Chapter 325: 325 — He Is Perfect, Isn’t He?

He had begun to think it would no longer snow. However, as always, he was wrong.

Despite having lived in this land for centuries, he still failed to predict the weather.

Standing at the training grounds, Soren leaned his head against a nearby pillar.

Rihaan had begun to get along with the knights. They had even started engaging him in friendly duels.

From a distance, Soren followed the man with his gaze. It was as if Rihaan belonged here now—unlike in the past, when he would sulk in a corner, wondering why in the world he had been sent to such a cold land.

"May I ask what you are thinking about?"

Soren turned toward the voice. Oliver stood beside him, his head slightly lowered.

"There is not much to think about."

"Pardon me if I have overstepped by asking," Oliver said quietly, as though he had committed a grave offence.

The red-haired man chuckled, shaking his head.

"You needn’t worry. There was nothing special I was pondering."

"Are you certain?" Oliver raised an eyebrow, the faint tinge of violet in his eyes glimmering.

"Of course," Soren forced a smile. He couldn’t possibly admit that he had been trailing his ex-fiancé with his gaze from afar.

The Imperial Crown Prince glanced toward one of the large, wide windows. Outside, snow fell endlessly, as though it would never stop.

"If you say so," the captain replied, bowing before stepping away to join his subordinates—among whom a stranger had quietly mingled.

"You are remarkably skilled with your blade, Your Royal Highness!"

"I thought the rumours were true, but it seems they are not."

Rihaan narrowed his hazel gaze and raised an eyebrow.

"Rumours?" he echoed.

The knights exchanged awkward glances before one of them swallowed hard and spoke.

"It is said that you are not very capable as Crown Prince... that your brother will most likely take over the throne."

The words struck Rihaan like a raw nerve. His fists clenched at his sides as he forced himself to remain composed—not here, and certainly not in front of Soren.

"What nonsense," he chuckled, forcing a bright grin that never quite reached his eyes.

They lacked the usual spark they carried when his smile was genuine. Soren noticed it—but chose not to intervene.

After some time, once Rihaan had finished training with the knights, he returned to Soren’s side.

"Why didn’t you join today?" he asked.

"I have to meet one of the candidates individually," Soren replied. "I didn’t want to shower again."

Rihaan frowned, lips parting.

"You mean... marriage candidates?"

"Are there any other kinds of candidates in Revhara that I don’t know of?" Soren exhaled sharply, straightening his posture. "This is the only kind I have been hearing about for days now."

"I thought maybe..."

I hoped there was another kind, at least...

Rihaan bit the inside of his cheek until his mouth filled with bitterness.

He still lacked the courage to speak his feelings aloud—truthfully, without hiding behind pride or duty.

He had already sent a letter to his father, begging him to help fix the mess he himself had created. The reply he received was nothing but backlash and curses, each word cutting deeper than the first.

He was called a failure, a disgrace, a fool who had shattered his own perfect future with his own hands.

Back then, he hadn’t understood how much Soren would come to matter.

He had ignored his own heart—the feelings he feared would be branded as betrayal—and rushed to sever everything out of dread.

Fear of judgment.

Fear of consequences.

Fear of wanting something he never truly desired.

Fear of losing the only real relationship he had with Soren—that of friendship.

Now, standing here, listening to Soren speak so casually of marriage, Rihaan realized far too late how costly that fear had been. It took him a long time to understand that marriage could also be a form of friendship.

He had heard Soren say so to one of the princes who had travelled the frozen roads just to become the consort of the Imperial Crown Prince.

"Maybe?" Soren glanced at the man beside him, curiosity flickering in his amber eyes.

"It’s nothing," the alpha said, forcing a grin. "What are your plans?"

"I just told you. Didn’t you listen?" the omega replied with a soft giggle.

Rihaan froze, his gaze locked on the mesmerizing figure before him.

Lately, Soren hadn’t been wearing his glasses. Without them, his fox-shaped eyes seemed larger, and the amber of his irises caught the sunlight, glinting as if they held their own light.

"Prince Rihaan?" Soren waved his hand before the alpha’s face, trying to snap him out of whatever thoughts had him so distant.

"Yes?" Rihaan blinked, his attention slowly returning.

"What are you thinking so deeply about?" Soren asked, curiosity softening his tone.

"Nothing much," Rihaan replied.

The omega didn’t push for more, though he knew the alpha was lying. It wasn’t a surprise—if anything, Soren had expected Rihaan to be completely closed off.

Yet, unexpectedly, he had opened up through his letters before arriving here.

And so far, he hadn’t been as rude as he had in the past. Soren now understood why his friend had grown so distant: Rihaan simply loathed the idea of marriage.

"By the way... which prince are you meeting?"

Soren leaned back slightly, a faint glint in his amber eyes.

"Well, it’s the Prince of Maiju. I heard he’s quite skilled at poetry."

Rihaan’s jaw tightened, his hazel eyes narrowing.

"Poetry?" he hmphed. "That won’t help much when there’s a war to fight."

Soren chuckled softly, tilting his head. "Ah, worry not. He’s trained with the sword as well. Skilled, disciplined... I’ve even heard he’s clever in strategy."

Rihaan’s grip on the railing tightened slightly, a faint edge of jealousy creeping into his tone.

"So he is perfect, isn’t he? Handsome, smart, clever... and now even a poet?"

Soren nodded, his expression serious.

"Well, he might be talented, yes... but not as talented as someone I know very well."

Rihaan blinked, his eyes widening.

"And who could that be?"

"Well... there are actually quite a few people. I fear I cannot name them all."

The alpha stiffened. He parted his lips, then shut them again, biting his lower lip.

"Uh-huh?" he breathed. "And... am I part of them?"

Soren looked at him for what felt like forever before nodding.

"You were the best candidate to marry, after all."

Something stung in Rihaan’s chest.

The best candidate? Was that all he was?