Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

👑 Prince Nunew

"The Prince Reborn for Vengeance"

Full Name: Prince Nunew Arisara

Title: Crown Prince of the Eastern Kingdom

Age: 23 (at time of rebirth)

Role: Protagonist - The Betrayed Prince Turned Avenger

⚔️ Duke Zee Vellion

"The Wolf of the West - The Rival, The Protector"

Full Name: Duke Zee Vellion

Title: Duke of the Western Kingdom, "The Wolf of the West"

Age: 27

Role: Deuteragonist - The Feared Noble, Protector, and Potential Love

Crown Prince Ramil Devaran

"The Southern Flame with an Old Grudge"

Full Name: Crown Prince Ramil Devaran

Title: Crown Prince of the Southern Kingdom

Age: 26

Role: Rival Ally - Not an Enemy, Not Quite a Friend

Baron Paytai Serrin

"The Diplomatic Hawk of the South"

Full Name: Paytai Serrin

Title: Baron of the Southern Kingdom, Diplomatic Envoy, Chief Negotiator

Age: 31

Role: Neutral Diplomat - The Voice of Reason, Political Bridge

(A/n: No photo, apologies.（＞人＜；）)

Full Name: Renald Evaris

Title: Duke of the Eastern Kingdom (in past), Future King (in the past timeline)

Age: 29

Role: Antagonist - The Betrayer, The Manipulator, The False King

Chapter Text

They called him a naive prince. A pretty ornament. Loyal to a fault.

Prince Nunew Arisara was betrayed and tortured by the very man he gave his heart to, his husband, Duke Renald Evaris, who smiled as he signed his death decree and whispered false promises into his dying breath.

But fate is not done with him.

He awakens in his own body, three years before the betrayal, back in the glittering court where everything still sparkles, though now he sees the poison beneath it. His hand still wears the engagement ring. The kingdom still praises the man who will one day kill him.

But this time, Nunew Arisara is not blind. He still bears the scars carved on his body by Evaris.

He's back.
And he remembers everything.

The abuse. The poison. The lies. The way Duke Renald, his husband, smiled as he fed him death in a golden cup. How he used Nunew's blind loyalty to crush kingdoms in his path. How Nunew had ignored every warning, including from the one man he'd been told to hate; Duke Zee Vellion, the icy-hearted noble from a rival kingdom, the very name whispered to him like a curse.

But now... Nunew sees clearly.

This time, the universe has given him back his memories, his life... and a choice. He returns to the palace with a quiet smile... and a vengeance that burns colder than death.

He rips the engagement contract before the court. Refuses Renald's hand. Declares the betrothal broken. Chaos erupts. Nobles gasp.

To carry out his plan, he needs power. Influence. A name feared even by kings.

Prince Nunew seeks asylum from Duke Zee.

Duke Zee Vellion, the rival kingdom's war-scarred noble. The very man Renald warned him to hate.
The man Nunew once mocked. Ignored. Distrusted.
The man who, in his past life, stood at a distance... watching silently as Nunew was destroyed.

Zee agrees but not out of kindness.

"You've hated me for years, Your Highness. Why crawl to me now?"
"Because I know how my story ends if I don't."

Zee offers him protection. A sword. A cold smile.

But as they navigate palace plots, poisoned diplomacy, and buried truths, Nunew starts to see the man behind the title.

The enemy he was warned against... may have been the only one who would have died for him.

Chapter Text

The news of the Crown Prince's annulment spread like wildfire, setting the entire kingdom ablaze with whispers and speculation. It came as no surprise that a formal session of the Noble Council was swiftly convened.

Within the grand marble hall, nobles from every corner of the realm; dukes, marquesses, earls, barons, and esteemed court advisors gathered in a frenzy, voices rising in agitation, curiosity, and barely veiled ambition.

No house appeared more unsettled than House Evaris. For them, this annulment was not merely a personal scandal , it was a direct severance from the royal bloodline. Without the royal engagement binding them to the throne, their political influence stood at risk of crumbling, leaving space for rival houses to ascend.

All eyes bore down on Duke Renald. Some of his allies glared at him with poorly concealed disappointment, furious at the shame he had brought upon them. Others, emboldened by the fall from grace, smirked from the shadows finally seeing an opportunity to vie for the Crown Prince's favor themselves.

A sharp voice broke through the murmurs.
"This is utterly unjust, Your Majesty!" roared the patriarch of House Evaris, rising from his seat with his cane striking the floor. "His Royal Highness has annulled this engagement without any prior consultation, nor has he presented any proper reason. Such reckless behavior dishonors both houses!"

Cries of agreement followed, with Evaris supporters standing to demand "fair justice", condemning the Crown Prince's action as irresponsible, impulsive, and disgraceful.

Seated at the royal seat, Prince Nunew watched them all, silent but observant. His eyes, once gentle and trusting, now gleamed with cold calculation as he studied each noble carefully, marking those who still pledged fidelity to House Evaris and those who smelled opportunity in their downfall.

At last, the king raised his hand, his ringed fingers commanding silence. The clamor dwindled instantly. His sharp gaze swept the room before landing on Nunew.
"I trust," the king began with a tone laced in warning, "that you come before this council prepared to offer a justification for your actions, Arisara."

Rising gracefully, Nunew stood taller than ever before, no longer the naive prince they once thought him to be. This time, he was fearless, and behind his composed smile burned the flame of vengeance.

"Indeed, Your Majesty. I, Nunew Arisara, Crown Prince of this kingdom, stand before this esteemed council to declare that this annulment has been made with full legitimacy, backed by irrefutable evidence and in accordance with the laws that govern our noble houses."

Duke Renald shot to his feet, rage flashing in his eyes, his voice sharp and trembling with barely contained fury.
"Then speak it!, your Highness." he spat. "Let us hear what treacherous lie you dare to present before this court!"

Nunew met his glare with icy serenity, a half-smile curling at his lips.
"The grounds for this annulment," he declared, letting his words echo through the vaulted chamber, "are as follows: While engaged to me, Duke Renald, in breach of both trust and honor, entered into secret discussions with another noble house, laying the groundwork for an alternative marital alliance."

A collective gasp rippled through the hall. Nobles leaned forward, whispers breaking out like cracks in glass.

Renald's face twisted into a mask of disbelief and indignation. "This is a baseless accusation!" he exclaimed, desperately schooling his expression into one of wounded betrayal. His tone softened, turning toward the king with imploring eyes, "Your Majesty, while I may have acted in ways that unknowingly upset His Highness's feelings, I would never stoop to such deception. Surely... surely you must know me better than to believe this slander."

Had this been the past, such a pitiful performance, laced with fabricated sorrow, might have been enough to sway Nunew's trusting heart. But not this time. Not in this life.

With a subtle wave of his hand, Nunew summoned his aide.
"Chakri."

From behind, Chakri approached swiftly, carrying a velvet-lined box. Opening it with ceremonial care, he revealed several sealed letters and financial records. Nunew stepped forward, taking the topmost letter in hand.

"Your Majesty," he said firmly, "the evidence is here.Letters bearing Duke Renald's personal seal, alongside financial ledgers detailing secret transactions, proof of his intentions to form an alternative alliance while still bound to me in engagement."

The king leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as the documents were presented before him. Murmurs grew louder, a wave of disbelief spreading among the nobles.

Raising his chin, Nunew's voice grew sharper, commanding;
"In light of these grave discoveries that endanger the integrity of the royal family and threaten the stability of this kingdom, and in accordance with the rules and codes that bind our noble houses, I, Crown Prince Nunew Arisara, hereby declare this engagement annulled. This decision is made not out of personal grievance, but in defense of the kingdom's honor, security, and future stability."

The chamber fell utterly silent.

"A marriage founded upon deception, divided loyalties, and political betrayal cannot, and shall not, stand."

A pause ... then a voice rose from the crowd.
"I, Lord Valen of House Rynal, stand in support of His Royal Highness."

Another followed.
"House Elgen offers its support as well."

Like dominos falling, noble after noble voiced their assent, their declarations ringing through the hall in swift succession.

The Evaris patriarch's face turned pale. Renald stood frozen, his fists clenched, jaw grinding.

Renald opened his mouth, perhaps to protest, but the king stood abruptly, cutting him off.
"Enough," the king declared, his tone heavy, "The council has spoken. Their will reflects the will of the kingdom. I hold no power to oppose the collective decision of this council."

With that, the king turned, his cloak sweeping behind him as he strode from the hall, his expression thunderous. One by one, the nobles stood, bowing deeply first to the departing king, then to the Crown Prince.

Nunew remained standing tall, unbowed, victorious. The weight of his revenge settling like silk on his shoulders.

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

Nunew had believed that the annulment sanctioned by both the king and the Noble Council would be the end of Duke Renald's interference in his life. He should have known better.

For the past week, letter upon letter had flooded his residence, all bearing the distinct crest of House Evaris. Each one filled with sentimental words, hollow apologies, and desperate pleas for forgiveness. If not letters, then there were invitations, requests for a meeting, a private audience, even a stroll through the palace gardens.

