The air was suffocating. Palpable.
Ariel felt like someone had cranked the summer heat twice as high.
But it wasn't the heat.
No.
It was him.
He sat across from her, lazily draped in his chair like a lion in the sun. His face—handsome, sculpted, glistening in the late morning glow—was almost too perfect to be real. Black silky hair curled down the side of his face, framing a sharp, aristocratic nose and plush lips tinted a dangerous, alluring rose. His godlike, muscle-toned physique pulsed beneath a crimson shirt and black slacks. His aura dominated the room—not in a suffocating way for most, but to Ariel, it felt like the walls were closing in, ready to crush her into mush.
And then there were his eyes.
Those golden honeydew eyes.
Mesmerizing. Captivating.
Ariel had never seen such a beautiful creature in her life. Not even that bloodthirsty mongrel could compare.
The moment she realized who he was, it felt like a bucket of molten lava had been poured over her.
The Crown Prince.
The dragon.
The one whose name made enemies soil themselves in fear.
The one she had crossed—more than once.
In ways that deserved an excruciating death.
But this was worse.
Her punishment had already been set.
To become the wife of the beast.
The Queen of his hell.
'Will I survive?' she wondered.
Ariel gulped as her eyes locked with Daniel's.
She froze.
Drowning in those golden depths.
Her heart skipped. Her stomach fluttered with a sensation she'd never felt before.
Exhilarating. Dangerous.
A daring thought whispered, to see where the thrill takes you, but fear held her back.
Even though she held power in the shadows, nearly equal to his, Daniel was uncharted waters.
And one wrong move could cost her dearly.
A gentle nudge poked her side.
It was Raymond.
She snapped out of it, turning to him. His disapproving look said it all.
Reality hit her like a slap.
What she'd just done—staring directly into the eyes of a monarch—was bold. Improper.
In some circles, it was considered an offense.
A challenge.
In older times, it could have cost her her head.
Daniel smirked.
"Bold, Flamingo," he murmured under his breath.
But Ariel heard it.
Her cheeks flushed. She quickly dropped her gaze to the table, suddenly fascinated by the arrangement of fruit and pastries.
Across the table, Alicia had been watching the entire exchange.
She hadn't missed a thing.
She was stunned by Ariel's audacity.
To look Daniel directly in the eyes—and for that long?
Even his own father didn't dare.
Most women trembled at the mere sight of him.
But this girl?
No fear. No hesitation.
And Daniel…
He was amused.
'Interesting', Alicia thought.
"Mmmm…"
Alicia cleared her throat, drawing all eyes to her.
"Well, good greetings, everyone. My apologies for the earlier spectacle. Unfortunately, there are… rats swarming around the palace who need a little pest control to keep them in order. But I can assure you—it won't happen again."
Ariel's lips curled into a subtle smile at the Queen Dowager's jab—clearly aimed at the Queen, the Second Prince, and that pair of skunks.
'Serves them right', she thought. 'Although… I would've preferred the show to go on.'
Daniel caught the smirk.
He saw the thrill in her eyes—the satisfaction she took in seeing her archenemy, the bat, dragged through the mud.
'Let's see how long you can keep that flamingo façade hiding the vulture beneath. I'm quite curious to see how far you'll go', he mused, eyeing her with growing interest.
"It's alright, Your Majesty," Raymond said smoothly.
"We're just grateful to be here—especially with the Crown Prince. I've heard he's such a busy man that securing time with him is nearly impossible…"
"Oh, stop being so modest, Ray," Alicia said with a wave of her hand.
"Daniel can be busy, yes, but he always makes time for his grandmother's guests. Isn't that right?"
Daniel offered a faint smile and bowed his head in agreement.
"Well then… it is such an honor, Your Highness," Raymond said, bowing respectfully.
"And thank you again, Your Majesty, for inviting me and my daughter to your lovely brunch. I'm sure you're already swamped with preparations for the upcoming bridal selection season, and we truly appreciate you making time for us."
"Nonsense, Raymond. You know I'll always make time to catch up with an old friend."
Alicia's eyes twinkled.
"Besides, you have such an exceptionally beautiful daughter. I've been eager to meet her properly—and get to know her a little more."
