomach hurts. He needs to visit the restroom to feel better."
Aurein stared at her, stunned.
"Serena..." he whispered.
"If that is the case, then very well," King Lucen said at once. "Serena will go first."
"Thank you, King Lucen," Serena said with a graceful smile.
Then she leaned close to Aurein, dropping her sweet demeanor for a heartbeat.
"I'm not helping you because I like you, okay?" she whispered sharply. "I simply feel guilty for what I did earlier. Go. Find General Voltaire. I'll buy you time. After that... he's mine again."
Aurein looked into her eyes—truly looked—and for once, his anger softened.
"Thank you, Serena," he said with a small, genuine smile.
Serena immediately switched back to her gentle public persona.
"Go, Prince Aurein. Please take care of what you must," she said sweetly. "Leave everything to me."
Aurein nodded and slipped away quietly, heart pounding, eager to find Voltaire.
Meanwhile, Serena turned back to face the three ruling monarchs, her smile flawless and composed—hiding her cunning intentions like a dagger beneath silk.
"I shall now give my message to the citizens of Ardentia," Serena said with elegance dripping from every note of her voice.
"Yes, my dear princess. Please speak," King Lexor said proudly.
Serena moved to the center of the stage, her rare white hair shimmering under the lanterns.
In that moment, she looked ethereal—almost otherworldly—like a goddess descending to address mortals.
Her steps were poised. Her aura regal.
No one would ever guess the sharp, ruthless mind hidden behind that angelic facade.
"To the beloved citizens of Ardentia," she began, her voice soft and captivating, "I, Princess Serena of Grition, wish to offer you this message..."
The crowd erupted in applause, enchanted by her presence.
Meanwhile, among the sea of people, Rowan—ever observant—noticed Aurein slipping away in haste.
"Wait a moment. I have something to check," Rowan said to the person beside him.
And he quickly stood, eyes narrowing in quiet intent.
* * *
Aurein's POV
"General Voltaire? Where are you?" I called out as I searched frantically around the palace.
I checked everywhere—the balcony, the banquet hall, the Hall of Thrones, even my own chamber—but he was nowhere in sight.
"Where could you be..." I murmured, anxiety curling tight in my chest.
A thought struck me.
The hut where he usually rests.
Near the training grounds. When he wants to calm down, they said he goes there.
Even though it was late and dangerous to wander alone, I felt a pull to go there. I needed to see him. I needed to speak with him. And I prayed Serena's message would take long enough to buy me time.
Within minutes, I reached the open fields of the training grounds, now silent and abandoned under the pale glow of the moon. Shadows stretched long across the dirt, the wind brushing softly against the tall grass. No warriors. No torches.
Just me.
"General Voltaire? Are you here?" I called out, my voice careful, echoing faintly. "I want to talk to you. There's something I need to tell you."
Silence answered me.
I approached his hut and entered.
Empty.
I let out a long breath, frustration mingled with fear.
"Where are you, General?" I whispered. "Where did you go?"
Then— a rustle.
Close. Too close.
I turned sharply.
"General Voltaire? Is that you?" I asked, stepping outside and scanning the darkness.
Another rustle.
This time from the bushes.
My heart jumped. Instinct, panic, and desperation collided. I darted back inside the hut, grabbed a sword—heavier than I expected—and stepped out again, gripping it tightly even as my hands trembled.
"Who's there?" I called out, forcing my voice to stay steady. "Show yourself."
The bushes shifted.
Something moved.
I stepped forward slowly, every muscle in my body coiled with tension.
"Who are you..." I said, tightening my grip on the sword as my heart hammered violently.
The bush slightly parted—
—and a rabbit hopped out.
"A—ah!" I yelped in shock, stumbling backward. The sword slipped from my grasp.
And before I could fall, a strong arm caught me by the waist.
I turned—and froze.
"Why did you come here?"
General Voltaire asked, his voice low and angry, a deep line carved between his brows.
"General?" I said, breathless.
He steadied me, then bent to pick up the fallen sword.
"You should be at the celebration," he said, irritation sharp in his tone. "Why are you here?"
"Because I wanted to talk to you," I said. "I saw you leave when Serena and I entered the palace courtyard. I know you noticed I wasn't wearing the necklace. I looked for you everywhere inside the palace but, you weren't there. So, I came to look for you here in your hut."
"What if I wasn't around? It's dangerous at this hour—especially when my warriors are all stationed elsewhere. What if that rustle wasn't a rabbit? What if it was an enemy? Who would save you?" He asked angrily
"M–me," I said weakly. "I would save myself. I know how to use the sword... a little bit."