And now, here stood Duke Renald himself, uninvited but ever persistent, his presence suffocating as always.

"Your Highness... Nunew, please... listen to me." His voice trembled, perfectly crafted to sound remorseful. "I beg of you, my sincerest apologies for hurting you, for breaking your trust. But my heart still belongs to you. It always has. The alliance... the mistake I made... it was foolish, a lapse in judgment driven by pressure, not by lack of affection. Please... grant me another chance, Nunew. Please."

The pitiful expression, the glistening eyes, the subtle quiver in his lips, the faint tremor in his voice, a performance Renald had perfected over years of manipulation.

But not this time. Not in this life. Nunew was no longer the naive, lovesick boy who once clung to Renald's hollow promises.

He took a measured step back just as Renald attempted to reach for his hands. His gaze sharpened, his posture poised but distant.
"This holds no meaning now, Duke Renald," Nunew replied, his tone edged with formality, stripped of warmth. "There is no relationship remaining between us. Kindly refrain from addressing me so intimately, with my name alone only."

Renald's brows furrowed, frustration bleeding into his expression. His voice rose, laced with disbelief.
"What... what has happened to you? Since the moment you broke the engagement, you... you've become someone else. You-"

He reached out once more, fingers daring to graze Nunew's face in a gesture that might have once been tender. But Nunew stepped aside swiftly, gaze turning colder than winter steel.
"Duke Renald Evaris," he said sharply, "I would advise you to remember your manners. Touching a member of the royal family without consent is not only improper... it is unacceptable."

A breath. A beat. Then a subtle, cutting smile.
"And yes. Something has indeed changed. I have found... a better version of myself." His voice softened, but it was the softness of silk drawn over a blade. "A version that no longer bends beneath the weight of deception, nor crumbles under the poison of false affections."

Turning slightly, Nunew lifted his hand without so much as sparing Renald a glance.
"Chakri," he called smoothly, "escort Duke Evaris out. I have no further time to indulge in irrelevant matters."

His silken robes swept the floor as he strode away, head held high, spine straight, steps echoing with unwavering resolve.

Behind him, Renald stood frozen, dumbfounded and utterly stunned, not by Nunew's words, but by the realization that the man he once controlled now walked beyond his grasp.

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

The quiet hum of the night was disturbed only by the occasional rustle of silk as Chakri attended to the Crown Prince, carefully removing the heavy accessories adorning his neck and wrists. The gentle clinks of gold against porcelain trays filled the room, but neither servant nor master spoke until the weight of unspoken thoughts could no longer be ignored.

"He won't come now, Your Highness," Chakri finally murmured, voice gentle but laced with hope. "Surely... Duke Renald must have given up after today's humiliation."

Nunew scoffed softly, clicking his tongue in disagreement as he shook his head. His gaze, sharp and discerning, remained fixed upon his own reflection in the grand mirror before him.
"No, Chakri. You underestimate him." His fingers idly traced the edge of the vanity. "Renald has never been one to surrender so easily. A bruised ego only makes him more relentless."

He sighed, tapping his fingers thoughtfully against his chin. "We need something stronger... something so irrefutable that it forces him to retreat. But what...?"

Chakri, ever the loyal aide, hesitated as he attempted to ease his master's growing frustration. "Your Highness, perhaps it is best not to strain yourself over this tonight. The royal hunting competition is only two days away. You should preserve your strength and-"

But Chakri's words were cut off as Nunew's eyes suddenly lit up with a mischievous glint, his lips curling into a slow, knowing smile. Turning his gaze back to the mirror, he straightened his posture, a flicker of triumph beginning to form in his expression.
"What if... I were to announce that I am pursuing a relationship with another?"

The brush in Chakri's hand fell still. For a brief moment, the room was suspended in stunned silence.
"Y-Your Highness..." Chakri stammered, nervous tension quickly overtaking him, "That... that is..."

"Perfect." Nunew finished the sentence for him, rising from his seat with graceful certainty. His silk robe shimmered under the soft glow of the lanterns as he gestured elegantly toward his reflection. "Imagine it. A public declaration at the hunting competition. I shall proclaim that whoever claims victory in the tournament... shall win my favor and perhaps, my heart."

His voice was laced with satisfaction, admiring how the idea played out in his mind. "A flawless announcement. Dramatic, dignified, and utterly effective."

Chakri's eyes widened further, torn between awe and anxiety. "Your Highness... forgive my boldness, but... who exactly would this... suitor be?"

Nunew's lips curved, the corners twitching with restrained amusement. "Someone powerful." His voice dropped slightly, thoughtful yet firm. "Someone so formidable, so untouchable, that no noble, least of all Renald, would dare to challenge them. At least... not in public."

He turned toward Chakri, eyes gleaming with renewed determination. "Find me someone like that, Chakri. Whether they hail from this kingdom or another... a duke, a general, a foreign prince, anyone. I do not care about the means but you must find one."

Chakri blinked, shoulders tensing under the sudden pressure. "Your Highness... what exactly are you planning?"

Nunew exhaled softly, his gaze falling back onto the mirror as he studied the person staring back. Not the broken shadow of his former self, but a prince reborn , sharpened by betrayal, and molded by vengeance.

"I am planning," he murmured with quiet satisfaction, "to win, Chakri. To win this life. To seize back everything I lost... and to ensure that I am never anyone's pawn again."

Straightening his shoulders, Nunew allowed his reflection a confident smile before delivering the final command;
"I'm going to send the invitation. Invite him... to the competition."

Chapter Text

The soft scratching of quill against parchment filled the chamber as Prince Nunew sat by the grand writing desk, his hand gracefully penning the final line of the royal invitations for the upcoming hunting competition. His expression was composed, thoughtful , the faintest hint of a cunning smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

The serene quiet was abruptly shattered by the sound of hurried footsteps followed by the sudden flinging open of the chamber doors. Chakri rushed in, breathless, only realizing after crossing the threshold that he had completely neglected to knock.

Eyes wide with embarrassment, Chakri immediately dropped into a deep bow, his voice hurried but sincere. "Forgive me for my rudeness, Your Highness."

Nunew looked up, lips curving into an amused smile, setting down his quill with measured grace. "It's quite alright, Chakri. Now tell me... what news do you bring?"

Chakri hesitated, visibly torn between delivering the report or reconsidering whether he ought to say it at all. He shifted on his feet, wringing his hands before finally summoning the courage to stand straighter. "Your Highness... regarding the matter you entrusted to me..."

He stepped forward and carefully laid several sheets of parchment onto the desk. "I have compiled... three potential candidates."

Nunew's brow rose slightly, curiosity piqued. He reached for the first sheet and examined the portrait attached, a finely drawn image of a gentleman. A gentleman whose hair was already streaked with silver, his face marked with the dignified lines of age.

A sharp, amused breath escaped Nunew as he tilted the portrait toward Chakri. "Chakri," he said, barely containing his laughter, "I asked for a suitor... not a father."

Chakri's face flushed, both from embarrassment and panic. "I... I thought age might be secondary to power, Your Highness..."

With a dramatic swipe of his pen, Nunew crossed the name from the list and promptly moved on. His eyes fell upon the second parchment. This time, his gaze lingered.

He carefully read the name, trailing each word slowly, thoughtfully:
"Zee Vellion... Grand Duke of the Western Kingdom."

Nunew's fingers stilled over the paper as memories from another lifetime surged forth. That name , that face was one he knew well. The very same man who, in his previous life, had extended an open hand of friendship... and who, despite being the son of the king's greatest rival, had tried to warn Nunew of the truth, a truth he had foolishly refused to see.

Now, staring at the image of the man whom Renald had conditioned him to despise, Nunew felt an ironic sort of satisfaction settle over him. This... was perfect.

Chakri, however, was visibly unsettled. Shifting nervously, he cleared his throat, his voice tentative. "Your Highness... That... that candidate..."

Nunew tilted his head, eyes still locked on the portrait. "What about him?"

Chakri swallowed. "That is... Grand Duke Zee Vellion of the Western throne. The son of His Majesty's most formidable rival. Surely... surely you cannot be serious. This... this is-"

"Yes," Nunew cut in smoothly, a triumphant smile spreading across his lips. "I am perfectly serious."

Chakri grimaced, half-exasperated, half-defeated, but there was no mistaking the flicker of admiration beneath his reluctance. "Your Highness... truly, no one in this kingdom matches your audacity."

Leaning back in his chair, Nunew lightly tapped the portrait with a fingertip. "He's the perfect suitor. His title alone is enough to send tremors through the noble houses. No one, not even Renald would dare challenge him in public without risking a political catastrophe."

For a moment, Nunew's gaze softened a flicker of wistfulness beneath his otherwise steely resolve. He remembered the way Duke Zee had once reached out with sincerity, offering friendship. A warning. A lifeline. And how blind he had been to reject it poisoned by Renald's lies.

