Soren had no idea how to escape this strange atmosphere tightening around him. On his way to meet Rihaan in the audience hall, he had the misfortune of crossing paths with Enzo. The man looked far better than before, though he still relied on a walking stick for support.

The physician had assured them Enzo would recover soon, calling it a miracle he’d survived the breaking of a fated bond at all. Then the elderly man added thoughtfully:

"Perhaps only because the alpha died. Most of the time, only one survives—and it’s usually the alpha, since most omegas aren’t trained the way alphas are. Though Revhara is an exception, with omegas able to become knights or whatever they choose."

Before Soren could slip away, Enzo turned to him. "What are you doing here? We’re supposed to leave soon."

When Soren explained that Rihaan had come to see him, Enzo—brilliantly—suggested they invite the crown prince to join their outing. Certain Rihaan would refuse, so Soren reluctantly brought Enzo along to greet him.

But, to his horror, Rihaan agreed without hesitation. He was certain the man smiled when he noticed Soren’s jaw drop, a frown forming on his usually composed face.

And now, here they were—Soren and Rihaan seated in the same carriage, while Zayden, Ren, and Eiran rode together in the other.

"So, why did you come here?" Enzo asked with a soft smile.

"Can I not come to visit my..." Rihaan paused, as if carefully choosing his next word.

"Your...?" Enzo repeated, narrowing his eyes, waiting for him to finish his sentence.

"...Fiancé," Rihaan finished, forcing a grin.

Soren’s body went rigid. He was no stranger to lies, but hearing one from Rihaan sent an unexpected chill down his spine, maybe because Rihaan had rarely bothered lying to him in the past.

Or maybe because Soren knew the truth beneath that warm smile—the taunt hidden just under the surface.

Enzo laughed softly, unaware of the storm brewing behind Soren’s expression.

"Well, that certainly makes today more interesting. Since you are both here anyway, let’s all enjoy the outing together."

Soren shot him a glare that screamed: Please stop talking, but Enzo failed to notice although he sat right in front of him.

Rihaan leaned back against the seat, gaze sliding to Soren with a quiet intensity.

"You look pale. Did our engagement’s invitation letter surprise you that much?"

Enzo gasped, mouth flying to his mouth.

"Wait, really?"

Soren’s fingers tightened around the edge of his sleeve.

"It didn’t surprise me," he replied flatly. "I just didn’t expect you to accept Enzo’s invitation."

"Why wouldn’t I?" Rihaan asked, voice gentle—too gentle. "You’re important to me. I wouldn’t refuse."

Important.

The word landed heavily between them.

Enzo blinked, forcing a small chuckle.

"Wait... are you two fighting or flirting? I genuinely can’t tell."

Soren felt his face heat.

"Enzo, I have a headache. Can I have some silence?"

Rihaan’s lips curved.

"I didn’t know you got embarrassed so easily."

"I’m not embarrassed," Soren snapped, looking out of the window.

The carriage jolted slightly as the horses picked up pace. For a moment, the only sound was the clatter of hooves on stone.

Then Rihaan spoke again, quieter this time. "Soren... about the engagement. I hope you won’t run away while we talk about it with me today."

Soren froze, breath caught in his throat. He really wanted to run away now.

Soren froze, breath caught in his throat.

But Rihaan... just sighed.

Not frustrated. Nor pleading. Or heartbroken. Just... tired of all this.

"Your Imperial Highness," he said, voice barely above a whisper as he leaned closer.

"Not now," Soren glanced at him before turning toward the window again. They couldn’t discuss this in front of Enzo, even if he was seated across from them and might not hear them because he was focused on the scenery outside.

***

The carriage stopped in front of a large restaurant. The roads were quiet and empty—large snowflakes poured down like soft wool.

The carriage door was swung open by the coachman, and Zayden stepped out first. He extended his hand to help Eiran, but the boy jumped onto the snow instead, only to hiss as some of it slipped into his boots.

Zayden chuckled, folding his arms.

"Should’ve taken my help."

Eiran narrowed his eyes, pouting.

"Help Papa. He will slip and fall."

"Yes, of course," Zayden said, then extended his hand toward Ren, who was about to exit the carriage.

Ren didn’t take Zayden’s hand, causing the General to click his tongue in disbelief.

"You two are truly father and son," he sighed, shaking his head.

Eiran and Ren exchanged a glance. Silence lingered in the air for a moment before they both burst into laughter.

"And what’s so funny?" Soren asked, a wide grin on his face as he approached them.

Behind him, Rihaan and Enzo followed.

Enzo forced a smile, though his heart ached at the sight of Zayden with Ren and Eiran, appearing like a happy family. He knew he had to let go, and he had decided to, but it was no easy task—getting over a love that had lasted decades, maybe even centuries.

"They are making fun of me," Zayden replied, entering the restaurant. The doors were held open by a doorman who bowed politely in greeting.

"Oh? Well, I wouldn’t blame them," Soren chuckled.

"Why don’t you join them while you’re at it?" Zayden added.

"I wouldn’t. I am your brother," Soren chuckled.

"Greetings, Your Imperial Highness," the restaurant owner said enthusiastically as he approached Soren. "It is a pleasure to see you here!" He clapped his hands excitedly. "Allow me to guide you to your reserved room."

"A room?" Rihaan raised an eyebrow, glancing at Soren, who didn’t bother answering. "Well, you have the money, so who am I to say anything," he mumbled.

Enzo slowly paced forward, noticing Ren and Zayden, while Soren and Rihaan were busy in their own conversation. The scene looked more like a group of couples on dates than friends visiting the capital together.

Just then, Eiran tugged on his sleeve, catching his attention.

"What is it?" Enzo asked, forcing a smile.

"Why do you use this?" the boy asked, pointing toward the stick in Enzo’s hands.