Riven's eyes fluttered open, greeted by the soft, golden light of dawn. A genuine, almost blinding smile stretched across his face. Today was the day. He just knew it. He was absolutely convinced that before the morning was over, Vaelorian would return, a little tired maybe, but entirely his again. The last few days of him going back and forth had been unbearable, but they were over now.
A soft knock preceded a servant entering with a silver tray filled with a lavish breakfast—fresh fruit, warm rolls, and a steaming pot of spiced tea. But tucked amongst the silverware, like an unwelcome serpent, was the morning Imperial Gazette.
Riven reached for it idly, intending to skim the news. He unfolded it, and the world seemed to stop. Printed in a monstrous, bold font, stark black against white, was the headline that felt less like news and more like a physical, blow to the gut:
CROWN PRINCE VAELORIAN'S GRAND ANNOUNCEMENT: ENGAGED TO PRINCESS LYRA OF THE SORVERIGEN EMPIRE! ROYAL WEDDING SET FOR THE WINTER SOLSTICE.
Riven's breath hitched, a sharp, ragged sound that echoed in the sudden, terrifying silence. The paper slipped from his numb fingers, fluttering down to the silk rug.
Engaged?
A raw, guttural sound clawed its way up his throat. Vaelorian is engaged? The room began to spin. He staggered back, his hand flying to his chest as if to physically hold his heart inside. When did this happen? This has to be mistake. Vaelorian was here—in his bed, in this home—just yesterday. He kissed him. He told him he loved him! This is some twisted noble's joke, right? It has to be a lie. How? Every memory of their kisses, each time they made love, their shared moments of vulnerability, flashed before him—suddenly tainted, cheapened, lies.
A cold, frantic wave of denial washed over him. "No, no, no, no! This is a fucking lie!" Riven began to pace, his eyes wide and wild.
"It has to be! A terrible political stunt! Vaelorian wouldn't—he couldn't do this! Not after everything!" He grabbed a ceramic vase from a nearby table, his fingers digging into the delicate surface. "He promised me. He fucking promised!" The vase met the stone hearth with a deafening smash, shattering into a hundred sharp pieces, mirroring the chaos in his heart.
Meanwhile, across the capital, within the Imperial Palace, Crown Prince Vaelorian was also staring at the same horrifying headline, the Imperial Gazette clutched so tightly his knuckles were white.
His stomach plummeted. A sickening realization hit him with the force of a battering ram: If the news is out, that means everyone in the empire has seen it...which means Riven has seen it too.
"No, no, no," Vaelorian muttered, his voice hoarse, shaking his head. "I needed more time. I needed to tell him myself." He spun toward Sir Eryndor, his eyes burning with urgency. "Eryndor, I need you to keep the guards busy. I have to go to Riven," Vaelorian commanded, already shrugging out of his night robe.
Sir Eryndor remained perfectly still. "Your Highness, with all due respect, that is an exceedingly bad idea," he stated, his voice low and firm. "To leave the palace walls right after a front-page announcement of your engagement? The political fallout if you are seen elsewhere will be monumental."
Vaelorian looked at him, his composure gone. "Do you think I have time for protocol? Riven thinks I've betrayed him! I don't care about political fallout right now, Eryndor. I only care about him. I'm leaving, with or without you." he insisted,putting on clothes.
Sir Eryndor sighed, recognizing the unbreakable will of the Prince when he was protecting Riven. "Very well. Then I am coming with you. But you must be quick." the older man said preparing for teleportation.
Vaelorian's mind was racing through a thousand futile ways to explain the inexplicable as they slipped into Riven's outer sitting room. The sight that greeted Vaelorian was devastating: a scene of furious wreckage. A fine, hand-painted screen was toppled, a chair was overturned, and the floor was littered with the remnants of the shattered vase. It was a scene of utter, furious wreckage.
In the middle of this chaos, Vaelorian found Riven, breathing heavily, his back to the door. Riven heard the door open and spun around, his face a horrifying mask of anguish and fury, his cheeks wet with silent tears.