"Perhaps... this time," he murmured quietly to himself, "I can mend what was broken. Perhaps fate has given me the means to rewrite this chapter."

Snapping back to the present, Nunew pulled a fresh sheet of paper from the stack and dipped his quill in ink, the tip gliding effortlessly as he composed the invitation. His handwriting was elegant, precise, a masterful blend of royal grace and subtle command.

Sealing the letter with his crest, he extended it toward Chakri with an air of finality. "Deliver this. Personally. To Grand Duke Zee of the Western Kingdom."

Chakri accepted the letter with both hands, bowing low. Though his mind raced with apprehension, he knew there was no room for protest. When the Crown Prince wore that look; determined, calculating, and utterly resolute, the entire court itself dared not oppose him.

"As you command, Your Highness."

Nunew turned back to the mirror, smiling at his reflection not out of vanity, but out of satisfaction. For the first time in a long while, he was no longer a pawn on this board.

"This time... I will be the one holding the pieces."

The grand palace courtyard was abuzz with the hum of conversation and the shimmer of opulence. The Royal Hunting Competition was now only a day away, and guests had begun arriving from across the continent : princes, dukes, esteemed nobles, and diplomatic envoys, mostly from kingdoms allied with the Eastern Crown.

Although invitations had been extended to every sovereign state, the rival kingdoms, predictably, had declined, choosing absence over strained civility.

Standing beneath the gilded archway of the reception hall, Crown Prince Nunew fulfilled his royal duty with practiced grace. His smile was poised, his words courteous, as he offered greetings to each arriving dignitary. But beneath that elegant demeanor, a quiet tension simmered his gaze flickering repeatedly toward the grand entrance.

Would he come?
Doubt gnawed at him. Would Grand Duke Zee truly accept the invitation... or was it merely a foolish gamble?

"Your Highness, your ceremonial garments have been prepared," Chakri approached, bowing respectfully.

Nunew sighed softly, the tension in his shoulders barely loosening. "Very well," he murmured, offering a polite nod before excusing himself. His steps were measured, yet it was impossible to ignore the slight heaviness in his stride as he retreated to his chambers.

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

Not long after, the thunder of carriage wheels upon marble broke through the steady hum of conversation.

A sleek, obsidian carriage, adorned with a crest that made even the most seasoned nobles blink in disbelief, rolled to a halt at the palace entrance. Its design was unmistakable.

As the footman stepped down and opened the door, a collective hush swept the courtyard.

And then he stepped out.

Tall. Regal. Draped in finely tailored midnight blue with silver accents, radiating an air of effortless authority that neither silk nor jewels could manufacture. His presence was commanding, the kind that silenced a room without a single word uttered.

For a moment, it felt as though the very air had shifted. The impossible had happened.

"You... What are you doing here?" A duke, Victor, a notoriously sharp-tongued elder blurted, his voice half disbelief, half outrage.

Before he could say more, a figure, the Grand Duke's personal aide stepped forward, expression blank but posture assertive.
"Mind your manners," the aide warned, a mere breath away from stepping in to check the insult.

But a raised hand from the man himself halted him.
"Stand down."

Grand Duke Zee Vellion's lips curved into a cool, almost playful smile.
"Duke Victor... I heard you'd been ill. Yet here you are quite lively, I must say. Ah, the unpredictable woes of old age," he mused with a sigh that was far too theatrical to be sincere.

Victor's face reddened instantly. "You-" he sputtered, coughing, clearly more enraged than ill now.

"Only guests with a formal invitation may enter," another voice interjected, sharper, younger, laced with barely disguised hostility.

"Grand Duke of the Western Kingdom," came yet another, this time dripping with mockery, as though the title itself were a provocation. "May you enlighten us... to what do we owe this unexpected visit?"

For a moment, silence. Then slowly, with deliberate grace Zee reached into the folds of his coat and produced a folded letter.

With a flick of his wrist, he held it up, the unmistakable wax seal of the Crown Prince of the Eastern Kingdom glinting crimson under the sunlight.

The royal seal.

A visible wave of shock rippled through the gathering. The smug smiles faded. Even the most skeptical among them faltered, their eyes widening, their composure slipping.

Zee's smile did not waver as he casually offered the letter toward the nearest official.
"I believe this suffices as my reason for attending," he said, his tone smooth, but there was steel beneath it.

A beat of stunned silence.

Then, hastily, almost stumbling the official bowed low. "Our deepest apologies, Your Grace. We... we were unaware."

But Zee had no interest in their groveling. Not a flicker of acknowledgment crossed his face as he turned away, cloak trailing elegantly behind him.

"Save your apologies," he said coolly over his shoulder. "They were neither asked for... nor needed."

Without another glance at the stunned nobles, he strode past them, heading directly for the palace leaving behind only whispers, widened eyes, and the sharp sting of collective humiliation.

The arrival of Grand Duke Zee Vellion was not just an entrance. It was a declaration.

Chapter Text

The room was heavy with silence, broken only by the rhythmic tapping of the king's fingers against the armrest. His expression was stern, his voice weighted with caution as he addressed the summoned crown prince.

"What is the meaning behind this, Nunew?" he asked, the steel in his tone leaving little room for frivolity.

Nunew inhaled discreetly, bowing his head in a show of respect. "Your Majesty, as the host of this year's Royal Hunting, I extended invitations to all neighboring kingdoms as tradition demands. It simply appears that among our rivals... only Grand Duke Zee accepted the invitation."

His words were chosen carefully, each syllable balanced between diplomacy and plausible innocence.

The king's eyes darkened, his jaw tightening. "Nunew Arisara... I trust you have not forgotten the history between our bloodlines. While Zee Vellion is not the crown prince of the Western Kingdom, he remains the son of my greatest enemy."

Nunew's hands curled slightly at his sides, but his voice remained steady, though tinged with the slightest tremor. "Yes, Your Majesty, I am fully aware. Yet... what gain do we truly find in a rivalry that has persisted for generations? I ask that you consider this not as an act of defiance... but as an opportunity. An opportunity to perhaps extinguish a fire that has burned too long, for the sake of our people, and the generations ahead."

There was a pause. A long, tense pause. The king's eyes bore into his, as though weighing the truth behind his words.

"Hmph..." The king's gaze softened only marginally. "You had best pray, Nunew, that the Grand Duke views this as you do. Should his presence lead to even the smallest spark of unrest, any casualties, or political upheaval... it will be you who bears the consequence."

Nunew lowered himself in a deep bow, concealing the tension in his throat. "Understood, Your Majesty." Without waiting for dismissal, he retreated, carefully schooling his features as he exited.

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

"Your Highness," Chakri's voice greeted him the moment he stepped toward his chambers, "as per your instructions, Grand Duke Zee has been escorted to the east garden."

Nunew drew in a deep breath, gathering himself. His hands smoothed over his robes, adjusting every fold and crease. "Good... I'll go now." A practiced smile curved his lips, one that betrayed none of the nervous thunder beneath his ribs.

The garden was tranquil. A perfectly manicured oasis of blossoms, trimmed hedges, and flowing fountains. But the air was heavy not with floral fragrance, but with the weight of the meeting about to unfold.

Seated beneath the shade of an ancient willow was Grand Duke Zee Vellion, poised and regal, his back straight, one hand resting lazily on the armrest of the marble bench. His personal aide stood behind him like a silent shadow.

Nunew approached from behind, clearing his throat softly. "I trust your journey was comfortable, Your Grace," he said, voice as smooth as silk but carefully measured.

Zee turned, slowly, his eyes lifting to meet the crown prince's. A faint smile curved his lips but it was a smile devoid of warmth. Cool. Distant. Measured.
"With the honor of your invitation... and your personal wishes, yes, I arrived safely, Your Highness," he replied, his tone polite but laced with unmistakable frost.

Something in that response made Nunew's heart clench. He recognized that smile, the one worn by a man who had once extended his hand... only to have it slapped away.

Gathering himself, Nunew gestured gracefully. "Please... do take a seat." He poured the tea himself, the porcelain clinking softly against the tray.

But Zee, clearly done with pleasantries, exhaled a sharp sigh.
"Let us dispense with formalities. What is it that you want, Your Highness?"

Nunew met his gaze, steady but cautious, offering the tea cup with both hands. "To... deepen the bond between our nations," he answered carefully.

Zee let out a sharp, humorless laugh, the sound cutting through the garden air like a blade.
"Your Highness... let's not insult each other's intelligence. No one in this palace believes that."

Nunew's grip on his cup tightened briefly. He set it down with deliberate care. "Then I will be honest," he confessed quietly, lifting his gaze. "I need your help."

Zee's eyes narrowed, his lips twitching upward not in kindness, but in the satisfaction of having confirmed his suspicion.
"Ah... as I suspected. And tell me, what help might this humble duke offer the glorious crown prince of the East?" he asked, voice thick with irony as he leaned forward slightly, elbow resting against the table.

