Jordan stared at himself in the mirror, eyeing his new suit critically.
The dark fabric hugged his broad shoulders and accentuated his trim waist.
Few would probably guess how much effort he put into keeping himself in such shape. Jordan was naturally rather lean, but his intense training and years of war had shaped his physique into one most alphas were born with. He wondered idly if he would become leaner again if the war actually ended.
Shaking the errant thought off, Jordan ran a hand through his carefully styled hair and smiled at his own vanity.
There was no use "prettying himself up" for this, as Liam, his cousin, would say.
This was just a political arrangement. His future spouse wasn't going to care what he looked like.
A knock on the door made him flinch.
"Your Highness, His Majesty, and the Queen are waiting for you on the plane."
"Thank you, I'm coming."
***
The flight to Central City, South's capital, didn't take long, but it was excruciating nonetheless.
Jordan was forced to listen to his father's angry tirade about how the wedding ceremony should have taken place in their kingdom and how humiliating—and dangerous—it was that they had to travel into enemy territory.
"Father, the Souths are hardly going to attack us in front of the Coalition representative," Jordan said in his most patient voice, but of course, his father ignored his words. As usual.
Jordan had never been more relieved to get off a plane.
He loved his father and had looked up to him as a boy, but as an adult, he could tolerate him only in small doses. There were too many things he disagreed with him on, things he had to keep his mouth shut about, because King Kaiser wasn't interested in opinions besides his own.
As the helicopter took them from the airport to the Summit, Jordan looked at the city with interest.
He'd never been to Central City before. He had to admit the sleek, minimalist architecture of the South's capital was very pleasing to the eye.
The Summit, the prime minister's official residence, was a tall building in the center of the city. As the helicopter landed on its roof, Jordan took a deep breath, his heart beating fast.
Here goes nothing.
He hadn't expected to recognize the beta the Souths had picked to represent their country.
But one look at the tall man who stood beside Prime Minister Cruz was enough for Jordan to place him.
Senator Warren Reed was one of the few Southern politicians who were well known even in North Veridia.
In politics from a young age, he was the leader of the Liberal Party, famous for the single-minded pursuit of his goals. He was rumored to be the current favorite to win the prime minister position next year.
Jordan wasn't sure how true those rumors were.
The South Veridian political system was a confusing one. There used to be an elected president, but after their last president was removed from the position with a vote of no-confidence, the constitution was rewritten, and the prime minister was now elected.
Jordan wasn't sure of the particulars, but he had heard that Warren Reed was immensely popular both in the Assembly and among the general population, so unless something happened to destroy his reputation, Reed was likely going to be the next Head of State.
When Reed's black eyes met his, Jordan barely stopped himself from tensing up.
It was unexpectedly difficult to hold the politician's gaze despite the man exuding the inoffensive, neutral scent of a beta.
His own scent thickened, as it usually did when he was anxious, and Jordan could see a barely noticeable grimace cross Reed's face.
He clearly didn't care much for Jordan's scent. In fact, Jordan could see something like dislike emanating off Reed, dislike that made very little sense until Jordan remembered that the man's lands were close to the border.
Right. The owners of the borderlands tended to dislike him. For a reason.
Pushing the uncomfortable thought away, Jordan told himself it was a good thing.
If Reed disliked him, their marriage would be on paper only, and Jordan wouldn't have to share a bed with a stranger.
Not that Reed was unattractive. Far from it. Warren Reed was a very handsome man. Dark hair, dark eyes. He was the type of beta Jordan usually hooked up with: tall and broad-shouldered, with a muscular chest and long, powerful legs.
Theoretically, he wouldn't mind having sex with him—except Reed clearly didn't share that opinion, his body language oddly aggressive.
Reed gave him a stiff nod and clasped Jordan's hand a little too hard.
Suppressing the urge to crush it back, Jordan met the other man's gaze and smiled.
He totally could be the better man.
Reed's black eyes narrowed a little.
"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Senator Reed," Jordan said in a calm voice, still smiling.
Something flickered in Reed's eyes. His jaw relaxed slightly, his shoulders losing some of their tension.
"The pleasure is mine, Your Highness," he said, letting go of his hand. He had a very deep voice.
Jordan cleared his throat a little and looked around the room.
Prime Minister Cruz seemed shorter than he did on the news. He was speaking to Jordan's father and a tall, regal man who smelled strange.
His confusion must have been obvious, because Reed clarified quietly, "That's the Coalition representative, Councilman Kaito." He tripped over the name and sighed. "Or Lord Kai, as he allowed us to call him."
Ah. So that man was an off-worlder. It explained why he smelled off. Although the vast majority of the races in the galaxy looked similar enough, there were still enough differences in every species' biology to make every race unique.
"His people don't have designations?" Jordan murmured, glancing back at Reed and quickly looking away. He didn't know why this man was making him so uncomfortable.
Reed shook his head. "He's a Calluvian. Be careful with your thoughts. He's a telepath."
Jordan suppressed a shudder of unease. There were not all that many telepathic species in the Union, thank fuck. He could protect himself from physical weapons and brute power.
Telepathic onslaught was another matter entirely.
He found himself taking an involuntary step away from the telepath—and right into Reed's personal space.
Reed stiffened, his neutral scent spiking with something that smelled like the air after a thunderstorm.
The side of Jordan's neck prickled. He was suddenly very aware of the fact that his neck was bare.
He quickly stepped away from Reed, unease churning in his gut.
Fuck.
He had no idea why this beta put him so on edge.