The instant his eyes locked on Vaelorian, the storm broke loose. He lunged forward, closing the distance between them in two furious strides, his hands balled into fists.
"It's true? What they wrote on the papers?" Riven's voice was a raw, shaking shriek of pure pain.
Sir Eryndor gave a curt bow to Riven before excusing himself. He slipped out, closing the door on the impending collision.
Vaelorian saw the sheer devastation in Riven's eyes, and his courage failed him.
"Yes, it is, but—"
"Did you know before we left the camp?" Riven cut him off with a deafening roar. His chest heaved, his eyes blazing red, fixed on Vaelorian like a predator.
Vaelorian took a shaky breath, his own eyes filling with tears. Tell him the truth. Just tell him.
"I asked you a fucking question, Your Highness!" Riven said, his words delivered through gritted teeth, dripping with bitter contempt for the title.
Vaelorian closed his eyes for a second, then met Riven's gaze. "Yes. Yes, I did," he replied, his voice barely a trembling whisper.
The air rushed out of Riven's lungs in a violent expulsion. Then, he laughed. The sound was humorless, harsh, and utterly bitter, a sound that clawed at Vaelorian's soul. He felt a dizzying surge of claustrophobia, like the elegant, suffocating walls of the room were collapsing inward just for him.
"You fucking asshole! I knew you would do something like this!" Riven yelled, stumbling back as fresh, hot tears streamed down his cheeks. He gripped a handful of his hair, pulling on it in self-directed rage. "Fuck! I'm so stupid!" he spat at the floor. He dropped his voice, talking to himself. "Why did I allow myself to fall for someone like this? Why did he? I guess we're both stupid." The realization that the owner of this body, and his own soul trapped here, had fallen for someone like this made the agony twice as sharp.
"Riven, my love. Please, you must listen to me. I was going to tell you the truth, I swear, but my father—" Vaelorian began, taking a cautious step forward. Riven snapped his head up, his eyes a chilling, hard glare that stopped Vaelorian mid-stride.
"No! I've had just enough! That's all I ever do, isn't it?" he said, his voice laced with venom. "You, the perfect Prince, tell me, the lowly Lord, to behave, listen to instructions, don't say bad words, blah, blah, blah. For once in my life, I actually thought I found someone real. That people are not all the same. But you know what? It doesn't matter the world or the earth, people are all the same. Traitors. Liars."
"My love, please, it's not what you think. My father—" Vaelorian tried to interject, his own tears beginning to fall.
"No! Don't you fucking call me that." Riven's scream cut him off yet again, the sheer force of it shattering the last remnants of Vaelorian's hope.
Their eyes met, and for a fleeting second, Riven almost faltered, seeing the devastated, broken look on the older boy's face. He looks truly wretched. But Riven violently shook his head, focusing on the pain in his own chest. This is not the time to let his emotions get in the way of rational thinking. This is not the time for pity.
"You know, I've been thinking about what to ask for ever since you gave me the wish card..." Riven began, his voice dropping to a dangerously quiet, controlled level.
Vaelorian's face went pale. "My love, please don't do this! Don't waste it on this anger! We can still fix this." he pleaded desperately.
"You're not in a position to tell me what to do anymore, Your Highness. I can do whatever the hell I want," Riven said through fresh, stinging tears, the words slicing into Vaelorian, breaking his heart all over again. He wanted so badly to ignore the rule, ignore the card, and rush forward to hold the younger boy in his arms, to muffle his pain with kisses.
"I know you're upset, but if you could just listen to me for one second, I can explain the political pressure—" Vaelorian tried one last time.
"No! Not anymore! Never again. I'm done with you, you hear me? Done!" Riven roared, stomping his foot in front of Vaelorian. He jabbed a trembling finger into the Prince's chest. "You and I, we're done. I never want to see you again, you hear me? If I ever see you again, so help me, I'll cut your fucking royal jewel and set it on fire!"
The threat, vicious and utterly serious, hung in the air. Riven didn't wait for a response. He spun on his heel and strode to the door, slamming it shut behind him with a final, echoing THUD that shook the walls and the Prince's resolve.