At that, Ariel turned to the Queen Dowager and dipped into a deep, graceful bow.
"It is my pleasure and honor to meet you, Your Majesty. Thank you so much for organizing such a lovely event for my father and me. I'm truly grateful."
Her voice was sweet, polished.
Daniel coughed lightly and muttered under his breath,
"Hypocrite."
Ariel's eyes flicked to him, sharp and swift.
He was already looking elsewhere, feigning innocence.
She turned to him, her tone syrupy.
"And thank you as well, Your esteemed Highness, for taking time out of your very busy schedule to attend this event. We are truly honored."
Daniel didn't respond. His gaze remained fixed on the garden and the blindingly bright decorations.
"Jerkass," Ariel muttered under her breath.
Daniel scoffed, low and amused, but didn't look her way.
Ariel sighed and turned back to the Queen Dowager.
"It's alright, my dear," Alicia said warmly.
"Your father and I have been friends for a long time. I'm truly glad to have this time with you. But enough with the pleasantries—let's enjoy our meal, shall we?"
She gestured, and the servants began to serve. Platters of delicacies were laid out, and the brunch commenced.
A few moments passed in silence before Alicia spoke again.
"So, Ariel," she said, dabbing her lips with a napkin.
"What are your majors, my dear? Do you perhaps have any unique talents?"
Ariel turned to her with poise.
"I hold an MBA in Governance and Politics, an Honours degree in Sociology and Philanthropy, a diploma in Business, and an honorary degree in Noble Etiquette. As for hobbies—I enjoy playing the piano and violin, composing music, and singing."
"How lovely," Alicia beamed.
"Judging by your beautiful voice, I'm sure you must be a wonderful singer. Perhaps you'll perform for me sometime?"
"It would be my pleasure, Your Majesty," Ariel replied graciously.
"And a horror to my ears," Daniel coughed.
Ariel shot him a look, then smirked.
"So, what are your talents, Your Highness?"
Daniel looked up, met her gaze briefly, then set down his spoon.
"I'm sorry, my lady. But I don't have any special talents."
Ariel snickered.
"Oh really? But I heard His Highness is such a great singer, that whenever he sings, all the bats and crows around the palace can't help but squeal and squawk in praise of his marvelous voice."
Daniel froze.
"I heard it even shakes the walls," she added sweetly, popping a piece of fruit into her mouth.
Gulp. Cough! Cough!
Raymond took a sip of his drink—then promptly began coughing.
"Oh… Father, are you okay?"
Ariel leaned toward him, rubbing his back gently.
"Here, take a drink."
She handed him a fresh glass of water, concern etched across her face.
Daniel remained frozen, watching as Ariel fussed over her father. His expression unreadable.
"Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha."
All heads turned to the Queen Dowager, who had burst into laughter.
Daniel glanced at his grandmother, cheeks tinged with the faintest pink, before quickly looking away.
"Ha ha… Oh, my dear sweet Ariel. You truly are one of a kind! I swear, I haven't laughed like this in ages. You really got this grumpy old hare good. 'No talents', my foot! What kind of shy excuse is that?"
She wiped a tear from her eye, still chuckling.
"Anyway, are you alright, Raymond dear?"
"Cough! Yes… yes. I'm fine. Thank you. Cough," Raymond replied, still recovering.
"Oh, I'm sorry, dear, but that cough sounds dreadful. It really should be checked out. Why don't we go see the royal doctor? I'm sure he can give you something to soothe that old throat," Alicia said sweetly.
Raymond opened his mouth to protest—he was fine, truly—but one look at Alicia's face told him everything.
She was doing this on purpose.
Using his cough as an excuse to leave the two young-ins alone.
"Cough… If you insist," he said, playing along.
Ariel looked at him, worried.
"Are you sure?"
Raymond nodded and slowly rose from his chair.
Alicia stood as well, her movements graceful and deliberate.
She gently took Raymond's arm and began guiding him away.
"Daniel, be a darling host and keep Miss Ariel company while we get her father's cough checked out, will you?"
"But—"
Ariel started to protest, but her words died in her throat.
She turned to Daniel.
He was swirling a spoon in his plate, utterly unbothered.
She glanced back at the two elders, now walking toward the palace—smirking to themselves like two cats who'd just set a mouse trap.