Nunew inhaled slowly, gathering his courage. His hands trembled faintly beneath the table, but he kept his expression controlled.
"As you may have heard... I annulled my engagement. I am seeking a suitor, someone... formidable enough to ensure Duke Renald never dares approach me again."

For a heartbeat, silence. Then... Zee leaned back, one brow arching, an expression of faint amusement playing at his lips. "Fascinating... And tell me, Your Highness, weren't you the very one who once declared me unworthy of your acquaintance? What prompted this... sudden change of heart?"

Because I now know how it ends...
Because I now see the traps that once ensnared me... the poison I mistook for love...

Nunew's lips trembled ever so slightly. "Because..." his voice softened, "...because you are the only one powerful enough. The only one capable of offering me the protection I... I desperately need."

For a moment, the weight of the past pressed upon him, the memory of shackles, of cruel hands of Renald carving scars into his skin, of crying and begging for trust from someone who had already condemned him. His fingers twitched as though remembering the phantom pain.

Unbidden, a single tear slipped down his cheek. Soft. Silent. Unforgivable in its vulnerability.

Even Zee's usually impassive eyes flickered with surprise. For a fleeting second, the carefully constructed wall around his heart trembled. He saw it, the desperation... the echo of suffering... the raw, unspoken plea beneath Nunew's elegant posture.

"Your Highness-" Chakri, alarmed, stepped forward, hand lifting with a handkerchief.

But Nunew raised a hand gently. "No... I am fine." He laughed, bitter, hollow wiping the tear with the back of his hand before replacing his sadness with the practiced serenity of royalty.

The mask was back in place.
"I simply hope for your presence tomorrow at the competition. I leave the decision entirely to your discretion, Your Grace. Regardless... I wish you a pleasant stay."

He rose, offering a dignified curtsy. Zee mirrored the motion with a graceful bow, though the weight of the conversation lingered heavily between them.

Without another word, Nunew turned and walked away his spine straight, his steps unwavering... even if his heart was anything but.

Here is a refined, stretched, and polished version of this scene, with elegant but understandable wording that matches the royal tone, tension, and subtle emotions of the characters:

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

The quiet hum of the evening filled the guest chamber, broken only by the faint crackle of firewood in the ornate hearth. Grand Duke Zee Vellion sat at his writing desk, fingers steepled beneath his chin, deep in contemplation.

The Crown Prince Nunew he had encountered earlier... was nothing like the one engraved in his memory. The familiar, polished smile was still present, as was his graceful composure. Yet, beneath it all, his eyes burned with something unspoken, something fierce... almost desperate.

"Your Grace," a voice broke his thoughts. "I believe... caution is warranted. We are, after all, deep within enemy territory. This... could very well be a trap."

It was Evan, his ever-loyal aide, his expression drawn tight with concern. He stepped closer, his posture stiff, fists clenched as though preparing to ward off unseen threats.

Zee tilted his head slightly, regarding him with an amused glint. "Oh? And why do you think so?" he asked, fingers absently grazing the edge of the invitation that still lay open on the desk.

Evan took a firm step forward, tone sharpening. "Your Grace, surely you've not forgotten... the ballroom."

There it was the lingering sting of old wounds.

"How he dismissed you... how he stood there silent as that snake, Duke Renald, veiled his insults beneath courteous words. His Highness did nothing... not a word of objection, not even the courtesy of defusing the tension."

The offense was palpable in Evan's eyes as though it were a personal slight against himself as well.

But instead of anger, Zee let out a low chuckle, folding his arms across his chest. "Evan... he didn't insult me. He simply... refused my hand."

"That distinction is irrelevant, Your Grace," Evan countered immediately, his brow furrowed. "Refusal in public before half the noble court is humiliation all the same. Worse yet, he watched as Renald tossed subtle snarks your way... and pretended not to notice."

Zee leaned back slightly in his chair, resting his chin thoughtfully against his knuckles. A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips not one of amusement, but of reflection.

"Mm... true. Yet, has he not now broken that very engagement?" he remarked pointedly, arching a brow.

Evan stiffened, his eyes widening slightly. "So... does this mean you intend to accept his proposal, Your Grace? Surely... you cannot be serious."

But Zee offered no answer, none that Evan wished to hear. Instead, his gaze drifted once more to the open letter resting on the desk, the crimson royal seal of the Eastern Crown catching the light.

His fingers traced the delicate curve of the wax imprint, as though the answer lay hidden within the folds of parchment.

Chapter Text

Morning sunlight filtered through the lattice windows, casting delicate patterns upon the polished marble floors. The scent of fresh roses mingled with the subtle fragrance of burning incense. Crown Prince Nunew stood before the full-length mirror, adorned in his ceremonial attire, a masterpiece of silver embroidery upon silk as pale as morning frost.

"Your Highness, hold still," Chakri murmured, fastening a jade pendant at his waist, followed by layers of delicate gold chains across his collar. "The clasp must be secure... There. You are ready."

Nunew exhaled softly, but it did little to calm the tremor in his chest. His reflection was poised, every fold, every ornament immaculate but the unease in his heart was impossible to smooth away.

'Will he come?'
The question had haunted him throughout the sleepless night. This was his one chance. His single opportunity to escape the suffocating chains of the past... and rewrite his fate.

"You look magnificent, Your Highness," Chakri stepped aside, bowing slightly. "Shall we proceed?"

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

The ceremonial hall was already bustling, a magnificent assembly of nobles, foreign envoys, and aristocrats seated in their designated rows, their voices weaving a tapestry of whispers, speculation, and subtle gossip.

Trumpets sounded, slicing through the hum of conversation.

"His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Nunew Arisara, is arriving."

The murmurings dissolved into hushed reverence as Nunew entered, his steps graceful yet commanding, a perfect picture of royal dignity. Heads bowed in deference; fans snapped shut; conversations halted mid-sentence.

"Good morning, esteemed guests," he began, voice smooth yet firm, echoing through the grand hall. "I trust your accommodations were satisfactory and that you rested well. For this year's Royal Hunt, I expect nothing less than a spectacle, one grander than any before."

A servant approached, presenting a polished silver goblet filled with crimson wine. Nunew accepted it gracefully, raising it high.
"Let this feast mark the beginning of an honorable competition. May fortune favor the brave!"

"To the hunt!" the crowd roared in response, lifting their own cups.

The grand feast commenced in full splendor, tables overflowing with delicacies from every corner of the kingdom, music lilting softly in the background, while crystal laughter mixed with political murmurings.

But Nunew barely tasted the food, nor did he partake in conversation. His eyes scanned the hall again... and again. Searching. Hoping. Waiting.

Will he come...?
Disappointment began to creep in, heavy and suffocating. The last flicker of hope dimmed with every passing moment.

"Your Highness... what shall we do now?" Chakri's voice, though gentle, carried an undertone of worry.

Nunew did not reply. He simply inhaled, forcing a fragile composure upon his features as he stood.
"The hunt is about to commence," an official informed, bowing.

Swallowing the weight pressing on his heart, Nunew turned towards the ceremonial dais, preparing to ascend...

Until...

"Apologies for my late arrival, Your Highness."

The voice. Smooth. Deep. Unmistakable.

Every muscle in Nunew's body stilled. His heart stuttered then surged. Slowly, he turned.

There he stood.
Grand Duke Zee Vellion.

Clad in a regal ensemble of obsidian velvet embroidered with silver ornaments, he exuded an air of composed power, one that commanded the attention of the entire hall.

"You are excused, Your Grace," Nunew replied, a smile blooming unconsciously across his lips, softer... warmer... filled with genuine relief.
"Thank you for considering my request."

Zee returned the expression subtle, yet undeniably gentler than the day before. "You flatter me, Your Highness. The honor is mine."

For a moment, the grand hall fell into suspended silence. Nobles exchanged curious glances as the two men stood face-to-face, locked in a silent exchange that none could decipher.

Zee was the first to break the stillness.
"Regarding your... proposal, Your Highness..."

Nunew's breath hitched. His pulse raced. 'Please... please...' Every possible scenario played in his mind; acceptance, refusal, mockery...

"I accept."

The words struck like a bell striking in a temple clear, final, undeniable.

A wave of relief flooded Nunew, so fierce and overwhelming that it threatened to buckle his knees. But he kept his poise, offering a gracious nod. "Very well, Your Grace. I am... deeply grateful."

Before more could be exchanged, Chakri quietly tugged at his sleeve, reminding him of the duty at hand.

Taking a steadying breath, Nunew stepped forward, voice rising to command the room once more.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the Royal Hunting Competition shall now commence."

"The rules are as follows: Participants may employ any weapon, mount, or means within reason to secure their prey. Whosoever returns by tomorrow morning bearing the rarest and most valuable hunt... shall be declared the victor."

A ripple of anticipation surged through the gathered nobles, bets whispered, speculations ignited.

But then...

Nunew's next words silenced the entire hall.

