A fragile ownership.
Kyon walked down the grand hallway, his composure a flawless mask of regal indifference. The white tea scent was a cloud of elegant lies around him, a stark contrast to the burning amber that still clung to the air in his bedroom. His butler, a stiff, silent man, walked a respectful pace behind him. Kyon had just managed to re-center himself, to push the image of Arion's tear-streaked face and shivering body to the back of his mind, when a new disruption entered his path.
Rounding the corner, as if summoned by the very air of contention, was his older brother, Cassian. Cassian was a mirror of Kyon, a few years his senior, with the same raven hair and sharp, chiseled features. The court often remarked on their uncanny resemblance, a shared beauty that was both a blessing and a curse. But where Kyon's beauty was a refined, almost delicate facade, Cassian's was a more brutal, unrestrained thing. His eyes, a shade lighter than Kyon's, held a perpetually calculating gleam.
Their father, the King, had long favored Cassian. The older brother possessed the raw, aggressive charisma that the court valued in an heir. But Kyon had been smarter, more cunning, and far more patient. He had manipulated the court, sowing seeds of doubt and weaving a web of political alliances that had quietly, effectively, sidelined his brother. Now, Kyon was the heir, but Cassian remained a constant, unwelcome presence—a ghost of what could have been, and a threat to everything Kyon held dear.
The air between them crackled with unspoken animosity. Kyon's lip curled into a subtle smirk, a silent acknowledgment of his victory. He walked closer, his head held high, ready to dismiss his brother with a single, cutting glance.
Cassian, however, didn't move. He stood in the middle of the hallway, a languid smile on his face. His scent, a sharp, bitter cedarwood, was a direct challenge to Kyon's feigned serenity. "Kyon," he said, his voice a low, mocking drawl. "I was just on my way to speak with you."
Kyon's smirk widened, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "I am on my way to a Council meeting, brother. The affairs of the kingdom cannot wait."
Cassian's smile didn't falter. "I'm sure they can spare a moment. I have something... rather important to discuss with you. I've heard you've acquired a new pet. An interesting little warrior, I hear. You know how much I love collecting rare things. Perhaps you'd be willing to part with him?"
The words were a direct assault. A taunt, a threat, a clear sign that Cassian knew of Arion. Kyon's composure almost broke. The white tea scent flickered, a hint of amber threatening to seep through. He had already lost Arion's respect; he would not lose his ownership. Arion was his, a truth he would defend with every manipulative bone in his body. Cassian had always wanted what was his, and Kyon knew he wouldn't rest until he had stolen Arion, just as he had always tried to steal his throne, his influence, and his father's love.