'Crap. It was a trap.'
And now she was alone.
With him.
The demon.
The monster of her nightmares.
The one she'd just insulted—twice.
She turned slowly.
Daniel was watching her.
His honeydew eyes had darkened, tinged with red.
'Oh crap.'
She was in trouble.
.......
Nearby, overlooking the gazebo from a high window, stood Eric.
His face was flushed with fury as he watched the Queen Dowager and that girl's father stroll away—smirking like mischievous matchmakers.
It was obvious.
They were trying to hook them up.
Her.
The very girl he'd had his eye on at the ball.
The one he thought his brother would never dare to pursue.
And yet here he was—Daniel—sitting across from her like he owned the moment.
Not even trying. Just existing.
And somehow, that was enough.
Ariel, for her part, looked uncomfortable… but undeniably intrigued.
Which stung.
Eric knew he didn't have his brother's heartthrobbing looks, but he was no slouch. He turned heads. Women chased him. He was charismatic, approachable—everything Daniel wasn't.
But no.
They always chose the beast.
Despite the rumors. Despite the fear.
They still fell for him. Silly. Helpless.
Eric felt pathetic.
No matter how hard he tried to prove his worth, he would always be second to his brother.
Always.
His fists clenched at his sides as he watched the two converse, their body language too familiar, too intimate.
If only he knew what was really happening at that gazebo…
He might be laughing.
Or at least relieved.
Because not every woman was as fickle as he feared.
"If you keep looking, it'll only hurt your pride," came a voice behind him.
"Best to look away—makes the pain a little less painful."
Eric turned slowly.
A young man at the same age as him lounged at a desk, a glass of brandy in hand. Ginger hair tousled, white shirt crisp, black slacks sharp. Round brown eyes, a flat nose, plush lips, and an athletic frame—he looked every bit the charming devil he was.
Eric sighed.
"No, Felix. It's better to watch every moment. Let the pain embed itself. Let it fill every vein, engrave itself on every bone. That way, when revenge comes… it'll be more sweeter and satisfying. And I'll do it without a shred of regret."
Felix snorted.
"Yeah, right. And when it happens, don't come crying to me for tequila or any other strong drink to drown your guilt. I'm not cleaning up your tears and puke again. You ruined my favorite grey suit, man. And damn, I really loved that suit."
Eric chuckled.
"Come on, Felix. You know I'm not a wimp. That only happened because I ate something bad. It mixed with the tequila. That's why I puked. Not guilt."
Felix raised an eyebrow.
Then, a voice echoed in the room:
"Oh… I'm such a fucking idiot! Waaa! Waa'
Eric froze.
The voice was his.
He turned and saw a video of him during one of his tequila-soaked breakdown, playing on Felix's phone.
"Why.....why....did I do it....why....he is my own fucking brother.....and I fucking hate him....but why.....why am I such a fucking asshole.....to do something so horribly...wrong.....waa..waa..."
"Wow," Felix said, shaking his head.
"Such a brave wimp you are. I wonder how Miss Beauty's gonna fall for a guy with bull-plumb muscles but chicken balls. Crying over something you did on purpose but don't have the guts to own. Tsk. What a sad, miserable man."
Eric flushed.
"And this sad, miserable man is about to kill you if you don't give me that phone. Come here!"
He lunged.
Felix dodged, laughing.
"No way, dude! This is my ticket to the glory land. I'm not giving it up that easy!"
"Oh yeah? Then watch me, punk!"
The two men tore across the room, wrestling and laughing, knocking over cushions and dodging furniture in a chaotic blur.
Meanwhile…
A shadow lingered by the door.
Every word of their conversation tasted like bile in her throat.
It felt like weakness.
An ailment she could not afford.
She had clawed her way to where she stood now.
And she would not let anyone—anyone—jeopardize her ascent.
Not a weeping prince.
Not a lovesick fool.
Not even the Queen Dowager herself.
With one last listen, she turned and glided down the hallway.
Her gown whispered against the marble floors, each step echoing like a war drum through the palace walls.
That sound wasn't just marking her presence.
It was echoing her dominance.
She was the Queen of this palace.
And of the world's most powerful kingdom.
And she would not let anyone steal her crown.
No one.