"Moreover..." his gaze swept across the sea of faces, "the victor of this hunt... shall claim a prize most coveted."

Gasps filled the chamber.

"Whosoever triumphs... shall win my hand. I shall name them as my partner."

A roar of astonishment, murmurs of disbelief, and gasps of delight exploded across the room. Nobles stiffened. Eyes widened. Some leaned eagerly forward; others exchanged wary, calculating glances.

But Nunew barely heard them. His gaze drifted beyond the sea of startled faces... landing upon one man alone.

Grand Duke Zee Vellion.

The man who, perhaps... held the keys to not only his survival... but to rewriting the cruel fate that once destroyed him.

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

The earlier stir of shock had gradually faded away, replaced by an air of solemn focus as the royal hunting competition officially commenced. One by one, the participants traded their formal attire for finely tailored hunting garments  designed for both elegance and practicality. Rich fabrics of forest green, midnight blue, and deep maroon were adorned with silver embroidery and house insignias, complemented by light armor pieces strapped across shoulders and waists.

Prized warhorses, their coats shimmering under the morning sun, were led forward. Their reins were decorated with gilded threads and insignias of their noble houses, their polished saddles promising both stability and prestige.

An array of weapons was presented at the arming station; longbows crafted from yew and inlaid with gold, lances honed to a deadly gleam, and swords balanced to perfection.

Seated upon the elevated podium, a grand tent draped in the royal blue and gold of the Eastern Kingdom, on the hunting ground at the forest's edge, Crown Prince Nunew maintained his regal composure. From his elevated position, he observed the nobles as they prepared themselves, some with stoic determination, others with the thinly veiled desperation of those hungry for status, power, or his hand.

Participants approached the podium in turn, offering carefully practiced smiles and words meant to charm.
"My greatest effort shall be for you, Your Highness," one declared, bowing low before mounting his steed.

To each, Nunew responded with a measured, polite smile gracious but distant, betraying neither favoritism nor disdain. His gaze, however, never lingered longer than necessary.

Then. A presence that stirred only cold familiarity rode forward.

"Your Highness," purred the voice of Duke Renald Evaris, mounted atop a sleek black stallion, his posture as arrogantly self-assured as ever. "I will win you back. I always knew you would come back to me."

The polite smile vanished.

In its place, a frigid stare, sharp, unflinching, and utterly devoid of warmth. Nunew's gaze held the weight of every betrayal, every scar that name conjured. His silence alone struck with the force of a thousand words.

Renald's expression faltered briefly, a flicker of discomfort betraying his otherwise rehearsed confidence but before he could summon another hollow vow-

"Must you truly make the challenge so difficult, Your Highness?"

The tension shattered like fragile porcelain beneath the velvety teasing of Grand Duke Zee Vellion's voice.

He approached atop a magnificent ivory stallion, its silver-threaded rein glinting in the sunlight. Clad in an impeccably fitted hunting attire of deep obsidian trimmed with cobalt silk, a slender sword rested at his hip while a longbow was slung casually across his back.

Unlike the others, Zee did not bother to veil his intentions beneath empty flattery. His voice, though teasing, carried an undercurrent of confidence edged with the faintest hint of provocation.

For the first time since the ceremony began, Nunew felt his tense shoulders loosen, the suffocating tension easing just slightly. A soft, genuine smile curved his lips, one free of courtly pretense.

"Then, my best regards are reserved solely for you, Your Grace," Nunew replied, the faintest warmth threading through his poised tone.

Zee offered a lazy smile in response, but his gaze flickered intentionally, toward Renald. There was nothing subtle about it. The smug tilt of his head, the gleam in his eyes. It was a statement, a challenge, and a dismissal all at once.

Without sparing Renald so much as another glance, Zee guided his stallion toward the forest's edge, his posture composed, exuding an effortless grace that drew more than a few lingering gazes from the assembly.

His figure, framed by the dappled greens of the woodland, disappeared into the thickets as the horns blared, signaling the official commencement of the hunt.

But all present knew those horns did not merely signal the pursuit of game. This was a hunt for pride, for power, and perhaps... for something far more fragile, the right to rewrite fate itself.

Chapter Text

The day slowly surrendered to dusk, and by morning's light, the echoes of the hunt gradually faded into the rustling winds of the forest. The royal tent once again came alive with anticipation, nobles and guests gathering with bated breath as the hunting competition neared its conclusion.

Seated upon his elevated dais, Crown Prince Nunew returned to his formal station, his gaze fixed toward the distant treeline, awaiting, hoping for a particular rider to emerge.

One by one, the hunters began to return. Some carried modest prey ; an ordinary boar, a stag, a brace of pheasants. Others arrived empty-handed, bloodied or bruised, bearing only the wounds of the wild as proof of their efforts.

Yet none of this held Nunew's interest. His mind was consumed by the absence of one man. Where was he?

A sudden wave of applause and cheers erupted from the crowd. Nunew's eyes lit with hope only to have it quickly extinguished when the figure stepping forward revealed himself.

"Duke Renald Evaris has slain a giant wild boar, the most formidable hunt thus far!" the herald declared proudly.

A ripple of murmurs spread through the assembly.
"It appears the victor has been decided."
"Indeed. The hunt draws to a close. The House of Evaris claims victory once again."
"Have you forgotten? The Grand Duke of the Western Kingdom is yet to return."
"So what? If the horns sound before his arrival, his effort is meaningless."

The grounds buzzed with speculation, bets quietly exchanged beneath folded fans and whispered breaths.

At the center of it all, Nunew sat gripping the embroidered handkerchief in his lap so tightly that the threads strained beneath his fingers.

"Your Highness... the signal horns are set to sound any moment now," Chakri murmured, his voice laced with uneasiness.

Just then.

The sharp cry of a horse's neigh pierced the air.

All heads turned as the herald's voice rang out with sudden urgency.
"Grand Duke Zee Vellion of the Western Kingdom returns... bearing a white deer!"

Gasps overtook the crowd. A flurry of astonished voices rippled through the gathering.
"A white deer?! Impossible!"
"I was unaware our forests even harbored such creatures!"
"Not just any deer... a white deer. They are so rare, their appearance is said to be an omen of divine favor."
"Astounding... the Grand Duke truly lives up to his name."

The tension that had coiled around Nunew's chest finally unraveled. He rose from his grand chair, a smile blooming across his face, one radiant with both pride and relief.

Zee dismounted gracefully, his posture elegant as ever, leading the pristine creature by its reins.

"Apologies for my delayed return, Your Highness," Zee began with an ease that suggested he had not the slightest concern for the murmurs around him. "Finding the necessary herbs took considerably longer than expected."

Nunew blinked in confusion. "Herbs? Were you injured, Your Grace?" His gaze instinctively scanned Zee from head to toe, searching for any sign of harm.

A soft chuckle escaped the Grand Duke. "No, Your Highness. The herbs were not for me. They were to create a tranquilizing blend potent enough to subdue the deer without taking its life, effective for a day or so."

He gestured subtly toward the creature now being carefully untied from his steed. Indeed, the white deer lay upon the ground, unharmed except for a single arrow mark at its hind leg, a clean shot, clearly intended to incapacitate rather than kill.

A rare act of mercy in a competition driven by bloodsport.

Nunew's smile deepened, his gaze flickering between the rare beast, the murmuring crowd, and the man who now stood before him.

Turning to face the assembly, his voice rang out with regal clarity:
"The results are clear. The winner of this year's royal hunting competition and the winner of my heart shall be Grand Duke Zee Vellion of the Western Kingdom."

A silence gripped the crowd, followed by waves of applause mingled with stunned whispers,  disbelief, admiration, and, from some, barely concealed envy.

"Let it be known that all game hunted today shall be prepared for tonight's feast. Gentlemen, esteemed guests, you are free now to retire and rest. The hunt has surely tested your spirit. Once preparations are complete, a servant shall summon you for the banquet."

With that, the nobles began dispersing, some satisfied, others discontent, but all still speaking in hushed tones about the Grand Duke's impossible hunt.

When the grounds were nearly emptied, a small voice broke the quiet.
"Your Grace, what shall be done with this fawn?" Evan, Zee's aide, asked, cradling a delicate fawn in his arms.

Zee did not answer him immediately. Instead, he turned toward Nunew, his expression softening just slightly.
"Your Highness... I have a humble request."

"Please, speak." Nunew replied with a polite nod.

"When the white deer awakens, I ask that its wounds be treated and that both it and its fawn be released back into the forest. It was never my intent to rob the wild of such rare creatures permanently."

Surprise flickered in Nunew's gaze, followed almost immediately by a warmth that filled his chest.
"Of course. I shall have a shelter prepared for it until it recovers. Once it regains its strength, it will be returned to its rightful home."

"I am grateful, Your Highness," Zee replied, offering a deep bow. As he turned to take his leave, however...

"Wait," Nunew called softly, his voice laced with something both hesitant and earnest.

