"I mean... I humiliated you. I shouldn’t have won and made the knights distrust your strength..."

Soren sighed, shaking his head.

"Seriously?" He scoffed. "I truly don’t understand where you all come up with this. Humiliating me? As if."

"Then why did you leave right after the spar without congratulating me?" Oliver finally looked up, his eyes damp, tears threatening to fall at any moment.

"That was because I had a meeting. Refrain from assuming things and come talk to me like you did now, alright?" Soren smiled faintly.

The captain nodded.

"And put that sword back in your sheath."

Oliver sprang to his feet, picking up the sword and putting it back in its sheath.

"You deserve punishment for this behaviour. I can’t allow someone who aimed at my neck to wander freely around the palace," Soren began, his gaze unwavering.

Oliver swallowed hard, his heart racing rapidly.

"Y-Your—"

"Go finish the expedition in the north, Captain Oliver. I hope by that time, you will have learned your lesson."

Oliver lowered his head. Soren was not being kind. Instead of sending him to the dungeon or executing him, he was sending him to the most dreadful place, filled with monsters.

"Y-Your Imperial Highness, I apologize."

"I know you didn’t mean any harm. However, I can’t allow this. It’s the rules."

Hearing the sound of footsteps, the two men turned toward the person who had just entered—Rihaan.

"Why are you here?" Oliver gritted his teeth. He didn’t like this man—not one bit.

"Why are you sending him to his death? He said it was to make sure you were alright," Rihaan said, sitting down without even asking permission from Soren.

Oliver glared at him, displeased by the man’s easygoing attitude.

"You were eavesdropping?" Soren scoffed.

"No. I just overheard it when I was about to enter. I thought it wouldn’t be right to interrupt you, but—"

"Prince Rihaan," Soren folded his arms, clearly displeased with his demeanour.

"What? Come on, forgive him just once. Not everything needs to be done by the law."

Soren shook his head.

"Rules are rules."

Rihaan groaned.

"You are so—" he cut himself off midway. "I pity the person who will need to marry you."

"It will certainly not be you," Soren forced a smile.

Rihaan’s mouth filled with a sour taste. He didn’t like the sound of that. Not one bit.

It should have been him.

Then, he cursed himself. He was the one who had ruined it. Now, he was just a spectator, no longer an actor. Not the hero.

"Anyhow, Oliver, you may begin your preparations," Soren ordered.

Rihaan sighed, turning toward the man.

"Don’t worry. I will tell him to reconsider," he said.

Oliver raised an eyebrow, his expression clearly stating: I didn’t ask.

Then he glanced at the red-haired man.

"There is no need. I will lay down my life if His Imperial Highness commands."

Having said that, Oliver bowed to the two before exiting the study.

Soren’s gaze darted back to the window as if Rihaan wasn’t there to begin with.

For a long moment, the two admired the snowfall in silence. When it finally stopped pouring, Soren turned, resuming his work and ignoring Rihaan completely.

"Haah... Are you ignoring me now?" Rihaan forced a dry laugh.

The situation wasn’t funny at all. If anything, it made him want to flip the table covered with the things Soren was working on—the very things because of which he was ignoring Rihaan.

Rihaan rose from his chair as if about to leave.

Soren’s shoulders lowered a little—dropping his guard.

Then the light-brown-haired man pulled the quill from the omega’s grip.

Soren’s gaze shot up, glaring at him.

"What is the meaning of this?" he asked, trying his best to control his fury.

"You are ignoring me."

"So?"

The coldness in his tone and eyes sent chills down Rihaan’s spine. He wasn’t the weak kind—and he could easily win against Soren. Yet his body froze, his hand lowering as if it possessed a mind of its own.

The omega took back his quill, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"Please leave. I have things to do," Soren said, starting to scribble words on the parchment once more.

Rihaan exhaled sharply, lowering himself back into the chair.

"What if I refuse?"

"Then keep sitting here in silence."

Soren was certain that it would make the man leave. Yet, to his surprise, he remained seated, staring at him.

The red-haired man dreaded looking up. He feared seeing the kind of gaze Rihaan was fixing on him.

Anger?

Pity?

Or perhaps...

He shook the possibility from his mind immediately. What was done could no longer be undone.

The scratching of the quill was the only sound filling the room.

Soren focused on each stroke, forcing his thoughts to remain on ink and parchment rather than the weight of Rihaan’s presence. Yet he could feel it—the steady, unmoving gaze on him. It felt like a pressure against his back, one far too heavy to carry.

"Look elsewhere," he mumbled.

"...I thought you had changed when you took my side in front of your father. But at the end of the day, you only work by the book," Rihaan said at last, his voice quieter than before.

Soren’s hand paused for a fraction of a second. He corrected the misstroke with a sharp line and continued writing.

"Why would I change? I am fine the way I currently am."

"Really?" Rihaan raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms.

Finally, the omega looked up, meeting the other man’s gaze.

"Yes."

"If you did, you would believe in listening to the other side properly."

"I did listen to what Oliver had to say."

"And yet you passed a judgment that was against him?"

"Are you trying to defend someone who almost killed me?" Soren tried to remain composed, yet it seemed this man had everything in him to make him lose his calm.

Rihaan narrowed his eyes.

"But he didn’t. He wouldn’t—"

"And how do you know that?" Soren interrupted Rihaan before he could finish his sentence.