Golden hair, neatly tied back, gleamed like threads of fire under the ballroom lights. His skin was fair, his figure regal in navy and white formalwear, the royal crest pinned proudly at his shoulder. But it was his eyes—piercing and steady, the color of morning frost—that left Cael wary.
He looked like someone born to rule.
Not cold like the king, not cruel like the queen. But powerful in a way that needed no shouting.
The twins stood straighter when he arrived, As the Crown Prince approached, Viel reluctantly slipped down from Cael's embrace, his small hand still clutching the edge of Cael's cloak like he didn't want to let go. their usual laziness replaced by something more polite, more poised.
"Eryx. Viel," the Crown Prince greeted, voice soft but clear. "It's been a while."
"Mm," Viel hummed, unimpressed.
Eryx offered a lazy bow. "Brother."
The prince's gaze lingered on them with subtle fondness, eyes drifting toward the fresh bandages peeking from Viel's collar.
"...You've been hurt," he noted.
"We're always hurt," Eryx said flatly. "It's nothing."
The prince frowned. "Has it gotten worse?"
"No," Viel murmured. "We're fine now."
Cael, standing silently behind them, could sense it—concern, laced in the Crown Prince's words. A quiet kind of care. Not loud, not doting, but real.
Unlike their indifferent father.
Unlike the queen who sent blades in the dark.
He truly seemed to worry for them.
And that, Cael thought, was... strange. He expected ice. Instead, he saw a flicker of warmth.
Then, the Crown Prince's eyes flicked toward him.
Tall, masked, silent.
The prince studied him with curiosity. "And who is this?"
Cael tensed.
His hand instinctively reached toward the hilt at his waist—then lowered. Slowly.
He bowed his head slightly.
Before the prince could say more, Eryx stepped in.
"He's ours."
"Ours?" the Crown Prince echoed.
"Our knight," Viel added, stepping protectively in front of Cael. "He's mute."
"And shy," Eryx said.
The prince blinked. "I see..."
His gaze lingered on Cael a moment longer—thoughtful, inquisitive.
But he nodded.
No pressure. No demand.
Just quiet understanding.
"I'm glad you've found someone to trust," he said, voice sincere. "You look... calmer than last year."
"Because of him," Viel said quietly, clutching Cael's sleeve.
Eryx smirked. "We are in great care"
Cael twitched.
The prince raised a brow—then gave Cael a slow, deliberate nod.
A sign of respect. And warning.
If they're protecting you... I will not interfere.
Cael dipped his head in return, heart hammering beneath his ribs.
He didn't know if the Crown Prince recognized him.
But in that moment, thanks to the twins standing guard like little wolves in silk—
He was safe.
And then—
A voice.
Warm. Deep. Laced with gentleness and velvet steel.
A voice Cael could never mistake, not even in dreams.
"...Rowan," he whispered soundlessly, breath caught in his throat.
He turned his head ever so slightly—and there he was.
Draped in obsidian and royal blue, surrounded by nobles like stars around a midnight moon. Rowan D'Arvis. Twenty-three. The youngest Duke in the realm. More beautiful than any rumor dared claim. His golden hair was swept back with care, his figure tall and commanding, his smile slow and calculated—the kind that could ruin nations or win wars without lifting a sword.
Cael's heart plummeted.
Even from this far, even hidden beneath a mask, his knees weakened with dread.
Not now.
Please, not now.
The twins had just been called away by the King himself—an audience only for blood. They insisted he come, clung to his sleeves like children, but guards held firm. He was a knight, a servant, and nothing more in the eyes of the court.
He told himself it gonna be okay.
After the ball finish,everything will be over.He will go back to Dukedom with twins and not even a ghost will realise his existence here.No one will know he was here.
But as he moved quietly toward the ballroom's edge, hoping to vanish into the corridor—
Their eyes met.
Rowan's gaze, sharp as a blade wrapped in silk, locked on his.
Time stopped.
The crowd blurred.
And Cael's breath shattered.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Then Cael's fingers twitched—fight or flight flooding his veins—and he turned.
Not too fast.
Not too sudden.
Just calm. Normal. Casual.
A ghost disappearing before the storm could catch him.
But in his chest, his heartbeat screamed.
Rowan had seen him.
And no matter how far he ran this time...
He knew.
He wouldn't be allowed to leave.