《Evouraí- A Love that never fades》 ONE "I¡¯m not going to the ball.¡± Theo¡¯s voice was sharp, final. "It¡¯s full of snobbish, foolish royals who only know how to flaunt their wealth, pretend their power is absolute, while they turn a blind eye to their own people. They talk like the world is theirs.¡± His mother, the Queen, sat in silence, her hands folded in her lap, watching him with that infuriating calmness she always carried. Theo scoffed at himself. Of course, she wouldn''t argue¡ªhe wasn¡¯t important enough to argue with. "I¡¯m not the heir. I don¡¯t matter." His voice dropped, bitter. "So why does it matter if I go?¡± She didn¡¯t answer before he turned on his heel and slammed the door. --- But hours later, he was at the ball. Dragged from his walk to the Harrington Royal Library, forced into a sleek black car with guards who didn¡¯t even bother explaining. His father¡¯s orders. Now, Theo stood at the edge of the grand ballroom, a glass of champagne sweating in his grip, his jaw tight with resentment. The room was too much. The chandeliers dripped with gold and light, spilling onto marble floors so polished he could see his own scowl reflected in them. Silk and jewels swayed with every movement¡ªduchesses draped in diamonds, princes in their finest embroidered suits, whispering, scheming, laughing behind glasses of expensive wine. The air was thick with perfume and politics. Laughter rang through the hall¡ªsharp, artificial, laced with arrogance. Every conversation was the same: their kingdoms, their estates, their wealth. Whose daughter would marry which prince. Which alliances would be made. Theo took a sip of champagne. It was sweet, bubbling, suffocating. He hated being here. He hated the way these people spoke like the world was just another piece on their gilded chessboard. He hated how none of them cared that outside these palace walls, people struggled, starved, fought to survive. His fingers tightened around the glass. He was drowning in a sea of people he wanted nothing to do with. And then¡ª A ripple in the crowd. A shift in energy. A name spoken with reverence. Cassius. Theo¡¯s breath caught, his pulse stuttering before he could stop it. And when he looked up¡ªthere he was. "His Royal Highness, Prince Cassius Edmund Arthur Hartwell, Crown Prince of Ravensford " The name rolled through the hall like a decree, a name wrapped in power, in legacy. Theo looked up. And there he was. Blue eyes like glacial water, golden hair sleek under the glow of the chandeliers, a royal blue coat embroidered with silver threads. He looked effortless. Untouchable. Every inch the perfect prince. His fingers clenched around the stem of his champagne glass. Without realizing, his eyes followed Cassius down the stairs. Then¡ª A voice. Low. Smooth. Rich like velvet. Cassius was near. Speaking. Laughing softly at something. The sound curled around Theo¡¯s spine, warm. His chest tightened, his breath caught. And then Cassius turned. Their eyes met. He quickly turn away. What''s the hell it''s wrong with you, Theo? He needed to leave. Now. His fingers curled into fists. And then¡ª A voice. Low. Rough. Deep¡ªbut soft around the edges. "Isn¡¯t it suffocating inside?" Theo turned. Cassius shifted, turning toward him slightly. "I¡¯m Cassius," he said easily, offering his hand. Theo looked at it. Then at him. Deadpan. Unamused. "Don¡¯t your parents tell you to stay a fucking mile away from me?" Cassius blinked. "Sorry?" Theo exhaled, exhausted already. "Aren¡¯t you the brilliant one? The golden son? The perfect fucking score of TED? Do I need to spell it out for you?" His voice was sharp, cruel¡ªdefensive. But his pulse betrayed him, pounding hard beneath his skin. Cassius said nothing. Theo scoffed. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. "Or is there something wrong with your head? I¡¯m Theodore. Son of Harrington. The one you¡¯re supposed to hate. The one you¡¯re not supposed to talk to, not even supposed to look at." His voice dropped lower, colder. "You hate me. I hate you. That¡¯s how our parents raised us." He stepped closer, so close he could see the flicker in Cassius¡¯s unreadable expression. "So get the fuck out of my sight." Cassius didn¡¯t move. Didn¡¯t step back. If anything, he studied Theo closer. So this was Theodore. The boy behind every debate, every publication, every controversy. The name whispered among intellectuals, printed in bold headlines. "THEODORE HARRINGTON: THE REBEL PRINCE WHO DEFIES TRADITION." "HIS MIND IS HIS WEAPON¡ªBUT WILL IT COST HIM EVERYTHING?" Cassius knew him. Of course he did. Everyone did. Theo was brilliant. Untouchable. Ruthless in intellect, fierce in conviction. His name didn¡¯t just belong to Harrington ¡ªit belonged to lectures and debates, to scathing articles that tore apart outdated policies, to the quiet revolutionaries who quoted his words like scripture. And yet¡ª Cassius had never been allowed to meet him. The first rule of being a Hartwell was simple: Never acknowledge a Harrington. His father had drilled it into him since childhood. They are liars. Thieves. They built their empire with stolen wealth, stolen lands. They are the enemy. And yet¡ª Cassius had read everything. Watched every speech, every debate. He knew how Theo thought. How he argued. How he refused to bow. And here he was, standing in front of him. Furious. Beautiful. Daring Cassius to walk away. Cassius tilted his head, a slow smirk curling at the corner of his lips. "You think I hate you?" Theo stiffened. Something in his eyes flickered. Cassius took a step closer, his voice quiet but unwavering. "You¡¯ve been on my mind for years, Theodore. And not once have I hated you." Theo¡¯s glare didn¡¯t waver. But his breath hitched. Cassius saw it¡ªthe slight hitch in his chest, the way his fingers twitched at his sides. Like he hadn¡¯t expected those words. Like he didn¡¯t know how to react to them. Cassius took another step closer, slow, measured. "You think I don¡¯t know you?" Theo¡¯s jaw clenched, but Cassius didn¡¯t stop. "You¡¯re the youngest speaker at the Global Policy Summit¡ªyour speech on modernizing monarchy law made headlines worldwide." A pause. "You rejected every diplomatic engagement your family arranged for you because you¡¯d rather be at the Harrington Royal Library, studying ancient civilizations instead of sipping champagne with dignitaries." Theo¡¯s fingers curled into fists. "You dismantled Lord Ellingham¡¯s outdated trade policies in a single debate." Cassius let out a small, amused breath. "Called him a relic on national television. The royal courts were furious." A muscle in Theo¡¯s jaw ticked. "You fund underground literacy programs in South Bellemont. Speak at universities. You refuse titles. You refuse wealth. You refuse to let them make you something you¡¯re not." Cassius tilted his head, studying the storm behind Theo¡¯s dark eyes. "You fight. Relentlessly." A beat. "And you expect me to believe you don¡¯t know why I¡¯m standing here?" Theo¡¯s breath came faster now, his chest rising and falling with barely contained frustration. No one ever met him like this. No one ever knew everything. No one ever said it out loud. "Shut up," Theo snapped, voice lower now, rawer. Cassius only smirked. "Make me." Theo¡¯s breath hitched again, but this time, Cassius didn¡¯t stop. He stepped even closer, his voice steady, unwavering. "Or what? You¡¯ll scowl at me? Glare at me until I disappear?" Cassius let out a small breath of laughter. "You¡¯re going to have to do better than that, Harrington." Theo stiffened, but Cassius could see it now¡ªthe cracks forming, the sharp edges that weren¡¯t as unshakable as he wanted them to be. "You think I don¡¯t know what you stand for?" Cassius continued, his tone turning sharper. "You stood at the Global Economic Forum and called out the entire system. Said, ¡®The poor are designed to stay poor while the rich build monuments to their own legacies.