Unknown to them, Cleven was just outside the door. He had left Prince Karin talking with
their elder brother, the King, intending to join Craige and Luren, but paused when he saw their shadows, locked in a quiet embrace. A sly smile curled on his lips as he lingered, silently eavesdropping.
"Enough eavesdropping," Craige suddenly said as he opened the door. He had known Cleven was there the moment he arrived, but he couldn't bring himself to let go of Luren just yet. The younger man's innocent questions and flustered face were
simply too endearing.
"I haven't heard you laugh like that in ages, Brother," Cleven teased with a chuckle.
"I was standing guard, you know. What if someone had seen the infamous Duke of the
North giggling like a love-struck fool?"
Craige ignored his brother's taunt. "Have the King and Queen arrived? Luren, come, we're
expected. The Queen and the Prince want to see you."
"They've arrived. The banquet has already started," Cleven replied with a grin still
lingering on his face.
The three of them walked side by side toward the raised platform where the King and Queen were seated. Around them, nobles chattered and mingled, laughter and music
blending in the grand hall. Prince Karin stood not far off, entertaining a small circle of nobles.
"Greetings, Your Majesties, the sun and the moon of the empire," the three men said in
unison, bowing respectfully.
The King's face lit up. "Brothers! It's been far too long since the three of us stood
together. Let's share a drink later," he said, lifting an imaginary cup and winking at Craige.
Luren and the Queen both smiled, amused by the warm camaraderie between the brothers.
"Lulen!" a cheerful voice cried out.
Prince Claren came running toward him, his golden attire glimmering under the
chandelier lights, a radiant little symbol of royalty. He threw his arms around Luren with childish affection.
"I also want to reward you, Luren," the King declared, his voice echoing over the
chatter. "For protecting the young Prince that day. You have my gratitude."
Luren bowed low, his heart pounding. He didn't want attention, nor the weight of being
bound by royal favor, but it was a King's word. He had no choice.
"Thank you for your generosity, Your Majesty," he said, forcing his voice steady.
The music started to swell, signaling the beginning of a formal dance.
"Craige, go ask Prince Karin for a dance," the king commanded.
Craige hesitated, his eyes drifting to where Luren sat, laughing softly with Claren.
For a moment, he looked as if he wanted to stay, but duty was duty. He turned and walked toward Prince Karin.
Luren heard the king's words, but he only tightened his grip on his wine glass, pretending not to notice. His heart twisted, but he forced a smile as he continued playing along with Claren.
"Cleven, why don't you ask one of the noble ladies who keep staring your way?" King Carl said with a teasing tone.
"I think I'll stay here for a while, Your Majesty," Cleven replied with a sly smile,
stepping closer to Luren, something clearly brewing in his mind.
Meanwhile, Prince Karin saw Craige approaching and smiled subtly. He had come to Seravelle not just to enjoy the festivities, but with purpose. The aloof Duke of the North was exactly the kind of protector he needed. His position back in Lunathia was unstable. His brothers saw him as a pawn, something to be sold off to Velgarith to appease their mad king, Seducing Craige could change everything.
But to his dismay, the Duke already had someone close by, an omega constantly at his side. Still, he wouldn't back down. He simply needed to adjust his approach.
"Prince Karin," Craige said with a slight bow, kneeling to offer his hand. "May I have
this dance?"
Karin gave a sweet, elegant smile and placed his hand in Craige's.
"The pleasure is mine."
They moved to the center of the ballroom, gliding across the floor with effortless grace.
The crowd looked on as the two seemed to match perfectly, regal and poised.
"I don't know if this is the right time," Karin whispered softly, "but I'd like to speak
to you in private after the ball, Your Grace."
Craige raised a brow, a bit surprised. "Sure… I suppose it must be important."
"I feel a little dizzy. May I lean on your shoulder?" Karin asked seductively. Before
Craige could answer, the prince leaned forward, resting his head against his collarbone.
Luren saw it all. If looks could kill, the two on the dance floor would've been reduced
to ash. His grip on the wineglass tightened.
"You know…" Cleven whispered beside him. "My two brothers are terribly slow. The eldest is buried in books, the second in swordplay. I'm the only one with a brain."
Luren scowled. "What are you going on about?"
Cleven smirked. "Craige doesn't even realize he's being seduced. And you? You don't
realize you're in love."
Luren's eyes widened. "What the hell are you talking about, Cleven?" he snapped, face
turning red.
"I can help you," Cleven said with a devilish grin. "You know why this is called the Midnight Ball?"
Luren blinked. "No. Why?"
"Because when the clock strikes twelve, all the lights turn off for exactly one minute.
That's when guests are supposed to kiss their dance partners."
Luren's heart skipped a beat. He glanced toward Craige and Karin, and then at the grand clock. Only ten minutes left. The music was still playing.
"No way…" he breathed.
Cleven laughed at his flustered expression, grabbed his hand, and pulled him toward
the dance floor.
"Wait…what are you doing?!"
"It's your turn to get what you want. Let's switch Craige's partner," Cleven winked.
They danced near Craige and Karin, who noticed their sudden appearance.
"What are you doing here?" Craige asked, caught off guard.
"Dancing," Cleven said smugly, then gave him a wink.
Craige's chest tightened. He knew what would happen at midnight. He had planned to step away before the lights went out, but now, with Luren and Cleven so close, he
could sense mischief.
His eyes met Luren's. But Luren quickly looked away.
What's going on now? Craige wondered, confused and tense.
"Brother," Cleven called softly just as the lights began to dim. As if understanding his
brother's intent, Craige instinctively reached for Luren's arm, and Cleven smoothly took Karin by the wrist. In an instant, the partners were switched.
"Lure—" Craige began, but before he could say anything more, Luren threw his arms
around Craige's neck and kissed him.
Craige froze. The sweet, familiar scent of Luren wrapped around him. Their lips met,
warm and trembling. For a moment, it felt like the world had disappeared.
Luren's cheeks burned, but he didn't pull away. His heart was thundering in his chest.
He couldn't believe what he'd just done, but he was happy. He had kissed Craige, not the prince.
Just as he was about to break the kiss, Craige pulled him closer by the waist. His hand slid to the small of Luren's back as he deepened the kiss. His lips parted,
inviting, and Luren gasped softly, breathless and dazed.
Was this what kissing really felt like?
It was overwhelming… and perfect.
The lights flickered back on.
The room erupted in laughter, cheers, and surprised chatter from the other guests, some embarrassed, some breathless from stolen kisses. But amid the soft glow of
chandeliers and strings of floating lanterns, Craige and Luren stood frozen in each other's arms.
Luren's lips tingled, and his eyes slowly fluttered open. He was still so close to
Craige that he could see the flecks of gold in his eyes, could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest.
Then it hit him, what he just did.
He abruptly stepped back, his face turning a deep crimson. "I—uh—I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"
Craige caught his wrist gently, not letting him flee.
"No," he said, his voice low and calm, almost... warm. "You meant it."
Luren's breath caught. He couldn't look at him. Not directly. He felt vulnerable, exposed.
"I shouldn't have—" he started again.
"But you did," Craige interrupted, his fingers brushing against Luren's hand. "And I...
didn't stop you."
Their eyes finally met.
Luren expected judgment. Confusion. Even anger. But what he saw in Craige's eyes was
none of that. It was wonder. Curiosity. A deep stirring that scared Luren more than any rejection.