Felix feels himself melt at the words, face flushing as he leans into Jake's touch. Every pair of eyes in the room is still on them—he feels like he's about to burn up from sheer *attention.*
But he doesn't care.
All he cares about is the way Jake's looking at him right now, like he's something to hold onto—and that's all that *matters.*
The grand hall is silent now—no music, no murmurs. Just the echo of their defiance hanging in the air.
Then, from across the room—a single clap.
Slow.
Deliberate.
All heads turn.
It's *King Aldric,* Jake's father—the man who summoned them here tonight. His face is unreadable as he descends the marble stairs, golden robes whispering over stone. He stops just before them, eyes sharp on Felix... then softening as they land on his son.
"...Well done," he says simply. "Both of you."
Jake stiffens slightly—*father never praises*—but holds his ground.
Then King Aldric does something no one expects:
He bows—to *Felix.*
A small gesture, but it shatters silence like glass breaking at dawn.
"Welcome to House Vaelthorne," he says solemnly. "My son has chosen well."
And just like that—
**The kingdom kneels to love.**
---
Jake feels a strange sense of satisfaction at the sight of his father bowing to Felix. It's respect, *real, genuine respect* —something he's seen rarely in his life.
But it's the look in his father's eyes that really hits him:
It's *pride.*
He knows what the people around them must be thinking. *That Felix is nothing but a street rat, a charity case.* He knows how they'll talk like wolves behind his back once the music's back on.
But his father doesn't care.
And neither does he.
Felix stares at Jake's father, wide-eyed and still trying to process it all. The king straightens up, his hands clasped behind his back. He looks between the two of them, gaze sharp and considering.
"...You are aware," he says slowly, "that your actions tonight will have consequences."
Jake's hand tightens around Felix's hip, protective.
"I am," he replies, voice steady.
King Aldric nods in approval, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"Good," he says. "Then you should also be aware that some of those consequences... may be positive."
Jake raises an eyebrow, uncertain.
"How so?" he asks, wary.
King Aldric takes a step closer, lowering his voice.
"The people of this kingdom respect strength," he says. "And they respect loyalty. Your… display of both in the face of opposition will not be forgotten."
Jake's mind races, trying to read between the lines. There's more to this than simple praise.
"What are you saying, Father?" he asks, holding tight to Felix's hip.
King Aldric glances between the two of them, taking in the protective arm around Felix's side. Then his gaze softens, just slightly.
"I'm saying... that in a world full of power and politics, sometimes, people forget what truly matters."
Jake's eyes narrow, sensing the unspoken *but.*
"But?" he prompts.
King Aldric hesitates for a moment, as though debating how much to share. Then he lets out a sigh.
"But... there are those who will consider your choice of partner... controversial."
The room falls silent again.
Jake's grip tightens on Felix's hip as he scoffs.
"And what business is it of theirs, who I'm with?"
King Aldric doesn't respond right away, gaze flickering over the crowd. The nobles are murmuring again, shooting quick, curious glances in their direction.
"None at all," he finally answers. "But that won't stop them from gossiping."
Jake's jaw ticks, irritation flaring.
"Let them gossip," he spits. "I don't care."
King Aldric shakes his head slowly, a hint of frustration in his eyes.
"You are the heir to the throne, son," he says, voice low. "Whether you care or not, perception matters. The people have high expectations of us—and they expect a certain *image* from you."
Jake's hand balls into a fist.
"And I suppose Felix doesn't fit that image?" he asks.
King Aldric doesn't respond, but his silence is answer enough.
Jake's grip on Felix's hip tightens further, protective and *furious.* How could his father—his own father—dare to imply that Felix isn't good enough?
"So I'm expected to discard him like some common trophy," he snaps, voice rising. "To throw away whatever I feel for the sake of some *damn* image?"
King Aldric's face hardens, eyes flashing.
*"Yes,"* he says, voice cold. "For the sake of your duty, and the kingdom, you will put aside your personal feelings."
Jake feels like the air's been punched from his lungs, but he doesn't back down.
"And if I refuse?" he challenges.
King Aldric sighs, running a hand over his face.
"Don't be difficult, son," he says, voice strained. "You know how important your role is for the kingdom. You cannot put your personal feelings ahead of your responsibilities."
Jake grits his teeth, anger and hurt warring in his chest.
"And what about what I want?" he retorts.
King Aldric bristles at the question.
"What you want can only come *after* what is best for the kingdom," he snaps. "You are a Prince, first and foremost. That comes before any other desires."
Jake can feel everyone's eyes on them—the nobles whispering, speculating. It only adds fuel to his already burning anger.
"And what about Felix?" he presses. "What does he want?"
King Aldric's eyes flit to Felix, who has been silent until now... simply standing there, tucked against Jake's side. The look on the king's face is almost pitying—a twisted mockery of concern.
"What he wants is irrelevant," he says simply. "He is a commoner. He does not know what is best for him."
"And that's why I've already made arrangements," King Aldric continues, voice firm. "Mika arrives tomorrow—Omega of House Rhyne. Perfect breeding match. Calm, obedient, trained in royal conduct."
Jake freezes.
"**You*—you *what?*" he hisses, stepping forward so fast the guards tense. "*You brought another Omega here? To replace him?*" His voice cracks on the last word.
Felix flinches—but doesn't pull away.
Instead, he lifts his chin and stares straight at the king.
"...I'm not a thing to be replaced," Felix says quietly—but every word cuts like glass. "I'm not some *accessory* you can swap out for politics."
The room holds its breath.
Then Jake does something no one expects:
He turns to Felix—drops to one knee on the cold marble—and takes both of his hands in his own beneath the shattered light of a thousand chandeliers.
**"They want an heir?"** Jake growls up at his father, eyes blazing with fire and love and defiance. **"Then I'll give them one."**
His thumb brushes over Felix's knuckles as whispers erupt like wildfire through the hall.
But Jake only has eyes for one man—
**"Will you Marry me."**