¡¯" Theo¡¯s eyes flashed. "You said, ¡®We pretend to rule with grace, but all we¡¯ve done is build palaces while our people starve at the gates.¡¯" Silence. A thick, heavy silence that pressed between them, filled with the weight of words that shouldn¡¯t have been spoken aloud. Cassius tilted his head. "And yet, here you are, standing in another palace, pretending you¡¯re any different from the rest of us." Theo hated him in that moment. Because Cassius wasn¡¯t afraid. He wasn¡¯t like the others who dismissed Theo, who sneered at his rebellion or whispered behind his back. No. Cassius knew exactly who he was. Knew exactly what he had said, what he had fought for, what he believed in. And he wasn¡¯t looking at him with disdain. He wasn¡¯t looking at him with admiration either. He was challenging him. Theo¡¯s breath was uneven now, his heart racing against his ribs. "You don¡¯t know a damn thing about me," Theo muttered, voice rough, defensive. Cassius just smiled. A slow, knowing smile. "Don¡¯t I?" Theo let out a breathy, humorless laugh. "And look at you," he drawled, tilting his head, masking every bit of his unease with sharp, biting sarcasm. "The golden boy of Ravensford, standing here lecturing me like you¡¯re any better." Cassius¡¯s smirk didn¡¯t waver. "I never said I was better." Theo scoffed. "No? You just follow the rules. Smile for the cameras. Wear the perfect suit, shake the right hands, bow at the right moments¡ª" He gestured vaguely at Cassius¡¯s pristine, polished perfection. "A model prince. A puppet, strung up by duty and legacy." Cassius¡¯s expression didn¡¯t change, but Theo saw it¡ªthe flicker. The almost imperceptible tightening of his jaw. Theo smirked, stepping closer now, throwing the weight of his words back at him. "So tell me, Your Highness¡ªwhat¡¯s it like? Knowing you¡¯ll never be anything more than exactly what they tell you to be?" Cassius exhaled, long and slow, before answering. "What¡¯s it like pretending you don¡¯t care what I think of you?" Theo¡¯s smirk faltered for a split second. Cassius¡¯s lips curled slightly. He had him now. "You think I don¡¯t see it? How badly you want to hate me? How much it¡¯s eating you up that you can¡¯t?" Theo¡¯s throat tightened. His fingers curled into his palm. He needed to leave. Now. Before he let Cassius see more than he already had. Theo narrowed his eyes, stepping even closer, his voice lowering into something cold, sharp, deliberate. "That¡¯s cute," he said, tilting his head mockingly. "You think I care what you see?" Cassius didn¡¯t answer. Theo smirked. Good. He wanted him to feel this. "You talk like you have a mind of your own, like you¡¯re above all this pomp and ceremony." He gestured vaguely at the ballroom behind them, at the glittering chandeliers, the silk-lined walls, everything Cassius belonged to. "But let¡¯s be honest, Cassius." Theo¡¯s voice dripped with something almost sweet¡ªalmost cruel. "You don¡¯t make choices. You don¡¯t fight for anything. You don¡¯t speak unless they tell you to." Cassius¡¯s expression didn¡¯t change, but Theo saw it¡ªthe flicker in his gaze. That barely-there tightening around his mouth. Theo leaned in, just enough to twist the knife deeper. "You smile when they say smile. Bow when they say bow. Parade yourself around like some perfect, obedient little prince, and you call that a life?" Cassius¡¯s jaw locked. "I never said¡ª" "You never said anything." Theo cut him off smoothly. "That¡¯s the whole point, isn¡¯t it?" Silence. A thick, charged silence where Theo could feel the weight of every unspoken word between them. Theo tilted his head, smirking. "I may be reckless, but at least I own myself. Can you say the same, Hartwell?" Cassius exhaled, steady, controlled¡ªbut Theo knew he¡¯d hit something. Finally, finally, he turned, stepping away. "That¡¯s what I thought." And then, without another glance, Theo disappeared into the night. Cassius stood frozen for a moment, the sting of Theo¡¯s words still echoing in his chest. He should let him go. Let the bastard walk away, spitting insults like he was some kind of martyr. But Theo was wrong. So wrong. Cassius couldn¡¯t let it end like that. With a sharp exhale, he pushed through the crowd, his footsteps quickening as he caught sight of Theo disappearing through the palace¡¯s grand doors, the weight of his own frustration pulling him forward. ¡°Theo!¡± His voice was low, a command that sliced through the noise of the ballroom. Theo didn¡¯t stop. Didn¡¯t even flinch. Cassius reached him before he could escape into the shadows of the palace courtyard. He grabbed Theo¡¯s arm, his fingers tightening in a grip that held more than just anger. Theo spun around, eyes flaring with surprise¡ªand maybe something else, something more raw than he cared to admit. "What the hell do you want?" Theo snapped, yanking his arm away. Cassius stepped closer, his breath sharp with the same fire that burned in his chest. "You think you know me?" He shook his head, his voice steady but low, like the growl of a lion ready to strike. "You don¡¯t know a damn thing about me, Theo." Theo¡¯s lips parted, but Cassius wasn¡¯t done. "You don¡¯t know what it¡¯s like to be the heir to a throne, to be expected to be perfect¡ªto play the part so everyone can call you ''golden.'' You think I don¡¯t have a mind of my own? You think I don¡¯t want something more than this?" His voice cracked just a little, despite his best efforts to keep it steady. "I don¡¯t have a choice, Theo." His eyes hardened. "You have the luxury of being the ''rebel prince.'' You get to pick your battles, say what you want, and the world eats it up. But I don¡¯t have that freedom. Not like you." Theo stood motionless, caught between anger and something that felt like regret creeping into his chest. He could hear it in Cassius¡¯s voice¡ªthe restraint, the rawness. Cassius clenched his jaw. "So don''t you dare tell me I¡¯m some puppet, not when you have no idea what it¡¯s like to be born into a family that only cares about appearances. You think you¡¯re the only one who wants to be more than just a crown?" Theo¡¯s eyes flickered. Something cracked. Cassius wasn¡¯t finished. "You think I want to be another perfect prince? Another figurehead for their legacy?" His voice rose, louder now, but it wasn¡¯t anger¡ªit