Sitting at the table, a young man took a sip of his tea, his curly light-brown hair falling over his tan skin. He placed the cup on the wooden table and reached for a quill, writing with a kind of fervent focus.

"Dear beloved—"

He began to read what he’d written, only to be interrupted by a knock on the door.

Furrowing his brows, he turned toward it.

"What is it?" he demanded, his deep voice cutting through the stillness of the hotel room.

"Your Royal Highness, a letter has arrived for you—from the Emperor of Revhara," Ashwin, his attendant, announced as he opened the door. He bowed deeply before the Crown Prince of Danshin, his posture impeccable.

He took it and quickly skimmed through its content before tossing the letter aside with a groan, running a hand through his messy curls.

"Go to the palace," he muttered, mimicking the Emperor’s deep voice. "As if I have nothing better to do," he scoffed.

Grabbing his dark jacket, he slipped it over his shoulders and made his way out of the hotel, ignoring Ashwin’s protests that the carriage was already waiting.

"I’ll walk," he said simply, waving a hand behind him, smiling brightly. That way, there were more chances that he would be late and miss the meeting.

The moment he stepped outside, a sharp chill greeted him. He exhaled, watching the puff of white smoke curl in the air. A faint smile tugged at his lips.

"Right... This is what winter feels like here," he murmured, his hazel eyes glinting as snowflakes drifted down, melting against his skin.

He tilted his head back, taking in the sight of the snow-covered rooftops and glistening lanterns that lined the street. Despite himself, he was mesmerized. The city of Revhara had a strange charm—quiet, proud, and far too beautiful for someone who didn’t want to be here.

Still, he shoved his hands into his pockets and began walking.

"Let’s get this over with," he grumbled, but there was no real annoyance in his tone—only the reluctant curiosity of a young man who didn’t yet realize that fate was already pulling him toward someone he was destined to meet.

The market was alive despite the cold. Stalls lined the street, selling everything from steaming pastries to clothes that caught the winter’s theme. He stopped by one, examining a small crystal blue bird when something in the crowd caught his eye.

Two men walked side by side—a tall, broad-shouldered one with sharp features and striking silver hair, and beside him, a smaller man with a quiet grace, his red hair contrasting with the snow, his thin figure wrapped in a grey jacket.

The young prince blinked. Then blinked again as if to make sure he was not hallucinating.

"I didn’t imagine him to be this good-looking now," he mumbled before realizing what he’d just said aloud.

Ashwin, who had finally caught up to him, raised an eyebrow.

"Your Highness?" He managed to say, his breath uneven.

"Nothing!" he said quickly, turning his face away. But curiosity got the better of him, and he peeked again.

"Isn’t that... Soren of Revhara?"

Ashwin nodded quickly.

"It is, Your Highness. It had been years since I last saw him but... How did you recognize him at first glance, Your Highness?"

The prince exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his ears.

"There is no such thing. I thought it was him. I was not sure." He protested.

"But great. Just great. The one I’m supposed to marry is wandering around in the streets freely."

His hazel eyes then drifted toward Ren, who had stopped to help a vendor pick up fallen apples, his movements calm and gentle.

"And who’s that?" he asked before he could stop himself.

"That is Lord Zayden’s servant, I believe. It is rare to come across someone this beautiful."

He frowned slightly.

"Servant? He doesn’t look like one."

For a moment, he forgot the biting cold, his gaze fixed on the pair as they spoke quietly to each other. Then he shook his head, forcing himself to look away.

"Tch. Not my problem. I’ll just say I got lost on the way to the palace."

But even as he said that, his eyes drifted back toward the two familiar figures.

Just then, he could have sworn Soren’s gaze met his. His breath caught. He wanted to turn away, pretend he hadn’t seen him—but his body refused to move.

A moment later, the Crown Prince of Revhara began walking toward him, the silver-haired servant following close behind.

"Crown Prince Rihan?" Soren’s voice was soft, barely cutting through the chatter of the busy market.

Rihan’s heart skipped. He immediately lowered his head, bowing with Ashwin beside him. "Your Imperial Highness."

"Ah, please—" Soren raised his hands quickly, his tone nervous. "There’s no need for that here. You’ll draw attention."

Rihan straightened, his cheeks warming.

"What are you doing here?" Soren asked. "If I recall correctly, His Majesty summoned you to the palace today, didn’t he?"

And that’s exactly why I left the palace... Why did I have to run into him now?

Soren bit the inside of his cheek. 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

Rihan forced a laugh, though it sounded forced even to his own ears. He rubbed the back of his neck, forcing a grin.

"Ah, well, yes... His Majesty did summon me, but I—uh—thought I’d take a little detour."

"A detour?" Soren narrowed his eyes, not trusting his words at all.

"The streets here are far more interesting than palace corridors," Rihan said quickly, gesturing around. "And the snow looks nicer outside than the closed royal palace."

Soren’s lips twitched, trying not to smile.

"You’re avoiding him."

Rihan froze.

"What? N–no! I could never! I just... value cultural experience. It has been so long since I came here."

Before the silence could linger between them, Ren leaned closer to Soren and whispered, "I will go find the General and Eiran."

Soren gave a brief nod, his expression softening.

"Thank you," Ren said before he slipped into the crowd, leaving the two princes standing amidst the noise and crowd of the market street.

Rihan exhaled once Ren was gone, his hazel eyes flicking back to Soren.

"So... that was your attendant?"

"My friend," Soren corrected, almost too quickly.

"Oh," Rihan said, curiosity flashing across his face. "You seem close."

Soren’s gaze followed the direction Ren had disappeared in.

"Does it seem like that?"

For a moment, neither spoke. The sound of merchants calling out and children laughing filled the space between them.

Rihan looked down, toeing at the snow with his boot.

"Well," he muttered, "I didn’t think I’d run into you here of all places... You haven’t replied to any of my letters either."

Soren turned, as if he had recalled something. But that was only an act. Because he couldn’t do what Rihan wanted from him.

"I should head back," he said quickly, walking into the crowd.

Rihan watched the silhouette and understood too well. Soren was not going to cancel the engagement.

"Damn it," he grumbled under his breath.