Zee turned, an elegant brow arching in curiosity.

With a faint flush brushing his cheeks, Nunew extended a delicately embroidered handkerchief toward him. The royal crest shimmered under the sunlight, stitched with golden thread.
"It is tradition," he explained, voice quieter now but unwavering. "A handkerchief bestowed by the royal host signifies... a formal declaration... not merely as the champion of the hunt... but as the one chosen."

For a brief moment, Zee stared at the offered token, his usually composed expression faltering just enough for something softer, more private, to surface.

Then, with deliberate care, he reached out and accepted it, folding it neatly before tucking it into his chest pocket.
"An honor... truly," he murmured, gaze never leaving Nunew's.

And for a fleeting second, time seemed to pause, the weight of the crowd, the whispers of the court, and the burdens of the past fading into nothing but the space between them.

Just as Grand Duke Zee took his leave, a sharp, infuriated voice sliced through the air, drawing the attention of those still lingering nearby.

"Nunew! You cannot do this to me!"

Exactly as expected, the voice belonged to none other than Duke Renald Evaris. His face was flushed with rage, his posture rigid with barely contained fury, as though the very air around him bristled with his outrage.

Nunew did not flinch. Instead, he squared his shoulders and faced him with the poised dignity befitting his station. His gaze was cold, an unbreakable wall of royal authority.

"Mind your manners, Duke Renald. It is Your Royal Highness to you," Nunew declared, his tone icy, each word sharp enough to cut.

"Does it even matter anymore?" Renald snapped back, bitterness dripping from every syllable.

But before Nunew could retort, a firm voice interjected. Chakri, ever the vigilant aide, stepped forward with an unflinching glare.
"Duke Renald, such blatant disrespect is not merely unbecoming but punishable by law. Addressing the Crown Prince without his proper title violates royal protocol. I advise you to remember your place."

For a brief moment, it appeared as though Renald might lash out further. His hands clenched into trembling fists, his eyes burning with humiliation and fury. But as the weight of the stares around them bore down on him, nobles, guards, and servants alike bearing witness, a flicker of restraint wrestled against his pride.

He exhaled sharply, stepping back as though the realization of his stupidity finally struck. His glare lingered on Nunew, brimming with accusation and resentment, before he turned on his heel and stormed off, muttering curses under his breath.

Nunew released a long, steady breath, shaking his head ever so slightly, more disappointed than surprised by the display. "Some men never learn," he murmured to himself, before straightening his robes.

With his composure fully restored, he turned gracefully and departed, allowing the matter to dissolve behind him like dust scattered to the wind.

Chapter Text

"Are you deliberately trying to make a fool out of me, Nunew Arisara?"

The thunderous voice echoed through the marble walls of the royal chamber. Summoned before his father, the king, Nunew stood composed but inwardly bracing himself.

"What part of 'Zee Vellion is the son of my sworn enemy' did you fail to comprehend?" the king roared, slamming his palm against the armrest. "What is this absurdity? This public declaration... made without my consent?"

His majesty's voice trembled with fury, but beneath it, there lingered something deeper, a father's fear.

Nunew inhaled deeply, meeting his father's piercing gaze without flinching.
"Your Majesty, the Grand Duke was declared victor in accordance with the rules. My announcement was merely in line with the prize I had set, fairly, publicly, and rightfully."

"That is irrelevant!" the king snapped, rising partially from his seat before a cough seized him briefly, harsh, dry, but enough to momentarily break the rhythm of his rage. "You may host games. You may grant titles of honor. But to be seen consorting with the son of my greatest rival much less to declare him as your chosen, is utterly unacceptable!"

His voice softened not in volume, but in gravity.
"You will not be associated with him. You will not entangle yourself in matters that may jeopardize this kingdom's safety. Am I clear?"

For a fleeting moment, a familiar ache flared in Nunew's chest, the cruel reminder that no matter how gilded his cage, he was still tethered by duty, by politics, by expectations.

But surrender? To die quietly for the sake of pride and outdated rivalries? Never. Not in this life.

His tone shifted softer, yet laced with wounded conviction.
"Then what would you have me do, Father?" he asked, deliberately discarding the title of majesty, leaning on the bond of blood between them. "Marry Renald? The man who betrayed me? who was disloyal, deceitful, and unworthy of both me and this kingdom? Would you rather I submit to humiliation and ruin, just to satisfy appearances?"

The king faltered, his stern visage flickering under the weight of those words. "Nunew... this is not merely about Renald-"

"Then what is it, Father?" Nunew pressed, his voice strained but steady, eyes gleaming with a mixture of sadness and defiance. "Is it that you do not trust me?"

Silence fell.

The king's posture slackened, his hands curling into the fabric of his robes. His gaze softened not in weakness, but in that unique weariness only fathers carried for the sons they could neither control nor protect.
"It is not that I do not trust you," he admitted, voice lowering, heavy with sincerity. "How could I not trust you? You are my son. My heir. My pride."

His voice caught slightly. "But it is the western kingdom I fear. The blood that runs through Duke Zee's veins is the same blood that fueled generations of enmity. You are treading dangerously close to a serpent's den, Nunew. Who is to say what intentions lie behind polite smiles?"

Nunew's heart softened momentarily, he understood. Underneath the crown, underneath the politics, this was not a king speaking. This was simply a father... terrified of losing his son.

But how could he possibly explain? How could he confess that in another life, in another cruel fate the only hand that had reached out to save him was the very one the king called a serpent?

"Father," Nunew spoke at last, his voice gentler but no less resolute, "please, do not distress yourself unnecessarily. I give you my word, no harm shall come to me. I know exactly what I am doing."

The king stared at him long and hard. And finally after a sigh burdened with both resignation and helplessness he closed his eyes, leaning back into his throne.
"You are as stubborn as your mother was," he murmured. "I see there is little I can do to sway you now."

Nunew smiled softly, lowering his head in a graceful bow, but in his heart, the fire of determination blazed brighter than ever.

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the palace gardens transformed into an ethereal banquet of light and laughter. Soft lanterns floated above the grand outdoor pavilion, casting a warm glow upon the gleaming trays of delicacies and goblets of wine that adorned every table. Gentle melodies from the royal musicians wove through the air, blending seamlessly with the hum of cheerful conversation.

Unlike the rigid formalities of court ceremonies, this evening was a rare break, a celebration where nobility mingled freely, dressed in lighter, elegant garments rather than heavy ceremonial robes.

Laughter echoed. Silver clinked against porcelain. Servants wove between guests, offering exquisite dishes and exotic wines.

Then, a subtle shift in the atmosphere.

As Crown Prince Nunew entered with his father, the king, a wave of graceful bows and polite greetings followed them. The royal pair acknowledged each nod with practiced ease, slowly making their way to the raised platform at the head of the garden.

"We are pleased to see everyone enjoying the feast," Nunew announced softly, his voice poised but gentle.

But before the hum of conversation could fully resume, another presence shifted the balance of the gathering.

A sudden ripple of murmurs spread as Grand Duke Zee Vellion strode confidently into the garden, his personal aide trailing behind him.

"Is that...?" someone whispered, eyes widening.
"It is! Look,  the Crown Prince's handkerchief..." another voice finished, barely concealing their astonishment.

"How can this be?" gasped yet another, disbelief lacing every word.
"Look carefully! the royal crest. Embroidered on the edge. There's no mistake."

All eyes fixed upon the neatly folded silk handkerchief, proudly displayed in the chest pocket of Zee's midnight-blue attire, the unmistakable emblem of the Eastern royal family embroidery  gleaming under the lantern light.

And yet, the sea of curious stares, gossiping lips, and subtle glances did little to shake the grand duke. Unbothered, poised, and unrelenting, he walked straight toward the royal platform, his gaze briefly, but purposefully, lingering on Nunew.

Despite the undercurrent of unease, the king maintained his composure. With restrained diplomacy, he rose from his seat and extended a hand.
"As King of the Eastern Kingdom, I formally congratulate Grand Duke Zee on his victory."

Zee offered a subtle bow, accepting the handshake with grace. "I am deeply honored, Your Majesty," he replied, his tone polite, measured, yet carrying an undercurrent of defiance for anyone sharp enough to notice.

For a man branded the son of a lifelong rival, he displayed a startling elegance, devoid of hostility.

Before long, the king excused himself, retreating early from the feast with the excuse of weariness. But both Nunew and Zee could guess the true cause : discomfort.

As the king departed, Zee's voice broke the lingering tension.
"Are you truly not going to enjoy the feast, Your Highness?" he asked, casually selecting a goblet from a passing servant.

Nunew offered a polite, strained smile, glancing once at the banquet table, then back at Zee.
"No... I find I have little appetite tonight," he replied softly, masking his true reason, the lingering fear that someone, perhaps even among these esteemed nobles, might attempt to poison him... as had happened once before, the cause of his death.