was the sharp edge of someone who was tired of being misunderstood. "I didn¡¯t ask for this, Theo. I didn¡¯t ask to be the perfect little puppet they parade around, but that¡¯s what I have to be to protect what¡¯s left of my family." Theo opened his mouth to say something, but no words came. Cassius, breathing hard now, looked at him, eyes dark and piercing. "So yeah, maybe I play the part. But at least I¡¯m trying to make a difference in my own way. At least I¡¯m not hiding behind my rebellion like it¡¯s a shield." The silence between them was suffocating. Neither one of them moved. Neither one of them knew what to say next. Finally, Theo swallowed. He wanted to say something cutting, something that would make Cassius back off. But for the first time, there was a weight behind his words that made him hesitate. "I never said I had it easy either," Theo muttered, voice quieter now, softer. "But you don¡¯t know me. You don¡¯t know what I¡¯ve been through." Cassius nodded slowly. "Maybe I don¡¯t." His voice was raw, vulnerable now, as he took a step back. "But I do know this¡ªdon¡¯t tell me who I am when you have no idea what it¡¯s like to be me." And with that, Cassius turned, leaving Theo standing there, in the moonlight, staring after him with a feeling he couldn¡¯t quite name. Theo stood there, watching Cassius disappear back into the palace, his figure swallowed by the golden glow of the chandeliers and the murmuring of the oblivious crowd inside. The night air was cool against his skin, but it did nothing to ease the heat still burning in his chest. His hands clenched at his sides, his breath uneven. "You don¡¯t know what it¡¯s like to be me." Cassius¡¯s words echoed in his mind, over and over, like a melody he couldn¡¯t shake. Theo had wanted to cut him down, to prove that Cassius Edmund Arthur Hartwell exactly what the world believed him to be¡ªa perfect, polished, obedient prince. A puppet. A golden son molded to be admired but never truly known. And yet¡­ Theo had seen the flicker in his eyes. The anger. The frustration. The exhaustion. He hadn¡¯t expected Cassius to fight back. Not like that. His heels clicked against the marble floor as he walked toward the palace doors, his own reflection catching in the grand mirrors lining the hallway. He looked composed, indifferent even, but inside, something felt off-kilter. Like Cassius had knocked something loose. It wasn¡¯t just the words. It was the way Cassius had said them¡ªlike he had been waiting for someone to finally ask him who he really was. Theo hated it. Hated that he was still thinking about it. Hated that, for the first time in his life, he wasn¡¯t sure if he had been right. With a sharp inhale, he straightened his posture, forcing himself back into the role he knew best¡ªthe rebel, the untamed prince, the one who didn¡¯t care. But as he made his way through the grand halls, the thought lingered, sinking its teeth into his mind. Maybe he and Cassius weren¡¯t so different after all. TWO Morning in Bellemont arrived with a quiet hum beneath the grandeur. Servants and officials moved with purpose, ensuring every detail was perfect for the official announcement¡ªthe moment King Alistair would name his heir. Theo, however, paid no mind to the preparations. While the palace bustled around him, he was seated in the library, immersed in another book on ancient history. He flipped through the pages absently, his mind half-focused on the words, half on the notes stored on his iPad¡ªplans for his next project with the Kensington Volunteer Initiative. It was better to keep busy. Better than thinking about what today meant. When he finally stepped out into the corridor, he caught sight of Edric ahead, speaking with an advisor. Without thinking, Theo approached. His brother turned at his presence, brows lifting slightly. Theo held his gaze. ¡°Would you care about our people once you become the king?¡± It was the only thing he said before walking away. He didn¡¯t wait for an answer. --- The garden had always been his refuge¡ªa place where titles and expectations blurred into the background, if only for a little while. He settled onto a stone bench, pulling up his iPad again, scrolling through his notes. Double-checking details for the shelters, making sure everything was on track. Footsteps interrupted his focus. Theo didn¡¯t look up. ¡°If you¡¯re here to talk about my attitude, don¡¯t waste your breath.¡± ¡°I was going to ask how you¡¯re doing,¡± Edric said, settling beside him. Theo let out a sharp laugh. ¡°Since when do you ask?¡± Edric sighed. ¡°Theo¡ª¡± ¡°I lost a mother and father already.¡± Theo¡¯s voice was quiet, but edged with something deeper, something raw. He turned to his brother, meeting his gaze with an unwavering stare. ¡°But when I lost the only person I had left¡ªthe one person I needed most¡ª I realized something.¡± His grip on his iPad tightened. ¡°I wasn¡¯t born into a family. I was born into royalty. So there¡¯s no mother. No father. And no brother.¡± Edric looked away, jaw tightening. ¡°You know that¡¯s not true.¡± Theo scoffed, shaking his head. ¡°Do I?¡± The silence between them stretched, heavy with things unsaid. Finally, Edric stood. ¡°I have duties, Theo. That doesn¡¯t mean I don¡¯t care.¡± Theo didn¡¯t reply. And Edric left. --- The grand hall of Harrington Palace was bathed in golden light, chandeliers casting a regal glow over the sea of nobles, politicians, and dignitaries gathered for the announcement. Every detail was perfect¡ªpristine white florals lining the stage, banners bearing the Harrington crest draped across the marble walls, and a palpable sense of history being made. Theo stood among them, unseen yet present. He hadn''t wanted to come, but despite everything, he was still here. Silent, distant, but here. He watched as his brother stood before the crowd, standing tall like the future king he was meant to be. The room quieted as the king stepped forward. "In every generation, there comes a time when the kingdom must look ahead¡ªto its future, its legacy, and its leader. Today, I stand before you not just as your king but as a father, passing down this sacred duty to the one chosen to carry the weight of the crown." A pause. A moment of suspense. "Prince Edric Alexander Leon Harrington is hereby named the official heir to the throne." Applause erupted through the hall, a wave of cheers and admiration sweeping over the crowd. Theo remained still, his expression unreadable. Edric stepped up to speak, his gaze briefly searching the room. Searching for him. Theo looked away. "My father has placed his trust in me to lead, and I will not take this responsibility lightly," Edric began, his voice steady, commanding. "I know what history demands of a king. Strength. Wisdom. Legacy." A pause. A breath. "But I also know that power means nothing if it does not serve the people." Theo''s eyes flicked up. "I was reminded of this today," Edric continued. "Reminded that a king should never let his people down. That he should never forget the weight of their struggles. That is a promise I will uphold¡ªnot just as a ruler, but as someone who stands beside them." Theo exhaled slowly. He hadn''t expected that. It was his own words, spoken hours ago in the hallway, now echoed back in front of the entire kingdom. Edric had listened. More than that¡ªhe had made it a vow. For the first time in years, Theo wasn¡¯t sure what to feel. --- The banquet that followed was a display of power¡ªHarrington¡¯s allies gathered, voices raised in laughter and conversation, toasting to the future. