At nightfall
They returned to the manor under the soft glow of the moon. The ride back had been
unusually quiet, Venn and Velzra hadn't spoken a word. As soon as they arrived,
Venn disappeared without a trace, leaving Velzra standing silently, unsure where to find him or whether he even should.
"Welcome back, Your Grace," Keith greeted them with a polite bow. Clara and Rolen stood beside him, both offering warm yet weary smiles.
"Did anything happen while I was away?" Craige asked as they stepped inside, his
tone calm but alert.
"The King sent a letter," Keith replied
"You can rest now, Velzra," Luren said softly, noticing the fatigue written all over the
young man's face.
Velzra nodded without a word and quietly walked toward his room. Before entering, he
paused and glanced over his shoulder, as if expecting someone, hoping Venn might appear. But the hallway remained empty. He sighed and closed the door behind him.
"I'll rest as well," Luren said, stopping Craige gently by the arm. His eyes were tired, his body heavy from both travel and unspoken thoughts.
"Alright, baby," Craige said, pressing a soft kiss to the top of Luren's head.
"Don't overwork yourself," Luren murmured, squeezing his hand. "Come to bed early,
okay?"
With a nod, Craige watched him leave with Clara, then turned to Keith and Rolen and headed to his office.
Meanwhile, Clara walked alongside Luren. After a moment of silence, she glanced at him and asked, "What happened to Velzra? He looked… shaken."
Luren shrugged, though a flicker of concern passed through his eyes.
"He's probably just exhausted from the journey," he replied, not entirely convinced
himself. "Anyway, how are the preparations for the Frostmere Festival Ball?"
"Axel's on it," Clara replied. "The grand hall will be ready before the event. The butlers
are helping tidy up the unused rooms to make them more presentable for the guests. Also…" her voice dropped slightly, "…Father sent a letter. According to our contacts in Velgarith, the King knows where you are."
Luren stopped walking. His eyes hardened.
"Then it's time I settle things, once and for all," he said with quiet resolve.
Clara stared at him, her breath caught in her chest. She had never seen that fire in his eyes before.
"Tell the mercenary group to start searching for the people of Elarion," Luren commanded.
Clara nodded solemnly. Without another word, they went their separate ways,
disappearing down opposite hallways into the silence of the manor night.
"Claren and Prince Karin will be arriving early. It seems the palace is in turmoil," Craige said after reading the letter. His expression darkened. "Tell all the guards to
double the security and go meet them at the border, the ambush can happen anytime."
"Yes, Your Grace," Keith responded with a quick bow.
"Also," Keith added, "the night watchers will be arriving soon. They reported an unusual number of people arriving at the border."
"They're too early for the Frostmere Festival," Craige muttered, rubbing his chin
thoughtfully. "It's still two months away…"
Keith hesitated before delivering the next piece of news. "It seems the Velgarith
already know who Lucen is. And... they're aware that three omegas are now in the North."
Craige's eyes narrowed. "Then it's only a matter of time. The King of Velgarith will make his move soon."
Turning sharply, Craige called out, "Rolen, tell Ione to become Claren's bodyguard."
Rolen gave a firm nod and silently exited the room.
"Ione? That amazona?" Keith raised a brow, half amused. "I hope she likes kids."
"She has younger siblings. She'll do fine," Craige replied, his voice calm but decisive.
"She'll protect Claren with her life."
"Let's take a rest," he added, rising from his chair.
Before they could leave, Keith paused. "Fiona is coming."
Craige furrowed his brows, unsure of what Keith was implying. "And?"
Keith gave him a knowing look. "Remember your last rut? I think she... likes you. If Luren
finds out, it might cause trouble."
"Damn... I don't even remember it happening," Craige muttered, running a hand through his hair. "Are you sure it happened?"
Keith hesitated. "Some of the soldiers saw her leaving your room. It was during the time we were searching for your medicine."
Craige clenched his jaw. "I always remember who I spend my rut with. This feels...wrong."
"You're right. She might've drugged you."
Craige's voice turned cold. "Investigate Fiona. I won't tolerate traitors in our ranks."
"Yes, Your Grace," Keith answered, more serious now, before the two of them headed toward the door.
Craige noticed Keith veering in a different direction. "Why are you going that way?"
he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Keith froze.
"That room was…" Craige stopped, then smiled suspiciously at Keith, who was shyly
scratching the back of his head.
A mischievous smile curved on Craige's lips.
"Good night then," he said teasingly.
"Good night, Your Grace," Keith replied, flustered but smiling.
---
"Why are you still awake?" Craige asked softly, his voice low and warm as he spotted
Luren bent over the table, pen in hand.
Luren looked up with a sleepy smile. "Just reviewing a few documents… and waiting for
you," he murmured, eyes tired but filled with affection.
Craige smiled faintly, already undoing the buttons of his shirt. "I'll take a quick shower," he said, heading to the bathroom.
Luren quietly folded the papers and placed them aside, the candlelight flickering
gently across his features. He climbed into bed, sinking into the comfort of the blankets. Not long after, Craige joined him, his skin warm and damp from the shower.
"What did the King say?" Luren asked, curling closer to him.
Craige sighed as he pulled Luren into his arms. "Claren and Prince Karin will be arriving soon," he said, his voice a little heavier now, laced with thoughts of tomorrow.
Luren rested his head against Craige's chest, the rhythm of his heartbeat slowly
lulling him. He nodded, exhaustion finally catching up.
"Good night, my love," Luren whispered, his breath barely brushing Craige's skin.
"Good night, my baby," Craige murmured, pressing a soft kiss to Luren's hair.
Wrapped in each other's warmth, they both drifted into a peaceful sleep.
---
"Hey, what's wrong? You've been drinking like there's no tomorrow since you got back," Borg asked, eyeing Venn with concern.
"Did the cutie prisoner finally catch our playboy's heart?" Ione teased with a
mischievous laugh.
Venn didn't respond. He didn't even look at them. He just kept drinking, eyes fixed on
nothing, lost in thoughts he couldn't even begin to untangle. He never imagined
someone could affect him like this, so deeply, so unexpectedly.
"What happened, man?" Borg asked again, this time more softly, noticing the storm
behind Venn's silence.
Venn shook his head. "I... I don't know," he muttered, his voice low and uncertain. Even
he couldn't explain what he was feeling.
Knock knock knock.
"Come in!" Ione called out without missing a beat.
The door opened and Rolen stepped inside, his expression as serious as ever.
"Hey, Rolen! What's up?" Borg greeted, raising his drink in a half-hearted toast.
"His Grace wants you to protect Prince Claren upon his arrival," Rolen said, addressing Ione. "You'll lead the soldiers meeting him at the border."
Ione stood up and gave him a confident thumbs-up. "Got it."
"Alright. I'm leaving now," Rolen said and turned to go.
"Hey, wait—join us!" Borg called out, but the door had already closed.
Ione burst into laughter. "Rolen is always so uptight!"
"Yeah," Borg agreed with a chuckle, taking another swig of his drink. "One day, that
guy's gonna die from stress."
"I'm going to sleep. Just visit him tomorrow, loverboy," Ione said teasingly as she stood
up and headed to her room, not even glancing back.
"That woman is really heartless," Borg muttered under his breath, shaking his head before turning to Venn. "Just one more drink, man, then let's get some rest. His Grace will probably have a task for us tomorrow." He gave Venn a firm pat on the shoulder, concern flickering in his eyes.