The court room carried a quiet authority that demanded attention the moment anyone stepped inside.
At the center, seated with composed dignity, was His Majesty
Before him stood Dorian and Zion
Dust still clung faintly to their clothes from the journey, but both men stood upright, unwavering.
"So," His Majesty began, his voice calm yet firm, "the message was delivered successfully?"
Dorian inclined his head. "Yes, Your Majesty."
Zion added shortly, "There were no complications."
His Majesty studied them both carefully.
Then, slowly, a small smile appeared on his face.
"That is… good to hear."
His gaze shifted between them.
"I must say, I am more surprised that the two of you returned standing side by side."
A faint hint of amusement touched his tone.
Zion didn't respond.
Dorian remained composed.
But the shift between them was noticeable.
Not friendly.
Not warm.
But no longer opposing.
"I trust," His Majesty continued, "that whatever differences existed before have been… resolved?"
Zion spoke this time.
"They are understood."
Dorian added calmly, "And will not interfere with our duties."
His Majesty nodded in approval.
"That is all I require."
Just then...
The doors opened again.
Footsteps echoed across the hall.
Crown Prince Quil entered, removing his gloves as he approached.
"My apologies for the delay," he said smoothly. "I bring good news from the northern envoy."
His Majesty's expression brightened slightly.
"Then today proves to be more fruitful than expected."
Quil bowed his head slightly.
"It would seem so."
Outside the court room..
The moment the doors closed, another figure approached quickly.
Quentin
"You're back," he said, eyes immediately landing on Dorian.
Dorian nodded slightly.
"How did it go?" Quentin asked, lowering his voice as he stepped closer.
Dorian's gaze flickered briefly toward Zion, who stood a short distance away.
"Better than expected."
Quentin followed his line of sight.
Understanding dawned instantly.
A slow smile spread across his face.
"…You got him."
Dorian didn't respond verbally.
But the silence was enough.
Quentin let out a quiet breath of satisfaction.
"Good."
His voice dropped even lower.
"That makes things easier."
He glanced once more at Zion, then back at Dorian.
"Well done."
On the other side of the palace...
Inside her chambers, Quiana stood before the mirror as Scarlett hurried in.
"They've returned."
Quiana's hand froze mid-motion.
"…Who?"
"Young Lord Dorian and Young Master Zion."
Scarlett's eyes gleamed slightly.
"And the court has already been informed."
Quiana didn't hesitate.
She turned immediately.
"I'm going to the courtyard."
"Your Highness..."
But she was already moving.
The palace corridors echoed softly with her hurried steps.
Her dress swayed with each stride, urgency clear in her movements.
But as she turned a corner...
She stopped.
Standing ahead of her was Brooke.
The same Brooke she had been carefully avoiding.
For a moment...
Neither of them spoke.
Quiana's expression shifted slightly, almost imperceptibly.
Then it smoothed out again.
Like nothing had ever happened.
Brooke watched her quietly.
His gaze sharp.
Knowing.
Quiana lifted her chin slightly.
Composed.
Untouchable.
And then..
She moved.
Walking past him as if he wasn't even there.
As if their last encounter had never happened.
But Brooke didn't turn to follow her.
Didn't call her name.
He simply stood there, watching her walk away.
And though no words were exchanged..
Everything was said.
Her avoidance.
His awareness.
The tension left hanging between them.
Unresolved.
Unspoken.
And far from over.
The garden was alive again.
Not with noise...but with something warmer.
Familiarity.
Ace leaned back against the stone bench, stretching slightly as if he owned the place. Cyma stood nearby, arms folded, pretending she wasn't watching him too closely.
"Are you going to keep staring," Ace said lazily
Cyma scoffed. "I wasn't staring."
"You were."
"I..."
"Still arguing like children."
They both turned.
Zion stood at the entrance of the garden, arms crossed, watching them with a knowing look.
Cyma's face lit up instantly.
"Finally!"
She rushed to him without hesitation, grabbing his arm.
"You're finally done with your 'important duties'?"
Zion raised a brow. "Some of us actually have responsibilities."
Ace snorted. "You mean you finally got permission to leave?"
Zion smirked. "And some of us still haven't grown up."
Cyma looked between them, smiling.
"You both talk too much."
"Blame him," they both said at the same time.
They paused.
Then all three burst out laughing.
Zion looked at them carefully.
"…You've both changed."
Cyma scoffed
" You only left for some days and now I've changed"
Zion smirked looking at jer
" Weeks actually, you weren't counting"
Cyma rolled her eyes
" Whatever"
Zion adjusted himself towards them
" But you ... have changed"
Cyma tilted her head. "In a good way?"
Zion shrugged. "You talk more."
"I always talked."
"You didn't breathe between sentences before."
Ace laughed loudly. "That's still true."
Cyma rolled her eyes. "And you.."
She pointed at Zion.
"...you've become more serious."
Zion nodded proudly. "That's called maturity."
Ace stepped closer, examining him dramatically.
"No… I think it's stress."
Cyma laughed.
Zion shook his head. "You disappeared for years and came back worse."
"I came back better."
"You came back louder."
"I came back important."
"You came back annoying."
They stared at each other.
Then...
Cyma pushed both of them lightly.
"Can you both behave for one second?"
"Why?" Ace asked.
"Because I said so."
Zion nodded. "Fair enough."