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Theo, however, had no interest in the spectacle. He slipped away unnoticed, making his way back to the garden. Pulling out his phone, he scrolled through his playlist, pressing play on the one song that had always pulled him away from reality. As the melody filled his ears, he let himself drown in it. He closed his eyes, exhaling slowly, letting the night air cool the heat lingering in his chest. He hadn¡¯t expected Edric¡¯s words to affect him. He hadn¡¯t expected Cass to haunt him either. But there it was. A single lyric in his favorite song had yanked him back to last night¡ªCass¡¯s sharp gaze, the subtle tension in his posture, the way his presence had unsettled Theo in a way nothing else had in years. It wasn¡¯t just the argument that stuck with him; it was the feeling. A feeling he couldn¡¯t name, one that refused to fade. Why? Theo rubbed his temple, as if that could erase the thoughts creeping in. He didn¡¯t know Cass, yet his body¡ªhis mind¡ªreacted as if he did. As if they had history that didn¡¯t exist. A rustle nearby snapped him out of his thoughts. Footsteps, light but deliberate. Someone was coming. Theo sighed. ¡°If you¡¯re here to drag me back inside, don¡¯t bother.¡± But when he turned, it wasn¡¯t a palace servant or one of his cousins. It was him. Cass stood there, hands in his pockets, gaze unreadable. ¡°You always sneak out of royal dinners?¡± Theo tensed, pulse skipping. Of course it¡¯s him. Theo didn''t even glance up. "And you always show up where you''re not wanted." Cass chuckled, stepping closer. "Come on, you¡¯re not enjoying your dear brother''s big night?" Theo finally looked at him, eyes sharp with sarcasm. "Oh, I did my part. Clapped in all the right moments, nodded when necessary. That¡¯s enough, don¡¯t you think?" Cass hummed as if considering. "And yet, here you are. Alone. In the dark." Theo scoffed, standing up. "Some of us prefer silence over empty words." Cass smirked. "Funny. I don''t remember you being this bitter when we first met." Theo''s jaw tightened. "Yeah, well. People change." Cass didn''t move as Theo brushed past him, but the lingering air between them crackled with something unspoken¡ªsomething heavier than just sarcasm. Cass, of course, didn¡¯t take the hint. Instead, he fell into step beside Theo, hands still tucked into his pockets like he had all the time in the world. "Where are we going?" Cass asked, amusement laced in his tone. Theo shot him a glare. "We aren¡¯t going anywhere. I am leaving. You¡¯re just following like a lost dog." Cass let out a soft chuckle. "Well, you keep talking to me, so I figured you wanted the company." Theo scoffed. "I talk to a lot of things that annoy me¡ªbroken elevators, bad weather, you." Cass hummed, pretending to consider that. "So I¡¯m in the same category as a malfunctioning machine. Interesting." Theo rolled his eyes, but the sarcasm in his voice had lost its bite. Somewhere along the way, without realizing it, he had fallen into an actual conversation with Cass. He hated that. Hated how effortlessly Cass slipped past his walls, how he made it seem natural¡ªlike they¡¯d always done this. They reached the far end of the garden, where the city lights flickered beyond the palace walls. Theo exhaled, pressing his palms against the cool railing. Cass leaned beside him. "So, are you going to pretend you don¡¯t remember me from last night?" Theo stiffened. He did remember¡ªtoo well. The argument. The tension. The way Cass had looked at him like he was trying to figure him out. "You¡¯re assuming I care enough to pretend," Theo muttered. Cass just smiled. "See? You do like talking to me." Theo groaned. "I swear to God, I will push you off this balcony." Cass laughed, and for some reason, the sound wasn¡¯t as annoying as Theo expected. Theo tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing as he glanced at Cass. "Why are you out here, anyway? Shouldn¡¯t you be inside, playing the part of the perfect prince? Shaking hands, smiling like you actually enjoy it?" Cass didn¡¯t answer immediately. His gaze drifted beyond the palace walls, to the distant city lights flickering against the night sky. "I could ask you the same thing," he finally said. His voice was light, but there was something underneath¡ªsomething careful. Theo scoffed. "Oh, please. I¡¯m not supposed to be anywhere. I¡¯m not the future king. No one cares where I am." Cass turned toward him then, and Theo caught a flicker of something in his expression¡ªsomething almost understanding. Almost. "You really believe that?" Cass asked. Theo looked away. He hated that question. He hated how it made him feel¡ªlike someone was peeling back layers he¡¯d spent years carefully putting in place. "Don¡¯t change the subject," he muttered. "You, Prince Cassius, are supposed to be in there, flashing that charming smile. So why are you here?" Cass hesitated. Then, with a small shrug, he said, "Too many people." Theo frowned. That wasn¡¯t the answer he expected. Cass let out a slow breath. "It¡¯s suffocating, sometimes. The expectations. The noise. Everyone watching, waiting for you to be exactly who they want you to be." He let out a small chuckle, but it lacked humor. "I just needed a moment to breathe." Theo studied him, trying to decide if he believed him. Cass was always so put together, so effortlessly composed. It was hard to imagine him feeling trapped¡ªbut then again, Theo knew what it was like to wear a mask. For a brief second, something almost like understanding passed between them. But Theo refused to acknowledge it. Instead, he smirked. "So, the perfect Prince Cassius gets overwhelmed. Who would¡¯ve thought?" Cass rolled his eyes. "You really can¡¯t help yourself, can you?" Theo shrugged. "Nope." Cass let out a slow breath, shaking his head slightly. "You have a talent for being insufferable." Theo smirked. "And you have a talent for dodging questions." Cass arched a brow. "I answered your question." "Not properly," Theo countered. "You gave me the polished version¡ª''too many people, too much noise''¡ªbut that¡¯s not the real reason you¡¯re out here, is it?" Cass looked away, as if considering whether to bother with the truth. Theo leaned back against the bench, watching him. "Come on, Your Highness. Since when do you run from a little attention? I thought you liked it. The adoring smiles, the carefully curated reputation, the whole ¡®perfect prince¡¯ act." Cass exhaled through his nose, the hint of a smile ghosting his lips. "You really don¡¯t hold back, do you?" Theo shrugged. "Why would I?" For a moment, neither of them spoke. The night air was cool, the distant