To his quiet relief, Zee didn't press further. Instead, the grand duke straightened slightly, as though suddenly remembering something.
"Ah, yes... I nearly forgot," he gestured toward his aide. "I have something for you."

Nunew tilted his head slightly in curiosity. "For me?"

Zee reached into the arms of his aide and turned back toward the crown prince, cradled in his hands was a small, delicate creature.

A snow-white rabbit, soft as clouds, with downy fur and bright pink eyes that glistened like polished rubies beneath the lantern light.

Nunew's stoic expression immediately melted. His eyes widened in delighted surprise as he instinctively cupped his hands forward, accepting the gentle creature.
"Oh... how adorable...!" he breathed, his voice softening unconsciously. "Where... where did you find it?"

Zee allowed himself a small, genuine smile at the sight of Nunew's reaction.
"During the hunt," he explained, folding his arms with nonchalance. "It was injured, likely caught in one of the traps set by another hunter. I... thought it might suit you better than the usual trophies of blood and antlers."

Nunew's fingers gently stroked the rabbit's velvety ears as a small, genuine laugh escaped his lips light, delicate, a sound that hadn't graced his voice in far too long.
"A gift...?" he asked, peeking up at Zee with a trace of shy warmth.

"A present for you, Your Highness," Zee confirmed, his gaze lingering just a moment longer than was proper and perhaps, neither of them minded.

As the music and chatter faded into the background, Zee extended a hand with a subtle smile.
"May I be granted the honor of a walk with Your Highness?" he asked, voice low yet sincere.

Nunew hesitated for a brief second before offering a small nod. "Of course, Your Grace."

With that, the two quietly slipped away from the lively feast, wandering side by side along the winding paths of the royal garden. The night was serene, illuminated by the gentle glow of moonlight reflecting off marble statues and dew-kissed petals.

Nunew cradled the soft, white rabbit in his arms, fingers absentmindedly stroking its velvety fur. Neither spoke for a while but the silence between them was not burdensome. On the contrary, it felt... strangely comfortable.

At length, Nunew broke the quiet, his voice thoughtful yet gentle as his gaze lingered on the silver-lit sky.
"Grand Duke Zee... may I ask something?"

"Anything, Your Highness," Zee replied, hands loosely clasped behind his back, walking at an unhurried pace.

Nunew's fingers brushed lightly along the rabbit's ears. "Are you... truly the Eastern Kingdom's rival?" His voice was soft but earnest, the weight of his thoughts evident in the question.

Zee slowed his steps, then tilted his head slightly, arching a brow in playful amusement.
"Hmm... shall I prove it to you, Your Highness?" he asked, a mischievous lilt in his tone.

Startled, Nunew's head snapped up to look at him, wide eyes searching, uncertain whether the grand duke was teasing or truly serious.

The sight seemed to amuse Zee further. A rich, low chuckle escaped his lips, carried on the gentle night breeze.
"Relax," he said, his eyes softening as his laughter subsided. "I have no intention of causing you harm."

His gaze lingered, more tender now than teasing. "After all... I am the one courting you, Your Highness."

The words, though delivered with his usual smooth confidence, held an undeniable sincerity that made Nunew's heart skip just for a moment.

Flustered, Nunew instinctively tightened his hold around the soft rabbit in his arms. The warmth slowly began to creep up his neck, coloring the tips of his ears a soft pink under the moonlight.

Averting his gaze, he cleared his throat, gathering whatever composure he had left.
"I-I shall retire for the night. May you have a blissful evening, Your Grace," he stammered, offering a quick, courteous bow.

Without daring to meet Zee's gaze again, he turned briskly on his heel, hurried steps rustling against the stone pathway as he retreated toward the palace.

Behind him, a rich, velvety laugh echoed deep, amused, and entirely too pleased. Zee stood there watching the prince's retreating figure, an unmistakable smile tugging at his lips.
"Adorable..." he murmured under his breath before turning toward his own quarters, hands tucked behind his back, still chuckling softly to himself.

Chapter Text

The morning sun had barely risen when a knock echoed on the guest chamber's door. Zee, still dressed in his night robe, raised a brow as Chakri entered with a courteous bow.
"Your Grace, His Royal Highness has requested your presence immediately."

Zee sighed, running a hand through his tousled hair. "Isn't it far too early for breakfast, Your Highness?" he muttered under his breath as he hastily changed into his formal attire.

Soon, he was seated once again in the Crown Prince's private garden pavilion, the crisp morning breeze carrying the faint scent of jasmine.

Nunew greeted him with a warm smile, pouring him a cup of tea as if nothing was amiss. "Really? You should try this tea. It's excellent," Nunew deflected with a light chuckle, sliding the porcelain cup toward him.

Zee accepted it, taking a sip... then another, then a third, stealing subtle glances at the prince between each one. Finally, unable to hold back his curiosity, he set the cup down and asked bluntly, "All right, Your Highness, what is this truly about?"

Nunew laughed nervously, his fingers fidgeting before unfolding a piece of parchment and laying it neatly on the table. "I've come to realize... it's best if we formalize our agreement. A written contract for our alliance."

Zee blinked once, then leaned forward with a smirk tugging at his lips, bewildered. "A contract? You summoned me at dawn... for this?"

Nunew nodded with utmost seriousness, though the nervous twitch of his lips betrayed him. "Yes. It's... necessary."

Zee narrowed his eyes, playful suspicion dancing in them. "Tell me, Your Highness... this wouldn't happen to be because of what I said last night, would it?"

Nunew nearly choked on his tea. "No! Of course not-" he stammered, forcing an awkward laugh.

[Flashback: The Night Before]

"Your Highness, how could you be so careless?!" Chakri's exasperated voice echoed through the chamber.
Nunew sighed. "Calm down. Nothing happened."
"'Nothing happened,' you say, but for all we know, the Grand Duke may have meant every word he said-" Chakri continued to nag.
"It's fine-"
"No, it's not fine. And don't tell me you haven't even considered drafting a contract between you two."
"A contract? For what?" Nunew asked, genuinely confused.
Chakri groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "To protect yourself, Your Highness. This is politics, not a fairytale. Tomorrow morning. Draft it. Sign it. No excuses."
Nunew huffed in defeat. "Fine, fine. Tomorrow morning it is."

[End Flashback]

Back in the present, Nunew sipped his tea, trying to maintain his composure. "You don't have an issue with it, do you?" he asked cautiously.

Zee leaned back, folding his arms as a smirk curved his lips. "Not at all. But I am curious... what prompted this sudden commitment to formality?"

Averting his gaze, Nunew shrugged. "I simply thought... it's best we begin this arrangement founded on loyalty and clarity."

"Mm," Zee hummed thoughtfully, fingers drumming lightly against the table. "So then, what does this contract require of me?"

Nunew straightened, suddenly more confident. "To seal this agreement, you must provide something, a token, a pledge, that ensures your loyalty. Something meaningful."

Zee chuckled, a low, rich sound. "And if I say I can't?"

"Then..." Nunew narrowed his eyes but grinned faintly. "You would be breaching our negotiations before they even begin."

Zee laughed quietly, shaking his head in amusement. "Relax, Your Highness. I'm teasing. I can. I'll have my aide deliver something suitable by this evening."

Nunew exhaled, relieved. "Very well, Your Grace. Then kindly sign here." He slid the paper toward him, pointing to the line at the bottom.

Zee leaned over, plucked the quill, and with a dramatic flourish signed his name. "There. Consider our fates officially intertwined."

Their gazes met for a long moment, an unspoken understanding flickering beneath the teasing smiles.

As promised, later that afternoon, Zee's personal aide, Evan, arrived at the Crown Prince's chamber carrying a finely crafted velvet box, sealed with the insignia of the Western Kingdom. With a respectful bow, Evan presented it forward.

"Your Royal Highness," he began, carefully lifting the lid to reveal the contents within, "this is the pledge my lord has chosen."

Nestled inside was a pendant, elegant yet commanding, crafted in burnished gold, engraved with the crest of the Western Kingdom. A symbol of authority, legacy, and power.

"This is no ordinary token, Your Highness," Evan explained, his tone formal but edged with solemnity. "It is my lord's family heirloom. Whoever bears this insignia shall be recognized, respected, and, if necessary, protected by every subject loyal to the Western Kingdom. Its significance is absolute."

Nunew was momentarily stunned. He had expected something modest, a ceremonial blade, perhaps, or a signet ring. But this... this far exceeded anything he could have imagined. For a duke...no, a Grand Duke, to part with his family's most sacred heirloom was nothing short of monumental.

Recovering his composure, Nunew gently lifted the box with both hands, cradling it as if it were made of glass. "I am... truly honored," he replied, his voice soft but steady. "Convey my deepest gratitude to His Grace. I shall safeguard this with the utmost respect."

Evan offered a small bow, "My lord was certain you would. This is now yours, Your Highness. May it serve as a shield when needed... and a reminder of the bond you now share."

Nunew's fingers brushed over the emblem as a quiet thought echoed in his mind:
This isn't just a symbol of protection... it's a declaration to the world.