"You could barely stay on your feet just now," he said, glaring at me. "How can you claim you can protect yourself?"
"I—I was startled! I didn't expect it!" I protested.
"And if it were an enemy, would you tell them the same thing? That you 'didn't expect it'?" he asked, one eyebrow raised in disdain—like he couldn't help but ridicule me.
I clenched my fists. "Did you just arrive?"
"I've been following you for a while, when I saw you leaving the palace." he said calmly. "I simply didn't reveal myself yet."
"You let me wander here alone?" I snapped.
"That is your fault," he said bluntly.
"Let's forget about that!" I said, and quickly pulled the necklace from my pocket—showing him the torn chain and the blue crystal stone. "This is why I wasn't wearing it. Before Serena and I appeared at the courtyard, we argued. She tried to take the necklace from me, saying it should have been hers. I stopped her, but she insisted... until it snapped."
I noticed his expression soften—just barely—but General Voltaire still kept his scowl firmly in place, as though refusing to let me off that easily.
"I'm sorry, General Voltaire," I said. "I know I promised I wouldn't take it off, but... I didn't mean for it to happen. I'll have it repaired so I can wear it again."
He exhaled a long breath and stepped inside his hut.
"General?" I called, about to follow when his voice stopped me.
"Wait out there. I'll be out shortly," he said.
"Okay."
It was only a moment before he stepped back outside, standing squarely before me.
"Give me the blue crystal stone," he said, holding out his hand, palm open.
"Mm!" I nodded quickly. I placed the crystal gently onto his palm, watching the way his fingers curled protectively around it.
He pulled out a thin cord—simple, sturdy—and began working on my necklace with practiced precision.
"It could still break," General Voltaire said, his tone firm yet careful as his focus stayed on the task. "But this time, I want you to take care of it, Prince Aurein."
"I will, General Voltaire," I said softly with a smile, unable to hide the warmth rising in my chest as I looked at his face—so close under the moonlight.
"I'll overlook it this time," he said. "I know Princess Serena can be... impulsive. Especially when she wants something."
"So you believe me now—that she was just acting?" I asked.
"I already knew," he said calmly. "But she is a princess. There are limits to what I can say and do in front of her. I must fulfill my responsibilities to her."
"Then why aren't you doing your responsibilities when you are with me? You don't even try to be formal to me as you are with everybody." I muttered, pouting. "Hmph."
"You already know my answer to that. And I am fulfilling my responsibility to you as well," he said, finally meeting my eyes—truly meeting them. His voice softened, low and steady, "I always make sure you are safe, Prince Aurein."
I could no longer speak.
Something warm bloomed inside me—too warm, too light, too frighteningly real. The moonlight washed over his features, sharpening every line of his jaw, deepening every shadow, making him appear impossibly striking. As though in this entire world, he alone stood out, the most captivating presence I had ever seen.
He wasn't smiling. His expression stayed stern, unreadable.
But I could feel it—his concern. His sincerity.
At least... I hoped I was right.
I hoped I wasn't the only one feeling this way.
A few seconds later, he tightened the final knot on the cord and held the necklace up for me to see. Even though it was no longer the original chain—just a simple strand of cord now—it felt far more meaningful because he was the one who fixed it.
Then he did something I did not expect.
Standing in front of me, General Voltaire reached out with both hands and placed the newly mended necklace around my neck himself.
His arms came around me—broad, strong, enveloping me for the briefest moment like an embrace.
I couldn't look away from him.
Not when he was this close.
Not when his focus was entirely on me.
General Voltaire... I can't hold myself back anymore.
"There," he said quietly when he finished. "It's on you now, Prince Aurein."
Forgive me for what I'm about to do.
"Make sure you never lose it again. Promise me you won't let this one get destroyed. Is that clear—"
He stopped mid-sentence.
Because I seized the moment.
I leaned in and pressed my lips to his.
The warmth of him—the heat I had been yearning for—surged through me in an instant. My heart thrashed wildly, as though it meant to escape my chest. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think, could only feel the reckless, overwhelming need that had been building inside me for so long.
General Voltaire's hands clamped around my arms, gripping tightly—and then—he shifted me aside, guiding me back just far enough to create space between us.
His touch never left my skin, but the distance said everything he refused to.
Shock flickered through his eyes as he stared at me, utterly speechless.
His gaze bore into mine—intense, unreadable, a storm I couldn't decipher no matter how hard I tried.
"General Voltaire..." I whispered. "I like you."
He only stared.
End of Chapter 20