hum of the city blending with the rustling leaves. Then, Cass spoke¡ªsofter this time. "And what about you, Theo? Why are you out here?" Theo stiffened slightly. "I told you. No one cares where I am." Cass tilted his head. "That¡¯s not an answer." Theo shot him a look. "Oh, so you get to dodge questions, but I don¡¯t?" Cass gave a small, amused hum. "I suppose I deserved that." Theo scoffed, but before he could steer the conversation away, Cass said, "Edric does." Theo froze. Cass met his gaze. "Care where you are. He does." Something twisted in Theo¡¯s chest. He didn¡¯t like the way Cass said it¡ªlike it was a simple truth. Like it was something Theo should believe. A bitter smile curved Theo¡¯s lips. "If that¡¯s what you think, you really don¡¯t know anything about me." Cass studied him, quiet for a moment. "Maybe," he said finally. "Or maybe you don¡¯t know as much about Edric as you think you do." Theo''s fingers curled slightly on his lap. He was about to snap back¡ªsomething sharp, something to cut this conversation short¡ªwhen a voice called from the distance. "Your Highness?" Cass sighed. "And there it is." Theo watched as Cass straightened, his mask slipping back into place with ease. The perfect prince, the one everyone expected him to be. Cass turned to him one last time. "Looks like I¡¯m needed." Theo rolled his eyes. "Tragic." Cass smirked, but as he walked away, Theo found himself watching him longer than he meant to. And that annoyed him most of all. A sudden burst of laughter from inside the palace broke Theo out of his thoughts. He exhaled, running a hand through his hair before finally standing. Enough of this. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he made his way back toward the hall, slipping in through one of the side entrances. The moment he stepped inside, the air felt heavier¡ªfilled with the hum of conversation, the clinking of glasses, the carefully curated world of royalty. And there they were. King Alistair, standing beside King Edward, Cass''s father, both of them beaming with pride. Talking loudly, toasting their heirs, basking in the spotlight as if they themselves hadn¡¯t spent years clawing their way to it. Theo¡¯s gaze flickered to Edric. He was standing there, composed, regal¡ªevery bit the future king. He looked untouchable. Unshakable. Theo felt something bitter rise in his throat. He grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing tray and took a slow sip, letting the bubbles burn his tongue. It was going to be a long night. ¡°Of course, not every prince is meant for the throne,¡± King Edward¡¯s voice cut through the room, smooth and pointed. His eyes landed on Theo. ¡°Some¡­ serve better in other ways.¡± A few nobles chuckled politely. Others avoided looking at Theo entirely. Theo clenched his jaw. But before he could summon a retort¡ª ¡°I wouldn¡¯t underestimate him, Your Majesty.¡± The voice was clear. Firm. Cass. Theo¡¯s head snapped toward him, but Cass wasn¡¯t looking at him¡ªhis gaze was on his father, unwavering. Edric spoke next, calm but steady. ¡°Theo has done more for our people than most of the nobility combined.¡± King Edward¡¯s smile faltered. Just slightly. Cass, his Golden Son, standing up for him? Theo barely registered the rest of the conversation. Even when things shifted back to pleasantries, his mind still reeled. Not only had Edric defended him. Cassius had, too. --- Theo stood by the grand windows, his champagne glass loosely held in his fingers, eyes fixed on the city lights stretching beyond the palace grounds. The distant glow blurred as his thoughts tangled together. King Edward¡¯s words still echoed in his mind, sharp and deliberate, meant to remind him of his place. But what lingered more¡ªwhat unsettled him¡ªwas that Cassius, of all people, had stood up for him. He exhaled slowly, trying to make sense of it. Cass had no reason to get involved. No reason to care. And yet, he had. A quiet presence beside him pulled him from his thoughts. Edric. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Theo expected another rehearsed line, something diplomatic, something kingly. But instead, Edric only said, ¡°You shouldn¡¯t listen to him.¡± Theo scoffed, swirling the champagne in his glass. ¡°Which ¡®him¡¯?¡± Edric gave a knowing look but didn¡¯t answer. He reached out, a brief squeeze on Theo¡¯s shoulder¡ªa rare gesture of comfort¡ªbefore stepping away, leaving him alone once more. Or so he thought. ¡°I never took you for someone who broods,¡± Cass¡¯s voice came from behind him, light but laced with something unreadable. Theo didn¡¯t turn. ¡°And I never took you for someone who stands up for me.¡± Cass stepped closer, standing beside him but not looking at him. ¡°Must be a night of surprises, then.¡± Theo let out a dry laugh. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re suddenly on my side.¡± Cass smirked. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t go that far.¡± Theo finally glanced at him, catching the way Cass¡¯s expression flickered¡ªsomething amused, something calculating, something almost curious. He hated it. He hated that, for the first time in years, someone had thrown him off balance. The city lights stretched on, steady and constant. But something in Theo¡¯s world had shifted. And he wasn¡¯t sure if he liked it. --- THREE The air inside the shelter carried the scent of antiseptic and warm bread, the usual mix of comfort and necessity. Theo barely glanced up from the supply list on his iPad, mind focused on distributing rations and organizing aid. Outside, the noise of the city hummed steadily¡ªbuses screeching, vendors calling, distant chatter blending into the heartbeat of Bellemont. Everything was running smoothly. For once. Then, a scent¡ªsubtle but familiar¡ªdrifted past him. Theo didn¡¯t need to turn around to know. Sandalwood and citrus, clean and sharp, laced with something unmistakably Cassius. He forced himself to ignore it. But, of course, ignoring Cass was impossible. ¡°Busy as always, I see.¡± Theo sighed through his nose, fingers tightening around the iPad. ¡°If you¡¯re here to help, grab a clipboard. If not, leave.¡± Cass grinned, unfazed, and plucked a clipboard from the nearest table as if it had been his idea all along. ¡°Well, since you insist.¡± Theo gave him a flat look. ¡°That wasn¡¯t an invitation.¡± Cass ignored him, scanning the volunteer lists with an exaggerated hum. ¡°You know, I didn¡¯t take you for the clipboard type. Thought you¡¯d be more of a ¡®scream orders and storm off dramatically¡¯ kind of leader.¡± Theo huffed. ¡°You don¡¯t know me.¡± Cass¡¯s smirk didn¡¯t waver. ¡°Maybe.¡± His eyes flicked over the shelter, taking in the neatly arranged food stations, the stacks of medical supplies, the organized rows of blankets. ¡°You run this place like a machine.¡± Theo ignored the way something in his chest tightened at the words. Instead, he muttered, ¡°Someone has to.