Ace sighed. "I'm surrounded by unreasonable people."
Suddenly...
"ZION!"
A blur ran toward them.
Before Zion could react...
Alpena slammed into him, hugging him tightly.
Zion staggered slightly.
"…Still dramatic, I see."
"You left for too long" Alpena snapped, pulling back to look at him. "What is wrong with all of you?! Do you all have a meeting where you decide to disappear?!"
Ace raised his hand. "I feel attacked again."
"You should!" she shot back.
Zion chuckled, shaking his head.
"I didn't disappear. I had work."
"Work for weeks?!"
Zion looked at Cyma
"…At least someone's counting."
Alpena hit him slightly, he winced making Cyma laughed
" Serves you right"
Alpena huffed, then suddenly smiled.
"…I missed you."
Zion softened slightly.
"I know."
Ace watched them with a grin.
"So this is what's been going on."
Zion glanced at him. "What?"
"You and Alpena."
Alpena blinked. "What about us?"
Ace smirked. "I'm just surprised you didn't go for Cyma instead."
Cyma choked. "ACE...?!"
Zion deadpanned. "Why would I do that?"
Ace shrugged. "Closest girl. Convenient."
Zion shook his head.
"That's exactly why I didn't."
They all paused.
Zion added casually,
"She's family."
Cyma froze slightly.
Ace studied him… then nodded slowly.
"…That's what you call it now."
Cyma stiffened
"ACE..."
Then his grin returned.
"Guess I'm lucky then."
Zion narrowed his eyes. "Lucky?"
Ace stretched. "Means I don't have to fight my friend over a girl."
Zion smirked. "You'd lose."
Ace laughed. "You wish."
Cyma shook her head. "You're both insufferable."
Then...
Her eyes drifted.
Far across the garden.
A familiar figure.
Walking away.
Dorian.
Her heart skipped.
"…I'll be back," she said quickly.
Before anyone could respond, she turned and hurried after him.
"Dorian!"
He didn't stop immediately.
But his steps slowed.
Cyma caught up, slightly out of breath.
"That's Ace," she said quickly. "Our childhood friend."
No response.
She frowned slightly.
"The one I told you about."
Silence.
Cyma sighed.
"Are you just going to ignore me?"
Dorian glanced at her briefly.
"…I heard you."
"Then say something."
"I don't have anything to say."
Cyma crossed her arms.
"You always have something to say."
"Not always."
"Now you're just being difficult."
"And you're being loud."
"I'm always loud."
"I know."
She stared at him.
"…You're annoying."
"And you followed me."
"…That's not the point."
Dorian's lips twitched slightly.
That tiny reaction was enough.
Cyma smiled.
"See? You missed me."
"I didn't."
"You did."
"I didn't."
"You did."
Dorian sighed.
"…You talk too much."
"You don't talk enough."
"That's because I don't need to."
"That's because you're boring."
Dorian glanced at her.
"…And yet you're still here."
Cyma smirked.
"Because someone has to make your life interesting."
As they walked, the tension eased.
Naturally.
Like it always did.
Cyma started talking...about everything.
The palace.
The chaos.
Alpena.
Even Ace.
Dorian listened.
Then responded.
Then teased.
Then argued.
And somehow…
They were laughing again.
By the time they reached his residence...
It felt… easy.
Cyma turned to him.
"You're escorting me back."
Dorian didn't even hesitate.
"No."
Cyma blinked. "What?"
"I'm tired."
"That's not my problem."
"It is if I collapse halfway."
"You won't."
"You sound confident."
"I am."
Dorian opened the door.
"Come inside."
Cyma frowned. "Why?"
"Because Brooke is bringing the carriage."
"And?"
"And I'm not walking you to the palace and back again."
Cyma scoffed. "Lazy."
"Efficient."
"Lazy."
"Smart."
"Lazy."
Dorian stepped inside.
"Are you coming or arguing outside?"
Cyma huffed… then followed him in.
His house was exactly what she expected.
Clean.
Simple.
Organized.
Very Dorian.
He loosened his collar slightly.
"I'm going to freshen up."
Cyma waved him off.
"Go. You look like you fought the road itself."
"And you look like you lost to the wind."
She gasped. "Excuse me?!"
But he was already gone.
Cyma wandered.
Curious.
Touching things.
Looking around.
"Everything is so… neat," she muttered.
Then she reached a door.
She pushed it open..
And froze.
Dorian stood there.
Fresh from bathing.
A towel low on his waist.
Hair damp.
Water slowly trailing down his neck and shoulders.
He turned.
Their eyes met.
Cyma forgot how to breathe.
Her brain completely stopped working.
Dorian blinked once.
Then slowly raised a brow.
"…Enjoying the view?"
Cyma snapped.
"I..NO..I wasn't...!"
She turned so fast she almost hit the door.
"I didn't know you were..!"
"You walked into my room."
"That's not the point!"
"It is exactly the point."
Cyma covered her face.
"This is embarrassing."
Dorian chuckled softly behind her.
And somehow...
That made it worse.
"Why are you laughing?!" she snapped.
"Because you're flustered."
"I am NOT flustered!"
"You are."
"I'm not!"
"You are."
"I.."
She stopped.
"…Stop talking."
Dorian smirked.
"Yes, Princess."
Her heart skipped.
And she hated that it did.