Aster sighed.
He should never have agreed to Mad Dog's offer.
Everything about that man screamed trouble, from the reckless grin to the way every job somehow ended with blood, fire, or both. Stealing from the royal family was not just dangerous, it was an engraved invitation to die painfully and publicly.
He had been young then. Desperate. A handful of merits had sounded like salvation.
Now it sounded like a joke the universe refused to stop laughing at.
He wished, briefly, that time could be folded like paper.
That he could reach back, grab his younger self by the collar, and say no. Walk away. Starve if you must, but do not follow this path.
But regret was a luxury. It never fed anyone, and it certainly would not save him now.
So he straightened his shoulders and stepped forward.
The party sprawled across a secluded villa, glowing like a jewel dropped into the dark.
Chandeliers cascaded from the ceiling, crystal prisms catching the light and scattering it in soft gold fragments. Silk gowns brushed marble floors. Laughter drifted lazily through the halls.
The air was thick with wealth.
Canapés perfumed with herbs and butter lined silver trays.
Champagne bubbled somewhere nearby, light and careless, as if the world beyond these walls did not burn or bleed.
"The plan is simple," Mad Dog said, grinning like this was a tavern prank instead of a royal crime.
"You two pretend to be servers. Helpers. Whatever keeps eyes off you. You sneak to Princess Elodie's room and replace
the Forest's Eye with a replica."
He tapped the table once, slow and deliberate.
"Aster. Your job is to make sure no one enters that room. No matter who it is."
Aster did not like the way that sounded.
"Catherine," Mad Dog continued, turning to her, "you switch the jewel. Fast. The case is sealed with mana. The only moment it opens is when you help the princess put it on. You will act as her caretaker for the night. She wears the replica. You take the real one."
Catherine nodded, calm as ever.
"After the princess leaves, the guards will check you. That is when you slip the Eye into Aster's hands. Once it's transferred…"
His grin widened.
"Aster, you bypass every guard without raising suspicion. Get to the stables. Our carriage will be waiting. After that, we go home rich."
He leaned back, satisfied.
"And that will be the last time we ever see each other."
Aster buttoned his shirt, inhaled slowly, then stepped into his role.
The villa buzzed with nobility. White gloves brushed crystal glasses. Perfumes clung to the air, layered and heavy, roses and orchids tangled together until it was almost suffocating.
Gold threaded gowns shimmered under candlelight. Laughter chimed like bells that had never known hunger.
He moved through the crowd, serving champagne, offering delicate appetizers he could not pronounce, let alone afford. Faces blurred past him, important and indifferent.
Then he saw him.
The new Duke Crimore.
Pale brown hair, sharp posture, a tailored suit so pristine Aster knew it cost more than a year of his savings. Probably two.
Aster lowered his gaze and kept moving.
Suddenly, the room stilled.
A voice rang out, clear and practiced.
"Presenting Her Majesty, the Queen of Eildralis. Queen Elizabeth Marie Equinox."
All eyes turned.
The queen descended the staircase in a yellow gown adorned with shimmering amber beads that caught the light with every step. The fabric billowed softly around her, regal and warm. She smiled and waved, every motion effortless, like royalty was something she breathed.
"Presenting Princess Elodie Mariana Equinox."
Elodie followed, wearing a pale blue dress traced with silver patterns that glimmered like frost. Her hair was half done, loose enough to soften her sharp features. Her eyes darted across the room, alert, observant, missing nothing.
Then came the final name.
"And our beloved Crown Prince, Nikolai Wolfgang Equinox."
The air changed.
Nikolai descended the stairs cloaked in black, his suit a deep royal blue that mirrored Elodie's. His gaze was cold, distant, as though the celebration existed somewhere far beneath him.
Aster felt it then.
Mana.
It rolled off the prince in thick, invisible waves, immense and suffocating, pressing against Aster's senses until his breath caught.
He swallowed hard, forcing himself to look away.
Tonight, he reminded himself, stick with the plan.
Aster continued moving through the crowd, refilling glasses, offering trays, smiling when required and vanishing when not.
Then he spotted Catherine.
She was already dressed as a helper, her hair neatly fixed, the vivid purple subdued but unmistakable. When her eyes met his, she gave a brief nod.
The signal.
The plan was in motion.
...
Catherine stayed close to Elodie, attending to her wherever she went. She adjusted the hem of her dress, offered quiet assistance, moved with practiced ease. Too smooth for someone meant to fade into the background.
Elodie noticed.
She slowed her steps and glanced sideways, studying Catherine with sharp, curious eyes.
"You're not from here, are you?" Elodie said casually. "I've never seen a helper like you before. Especially with hair as bright purple as yours."
Catherine swallowed, then straightened.
"I'm sorry, Your Majesty. I'm quite new here," she replied, her voice steady. "If my hair bothers you, I can dye it brown like the others."
Elodie's lips curved into a smirk.
"I never said I didn't like it."
Catherine blinked.
"It's endearing," Elodie added,
amusement flickering in her gaze.
Somewhere across the hall, Aster felt a chill crawl up his spine.
.....
I hope Catherine is alright, Aster thought.
He scanned the hall, searching for someone else to serve, but everyone already held a glass. Laughter rang out, careless and loud. Then he noticed the balcony.
The Crown Prince stood alone there. No drink. No company.
Aster swallowed and moved toward him.
With every step, his body felt heavier, as if the air itself resisted him. Pressure weighed against his chest, subtle but unmistakable.
Because he was a recessive omega, Aster could not properly sense pheromones. They slipped past him like ghosts. Still, something reached him now. A faint scent, barely there.
Blueberry.
The prince sat quietly on the balcony, the night wind stirring his silver hair.
"Your drink, Your Majesty," Aster said, setting the glass carefully on the small table beside him.
He dared a glance.
Silver hair caught the moonlight. Deep blue eyes reflected it back, vast and unsettling, like staring into a deep sea that promised both wonder and drowning.
Nikolai lifted a brow.
"You managed to get here without losing your breath," he said, his voice stern and cool. "How astonishing."
Aster straightened. "I cannot smell pheromones well, Your Majesty," he replied evenly. "Though I do sense a faint scent on you. The air is thick with them, but it does not affect me."
He turned to leave.
"Ah…"
The word stopped him.
Nikolai clicked his tongue, studying him now. "You look familiar. Have we met?" His gaze narrowed. "Where have I seen you?"
Aster forced his expression to remain blank, calm, unremarkable, even as his thoughts screamed.
"Perhaps you mistake me for someone else, sire," he said smoothly.
Inside, he begged the night to let that be enough