¡± Before Cass could reply, movement outside caught Theo¡¯s attention. A shift in the energy¡ªsubtle at first, but growing. Then came the voices. Low murmurs at first. Then, a ripple of excitement. Theo knew exactly what was happening before he even turned around. The crowd had noticed him. Or rather¡ªThe Golden Prince. Cass¡¯s presence had been subtle at first, but now, it was unmistakable. The whispers grew into murmurs, murmurs into movement, until the shelter¡¯s quiet efficiency was broken by a growing group of onlookers pressing closer. Phones lifted. People called out. Some were curious, some awed, others skeptical¡ªbut all of them were looking. Theo¡¯s jaw clenched. This wasn¡¯t supposed to happen. ¡°This is exactly why I told you to stay away,¡± Theo snapped under his breath, stepping closer to Cass. ¡°This isn¡¯t your royal meet-and-greet. People don¡¯t need a damn spectacle; they need help.¡± Cass¡¯s expression barely shifted, but there was something in his gaze¡ªsomething unreadable. ¡°You think I don¡¯t know that?¡± Theo scoffed. ¡°Really? Because it looks like you¡¯re enjoying this.¡± He gestured sharply to the crowd. ¡°Congratulations, Your Highness. You just turned a relief shelter into another photo op.¡± Cass¡¯s smirk faded. Just slightly. ¡°I didn¡¯t ask for this.¡± ¡°No,¡± Theo muttered. ¡°But you never stop it, either.¡± The tension between them thickened, unspoken words hanging between the noise. Then¡ª A sound cut through. A different kind of shift in the crowd. The murmurs changed¡ªexcitement twisting into something else. Something darker. Theo turned just in time to see it. A small argument near the entrance had escalated. A shove. Raised voices. More movement¡ªtoo much, too fast. Then¡ª Chaos. A riot. The shelter, once a haven, was about to become something else entirely. And neither of them were ready for what was coming. The tension in the air shifted¡ªelectric, volatile. Theo could feel it before he saw it. The crowd surged. Chaos erupted, spilling outward like water through shattered glass. Someone threw something¡ªhe didn¡¯t see what. A cup, a bottle, a fist¡ªdoes it matter? It flew, and the crowd swallowed the moment whole. The people at the back surged forward. The ones in the front tried to escape. The shelter, once a haven, became a wave of movement too fast to predict, too loud to stop. Theo moved on instinct. He reached for Cass. ¡°Stay back¡ª¡± Too late. Cassius had already stepped forward, arms raised¡ªnot in surrender, but in command. "This isn''t the time for this!" His voice cut through the air, clear and strong despite the growing storm. "We''re here to help¡ª" They did not listen. The voices drowned him out, a tide of desperation and fury. A woman shoved past, eyes wild. Someone else stumbled. A child cried out¡ªlost, alone¡ªTheo turned toward the sound, toward the movement, toward the place where things were about to break¡ª Then¡ª A sharp, bright pain. It bloomed fast, searing up his arm before his brain caught up. Theo hissed through his teeth. He turned his head, saw the crimson staining his sleeve, dark and spreading. Blood. The command in Theo¡¯s voice was sharp. "Get him inside. Now." His personal bodyguard didn¡¯t hesitate, moving to pull Cass away from the chaos. Cass barely registered it, barely felt the grip on his arm¡ªhis focus was locked on Theo. Theo, who was already moving forward. Theo, who had always thrown himself into danger without a second thought. Cass resisted, twisting slightly. ¡°Theo¡ª¡± But Theo wasn¡¯t listening. He was already disappearing into the chaos, pushing through the bodies, through the riot that had swallowed the shelter whole. Cass tried to follow. He barely made it a step before he saw it. The blood. It stood out in stark contrast against Theo¡¯s white shirt¡ªa deep, spreading stain across his sleeve, blooming like something unnatural. Cass stopped breathing. For a second¡ªjust a second¡ªhe wasn¡¯t here. The noise of the riot dulled. The crowd blurred. All he could see was the blood. It was on Theo¡¯s sleeve, but it wasn¡¯t just on his sleeve. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. It was on his own hands. Cassius tried to blink, tried to breathe, tried to make sense of the moment¡ªbut the world had gone wrong. He saw Theo. His mind shifted, slipped. His skin felt wrong, too thin, too fragile, like the world would rip through him if he let it. Theo turned, his face sharp with focus, his body alight with motion. His shirt, white as bone, was blooming red. Blood. Theo¡¯s lips moved¡ªwords, commands, orders¡ªbut Cassius couldn¡¯t hear them. The sound was muffled, distorted, like voices through water. He could only see the color. Crimson on pale. Cassius clenched his fists. He tried to move, but his body refused. His limbs were distant, uncooperative. The weight of something unseen pressed against his chest. Theo turned again, his eyes catching Cassius¡¯. Theo barely felt the sting of the wound. He was too focused¡ªon the volunteers, on the people still caught in the chaos outside. With sharp commands and steady hands, he guided them back inside the shelter, making sure no one was left behind. The shouts from the crowd still echoed beyond the doors, but here, inside, they were safe. For now. His chest rose and fell with deep, controlled breaths as he swept his gaze over the room. ¡°Anyone hurt?¡± His voice was firm, steady. ¡°Check for injuries. If you¡¯re bleeding, sit down. We have med¡ª¡± A sharp gasp cut through the air. ¡°Oh my god¡ªTheo, you¡¯re¡ª¡± Theo turned, frowning¡ªonly to realize everyone was staring at him. Or rather¡ªat his blood. It soaked into the white of his shirt, deep crimson against pale fabric. Someone whispered his name, fear laced in their voice. A volunteer reached toward him, wide-eyed. ¡°You¡¯re hurt¡ª¡± But Theo barely heard them. Because just beyond them, against the wall¡ªCass. Cass, pale. Cass, rigid. Cass, gasping for breath as if the air had been stolen from his lungs. Theo didn¡¯t think. He moved. He ignored the blood on his own body. Ignored the throbbing sting where glass had sliced him. None of it mattered. Because Cass¡ªCass wasn¡¯t breathing right. Theo crouched in front of him, voice cutting through the panic. ¡°Cass. Look at me.¡± No response. Cass¡¯s hands were clenched against his chest, his eyes unfocused, fixed on something that wasn¡¯t here. Theo swallowed. He had seen him argue, laugh, spit sarcasm like venom¡ªbut he had never seen Cass like this. ¡°Cass.¡± Softer this time. Steady. A hand on his shoulder. ¡°Breathe. You¡¯re safe.¡± Cass¡¯s breath hitched¡ªsharp, shallow. Theo pressed a little firmer. ¡°In. With me. One, two¡ª¡± Nothing. Theo¡¯s stomach twisted. He didn¡¯t know what was happening to Cass. He didn¡¯t know why. But he knew one thing¡ª Cass wasn¡¯t okay. Theo¡¯s grip on Cass¡¯s shoulder tightened. ¡°Cass,¡± he called again, firm but not unkind. Nothing. ¡°Cass, damn it¡ªlook at me.¡± Still no reaction. His chest rose and fell too fast, his hands still curled into tight fists. His pupils were unfocused, caught somewhere far from here. Theo clenched his jaw. One more time. ¡°Cassius!¡± His voice was sharp, half a yell, half a plea. Cass flinched¡ªand finally, his gaze snapped to Theo. ¡°There you are,¡± Theo muttered, steadying him with both hands now. ¡°I¡¯m here. Breathe.¡± Cass¡¯s breath was ragged, uneven. Theo exhaled slowly, deliberately. ¡°Follow me. In.¡± He took a deep breath, his own chest rising. ¡°Out.¡± He exhaled. Cass didn¡¯t move at first, his body still stiff, his breath still shallow. Theo did it again. ¡°In.¡± This time, Cass followed. It was shaky, but he did it. ¡°Good,¡± Theo murmured, nodding. ¡°Again. In.¡± Cass inhaled. ¡°Out.¡± Cass exhaled. Theo gave him a small nod. ¡°You¡¯re doing great.¡± Someone rushed forward, pressing a bottle of water into Theo¡¯s hand. He cracked the cap open and handed it to Cass, watching as he took slow sips. That was when Julien¡¯s voice broke through the haze. ¡°Your Highness, your wound¡ª¡± Theo blinked, as if remembering. He glanced down¡ªhis white shirt was stained deep crimson, the blood still fresh. He could feel the sting now, the delayed pain settling in. But Cass¡ª Theo turned back to him. ¡°You good?¡± Cass swallowed hard, nodding once. Theo didn¡¯t move for another second. Just watching him. Making sure. Then, finally, he pushed himself up, brushing off his bodyguard¡¯s concern. ¡°Stay here,¡± he told Cass, voice low. ¡°I¡¯ll be back.¡± And then he walked off, leaving behind bloody footprints. Theo returned after what felt like forever, his arm bandaged, his white shirt now a ruined mess of bloodstains and hastily cleaned fabric. The wound stung beneath the layers of gauze, but it wasn¡¯t deep. Not enough to slow him down. He found Cass exactly where he¡¯d left him. Sitting on one of the cots, hands clasped between his knees, head bowed. The half-empty water bottle dangled loosely from his fingers. His breathing was steadier now, but there was something distant in his expression. Theo exhaled and sat down beside him. Not too close. Just enough. Neither of them spoke at first. The shelter was quieter now¡ªonly murmurs of volunteers checking on each other, the occasional clatter of someone picking up fallen supplies. Outside, the riot had been contained, the crowd dispersed. But the tension in the air lingered, heavy and unshaken. Theo drummed his fingers lightly against his knee. ¡°You¡¯re still here.¡± Cass let out a small huff of laughter, humorless and quiet. ¡°You told me to stay.¡± Theo glanced at him, taking in the sharp edges of his profile. Even now¡ªafter everything¡ªCass still looked put together. Like a prince. Except for his eyes. There was something raw in them. Something cracked. Theo sighed and leaned back, stretching out his legs. His bandaged arm throbbed. ¡°Didn¡¯t think you¡¯d actually listen.¡± Cass turned his head slightly, giving him a sidelong glance. ¡°Neither did I.¡± Silence. Theo stared ahead, at nothing in particular. Then, after a beat¡ª ¡°You want to tell me what that was?¡± Cass didn¡¯t answer right away. His fingers curled around the water bottle, knuckles whitening for just a second. Then¡ª ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Theo turned to him fully now. ¡°Cass.¡± Cass let out a slow breath, shaking his head. ¡°I said I don¡¯t know.¡± His voice was quiet, but sharp at the edges. ¡°It just¡ªhappened.¡± Theo studied him for a moment. The way his shoulders had tensed, the way his throat moved when he swallowed. He recognized it. Not fear. Theo didn¡¯t push. Not yet. Instead, he exhaled and leaned back again. ¡°Alright.¡± Cass blinked, as if surprised he wasn¡¯t pressing further. He turned his gaze forward again, staring at the opposite wall. Theo stayed there, beside him. Not asking. Not leaving. Just there. --- Theo arrived at the palace exhausted, the weight of the night pressing down on him like lead. The moment he stepped through the grand entrance, he knew something was off. The silence felt too expectant. Then¡ª ¡°Theodore.¡± His father¡¯s voice rang through the marble hall, smooth and deliberate. Theo¡¯s jaw clenched as he turned toward the main sitting room, where the king lounged in his usual chair, a crystal glass of whiskey in hand. The sight was as familiar as it was grating. Across from him, a tablet sat propped against a gilded table, the screen displaying a news article. Even from a distance, Theo could make out the bolded headline: "Golden Prince Humiliated in Public Shelter Riot¡ªA Royal Disgrace?" Theo¡¯s stomach twisted. The king took a slow sip of his drink before speaking. ¡°Well done.¡± Theo froze. ¡°What?¡± His father set the glass down with a quiet clink, gesturing lazily toward the screen. ¡°It¡¯s all over the media. How Ravensford''s perfect prince found himself in the middle of a disaster. The optics are¡­¡± He let out a low chuckle, eyes gleaming. ¡°Unfortunate for him. Fortunate for us.¡± Theo¡¯s blood ran cold. ¡°This wasn¡¯t¡ª¡± He stopped, inhaled sharply. ¡°This wasn¡¯t intentional.¡± The king raised an eyebrow. ¡°No?¡± ¡°No.¡± Theo¡¯s voice was firm, controlled, but a fire burned beneath it. ¡°I was there to work. Cass was there to work. The riot wasn¡¯t¡ª¡± He exhaled, jaw tightening. ¡°It wasn¡¯t about him.¡± His father studied him for a long moment, swirling the whiskey in his glass. ¡°You¡¯re defending him.¡± Theo¡¯s fists curled at his sides. ¡°I¡¯m telling the truth.¡± The king hummed, unconvinced. ¡°And yet, the truth is irrelevant when the world has already made up its mind.¡± He tapped a finger against the tablet. ¡°He was seen as weak today. That¡¯s all they¡¯ll remember. And whether you meant to or not, you were standing strong while he was left reeling.¡± Theo¡¯s stomach churned. It wasn¡¯t true. Cass had tried. Cass had stood his ground, stepped forward when he shouldn¡¯t have, fought against the tide of a situation neither of them could control. But no one would see that. They would see The Golden Prince brought low. Theo forced himself to breathe. ¡°You don¡¯t know what happened.¡± His father smirked. ¡°I don¡¯t need to.¡± Theo¡¯s fingers twitched with the urge to shove the tablet off the table, to shatter the illusion his father was so damn pleased with. Instead, he held his ground. ¡°Cass isn¡¯t weak.¡± His father only raised his glass in a mock toast. ¡°Maybe. But that¡¯s not the story the world is telling.¡± Theo turned on his heel and left before he did something reckless. --- The shelter was still in ruins. Theo stood in the wreckage, hands shoved deep into his coat pockets, as the early morning light cast long shadows over the broken tables, overturned chairs, and the remnants of shattered supplies. The place smelled of damp concrete and burnt plastic¡ªevidence of the fire that had broken out in the chaos, quickly extinguished but leaving its mark. The riot had lasted only minutes. The consequences stretched far beyond that. Theo exhaled, his breath curling in the cold air. Volunteers moved around him, picking up what they could, assessing what needed to be thrown out, what could be salvaged. Someone approached him¡ªan older woman, her weathered hands clutching a clipboard. ¡°We¡¯ll need new flooring in the west wing,¡± she said. ¡°And the storage room¡­ It¡¯s not safe. The walls took too much damage.¡± Theo nodded. ¡°We¡¯ll rebuild it.¡± She hesitated. ¡°The funding¡ª¡± ¡°I¡¯ll handle it.¡± His voice was firm. There was no room for doubt. He would rebuild it. With or without the palace¡¯s help. He had already spent the morning making calls, securing donations, arranging meetings with the city council. There was no time to waste. The shelter had to reopen¡ªfast. People depended on it. And yet¡ª Theo¡¯s jaw clenched. Despite everything that needed to be done, his mind kept circling back. To the riot. To Cass. To the way he had frozen, gasping for breath like the world was closing in. The way his hands had trembled, his eyes unfocused. Theo had seen injuries before. He had treated wounds, carried people out of danger, held them steady when they needed it. But this¡ª Cass hadn''t been bleeding. But something inside him had been breaking. Theo exhaled sharply and pushed the thought aside. He needed to focus. There was work to do. He pulled out his phone, scrolling through the latest reports¡ªupdates on the shelter damage, donation offers, logistics for rebuilding¡ªuntil his notifications caught his eye. A flood of headlines. At first, he expected more of the same. Political articles dissecting the riot, commentary on the unrest in Bellemont. He was used to it. Then he saw his name. And Cassius¡¯. Theo stilled. He opened the first article. "Golden Prince Falters: Cassius of Ravensford Exposed in Public Shelter Riot." His stomach twisted. Another one¡ª "A Royal Disgrace? Cassius¡¯ Weakness on Full Display." Theo¡¯s grip on his phone tightened. They called him weak. A failure. They picked apart the way he had frozen, the way the shelter had crumbled around him. The way Theo had been the one to take control instead. It was what Theo had feared. Cass had tried. Cass had stepped forward, had tried to calm the chaos¡ª But no one cared about that. They only cared that it hadn¡¯t worked. Theo¡¯s pulse pounded in his ears as he kept reading. And then¡ª "Was Harrington''s Bastard the Real Winner?" Theo¡¯s breath caught. The article spun a different narrative. Not about Cass. About him. "While Prince Cassius struggled, Prince Theodore controlled the crowd. While Prince Cassius faltered, Prince Theodore stepped in. Is it any wonder the people are turning their eyes to him? Perhaps it¡¯s time Bellemont embraced the leader who¡¯s always been willing to get his hands dirty." Theo felt something ice-cold curl in his chest. He swiped to the next one. "Theodore Harrington: Rising Star or Opportunist?" Another¡ª "Harrington¡¯s Uncrowned King?" And another¡ª "The Bastard Prince Stands While Prince Cassius Falls¡ªDid He Let It Happen?" Theo sucked in a sharp breath. His entire body tensed. This wasn¡¯t praise. This wasn¡¯t recognition of the work he had done, the risks he had taken, the people he had tried to protect. This was a game. A fucking game. They were twisting the truth¡ªspinning it into a story of power and failure. Cass had lost control. Theo had kept his grip. And now, the world was rewriting the moment into a political shift. He should have stopped it. The thought struck him like a physical blow. The riot. He had seen the signs¡ªthe tension in the crowd, the way the energy had shifted. If he had been faster, if he had acted sooner¡ª Maybe it wouldn¡¯t have escalated. Maybe Cass wouldn¡¯t have been caught in it. Maybe¡ª Theo gritted his teeth and locked his phone, shoving it back into his pocket. None of this mattered. The articles, the politics, the palace¡¯s endless games¡ª He didn¡¯t have time for this. The shelter needed rebuilding. Cass¡ª Theo exhaled sharply. He didn¡¯t know what Cass needed. But whatever it was, the world wasn¡¯t going to give it to him. Not like this. Theo turned back to the wreckage, scanning the remains of the shelter. He had work to do. --- Cassius Pov The study was suffocating. Heavy with the scent of old paper, polished wood, and a fire that did nothing to warm the cold knot in Cassius¡¯ stomach. His father stood behind his desk, the articles spread before him like a collection of sins. Cassius already knew what they said. He had read them all. "A Prince Unfit to Lead." "Cassius of Ravensford: A Crown Without a King?" "Prince Theodore Saves, the Heir Stumbles." The headlines were everywhere, dissecting his failure in ruthless detail. The riot at the shelter had been a catastrophe. The people had turned violent, the air thick with panic, and in the chaos¡ªCassius had frozen. The King¡¯s voice sliced through the silence. ¡°You humiliated the Crown.¡± Cassius forced himself to look up, but his father¡¯s glare burned through him. He had seen the King angry before, but this was different. This was disgust. ¡°They saw Theo.¡± His father spat the name like a curse. ¡°Protecting you.¡± A cold weight settled in Cassius'' chest. He had known this was coming. The moment he had seen the articles, he knew how his father would see it. How the world would see it. Cassius Hartwell, heir to the throne, brought low by a riot he couldn¡¯t control. And Theo¡ªhis rival, his father¡¯s greatest disappointment¡ªwas the one the press called a protector. Of him. Cassius gritted his teeth. ¡°They don¡¯t say Theo was perfect.¡± ¡°No,¡± his father agreed. ¡°They call him an opportunist. A fraud.¡± His lip curled. ¡°A performer using charity for fame.¡± Cassius hated those articles just as much as the ones written about himself. Because they twisted everything Theo had done¡ªthe way he had fought to save the shelter, how he had held the place together when it crumbled around him. They took his work and reduced it to a cheap publicity stunt. It wasn¡¯t fair. But none of this was. The King exhaled sharply, eyes still locked on Cassius. ¡°And yet, despite the accusations, Theodore walks away from this with something.¡± He gestured at the newspapers. ¡°What do you walk away with?¡± Cassius'' throat tightened. ¡°They doubt him,¡± the King went on, voice like ice. ¡°But they mock you.¡± Cassius said nothing. He had no defense. ¡°Ravensford does not need a prince who must be saved,¡± his father continued, each word hitting harder than the last. ¡°It needs a ruler. A leader. And yet, at the first true test of your strength, you failed.¡± Cassius'' nails dug into his palms. ¡°You stood there, while he acted.¡± His father¡¯s disappointment had always been a shadow hanging over him, but this was different. This was something deeper. Cassius wasn¡¯t just a disappointment. He was an embarrassment. The King¡¯s voice dropped lower, sharp and final. ¡°You have one purpose in this family, Cassius. You are not a person, Cassius. You are a symbol. And symbols cannot afford to bleed." Cassius inhaled sharply, hands curling into fists beneath the table. Symbols. Not people. Never people. The King¡¯s voice softened, but it was no kindness¡ªjust another weapon. "Do you know what I saw when I watched that footage?" Cassius didn¡¯t answer. His father smiled. "I saw a prince who isn¡¯t ready." The words struck deeper than he wanted them to. The King leaned closer, lowering his voice to something cold and final. "Next time, if you insist on playing the hero¡ªat least learn how to win." Cassius didn¡¯t move. Didn¡¯t flinch. ---