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

Nunew had known it was only a matter of time before the noble houses voiced their opposition to his courtship with Grand Duke Zee. What he hadn't anticipated was how quickly they would strike, only three days had passed, and already, he found himself summoned before the Noble Council. Again,

The Noble Court, the nobles in the court. Nunew sat composed, regal, but beneath his calm expression, a storm churned. "If only I could strangle each of them into silence," he mused inwardly. "It would save me so much effort."

But instead of acting on his dangerous imaginings, he kept his hands folded neatly, his gaze lowered, and waited.

"Your Majesty, this alliance is reckless!" one noble declared with a raised voice.
"He is the son of our greatest enemy," another cried with conviction.

And just as Nunew had expected, Duke Renald stepped forward, ever the performer.
"Your Majesty," Renald began, his voice tinged with feigned injury, "His Royal Highness saw fit to dissolve our engagement over a trivial misunderstanding, yet now seeks to consort with the son of a sworn rival. Where is the justice in this?"

Nunew resisted the urge to roll his eyes, instead smiling mockingly to himself. So the performance begins...

Then his gaze lifted to meet his father's. The King's expression was unreadable, stern, unmoving but Nunew knew where the true battle lay. It wasn't merely the nobles he had to convince; it was the King himself, whose pride still bristled at the very thought of an alliance with the Western Kingdom.

Nunew rose, slow and poised, cutting through the voices like a blade.
"While I acknowledge your Lordships' concern," he began with a calm but deliberate tone, "I assure you that our intentions are sincere. Moreover, this courtship presents a rare opportunity, one that may very well lay the foundation for peace between our kingdoms."

Murmurs rippled across the chamber. Some nobles exchanged contemplative glances, while others remained rooted in disapproval.

"And how," came the gruff voice of Duke Evaris, patriarch of House Evaris, "are we to believe that the Grand Duke's intentions are honorable? How can we be certain this is not a carefully veiled political maneuver?"

"Indeed," Renald added, tone sharp. "Your Royal Highness claims to have chosen him over me for the sake of trust. But what trust can be drawn from the enemy's son?"

Unbothered, Nunew reached into the inner fold of his ceremonial coat and drew out a gleaming pendant, holding it up for all to see. Its intricate gold filigree and crest of the Western Kingdom caught the light like fire.

"This pendant," he said clearly, 

A hush fell over the council.

"And what is so special about it?" Renald sneered, attempting to dismiss the gesture.
Before Nunew could respond, a new voice rang from the left of the hall.

"Perhaps Duke Renald is simply unaware of the customs beyond the borders, but that is a family heirloom." said a composed, assertive man stepping forward.

All heads turned. Nunew squinted slightly. The man's face was familiar, though the name escaped him for a moment.

"Baron Paytai Serin of the Southern Kingdom," announced the royal scribe.

Nunew's eyes widened slightly in recognition. Of course, Paytai Serin. In his past life, they had never been allies, nor enemies. Merely distant acquaintances, his kingdom rarely interfered in Eastern politics. Yet now, here he stood, cutting through the tension with calm clarity.

"Baron Paytai," Renald snapped indignantly, "Mind your place. You're speaking to a duke."

Paytai merely inclined his head with a quiet smile. "Forgive my boldness, Duke Renald, but I arrived here bearing a message from my lord. However, as this discussion continued without resolution, I could not ignore such ignorance."

"Baron Paytai  is right," Nunew interjected. "This is Grand Duke Zee's family heirloom. This heirloom is not merely symbolic, a family heirloom passed down through generations. In the Western Kingdom, to bear this is to command the protection and allegiance of their people. It is not gifted lightly. . A pledge of protection. It ensures not only my safety but a gesture of good faith between our two kingdoms."

The room fell into contemplative silence. The pendant glittered softly in Nunew's hand, its presence louder than any argument.

Nunew looked across the sea of nobles, his voice steady and resolute:
"I did not choose this path lightly. But I chose it wisely. And if peace can be secured through strength and sincerity, then I will walk that path without regret."

"It is still not enough, Your Majesty. Who is to say that Grand Duke Zee will honor this heirloom? What guarantee do we have that he will not simply betray us the moment it suits him?"

The voice of the Evaris patriarch echoed through the hall, sharp and insistent. Several nobles immediately murmured their agreement, their voices rising one after another, fueling the chaos within the noble court. The hall began to buzz with heated opposition, growing louder with each protest.

Yet the King remained silent, seated on his throne with an unreadable expression. Not a single word had passed his lips. Nunew shifted his gaze toward his father, wondering What is he thinking? Why isn't he saying anything? A sense of unease coiled within him.

Then, unexpectedly, a calm but cutting voice sliced through the cacophony.

"Apologies, Duke Evaris, but I do not make a habit of betraying people I care about like Duke Renald."

The room froze. All eyes turned, and so did Nunew, so fast, he nearly strained his neck. His wide eyes landed on Grand Duke Zee, who now stood boldly at the center of attention.

Renald surged forward, rage contorting his face.
"You dare insult me, Grand Duke?" he growled.

But Zee didn't even spare him a glance. He continued his stride forward, undeterred, addressing the King directly with steady confidence.

"Your Majesty, the heirloom I entrusted to His Highness does not come alone. It bears with it the legal entitlement to half of my personal assets."

Gasps erupted like thunder across the chamber.

Nunew's eyes widened in sheer disbelief as he turned to face Zee. Half of his assets? His heart stammered. Why would anyone hand that over so easily? Has he gone mad?

The nobles began whispering frantically.

"Half of his entire estate? Is he out of his mind?"
"Surely not. That's beyond symbolic. It's political suicide."

Even the previously vocal House of Evaris fell into stunned silence.

Yet the King, ever still, remained composed and quiet. His gaze flickered between his son and the Grand Duke, deep in unreadable contemplation.

Then, just when the tension might have ebbed, Zee struck again, this time with words so bold they silenced the very breath in the room.

"And if that is still not enough..." he said with a calm, unwavering voice, "Then perhaps... a marriage would suffice. I will take His Highness as my spouse."

A wave of gasps swept through the court like a sudden gust of wind. Nunew nearly choked on thin air.

"What?!" he blurted aloud before he could compose himself. He quickly stepped down from his platform and marched up to Zee, grabbing his arm and pulling him close, lowering his voice to a whisper.
"Duke Zee, are you serious right now?"

Zee leaned slightly down, meeting Nunew's frantic eyes with an utterly unbothered expression.
"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" he replied plainly, as if his proposal was no more significant than offering tea.

Nunew's lips parted to say something, anything, but no words came out.

Then, the silence was broken by the one voice that had remained absent until now: the King.

"That will not be necessary," he declared at last, his voice carrying over the crowd like a gavel strike.
"We are... grateful for your proposal and the gravity of your offerings, Grand Duke."

Zee straightened and gave a respectful nod, but before the moment passed, he added, "Still, Your Majesty, I must insist. I do not take courtship lightly. If I am to pursue His Highness, I do so with the intention of protection and permanence."

At that, the King's eyes narrowed slightly not with fury, but in contemplation. He suddenly noticed something subtle: the way Zee had addressed Nunew.

"His Highness." Not "His Royal Highness." A quiet liberty. A closeness.

It did not go unnoticed.

The hall remained hushed, the air charged with something unspoken.

Nunew, still gripping Zee's sleeve, released a slow, steady breath, his heart pounding. Whether from the chaos, the audacity of Zee's offer, or the strange flutter it left in his chest, he wasn't sure.

But one thing was certain: this courtship had just shaken the entire political sphere of the kingdom.

Chapter Text

"Have you completely lost your mind, Your Grace?!" Nunew asked, exasperation clear in his voice as he stared at Zee across the garden courtyard. The soft hum of birds and rustling leaves was a sharp contrast to the storm brewing within him.

Zee, ever composed, simply placed a hand to his chest in mock offense.
"I'm wounded, Your Highness. Truly. Such harsh words," he replied with playful melodrama, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Nunew stared at him, thoroughly bewildered. He's joking? Now?
"You must have gone mad. That has to be the explanation," he muttered under his breath, rubbing his temples.

"I assure you, I haven't," Zee replied, dropping the humor and meeting his gaze with a sudden seriousness that momentarily silenced Nunew's flustered thoughts.

Nunew leaned forward, his tone rising again.
"Then explain to me, what on earth was that outrageous move in the noble court? Marriage?!"

Zee raised a brow, nonchalantly glancing between Nunew, Chakri, and finally Evan, his aide, who stood nearby, as loyal and stiff-backed as ever.

"Was it really so shocking?" he asked, clearly amused by their reactions.

"Whatever you do is right, my lord," Evan chimed in dutifully.

Nunew blinked at him. Then at Zee.
The dumb and dumber duo, he thought, dragging a hand down his face. "Unbelievable."

Trying to refocus, he leaned in again.
"Forget that. What about the part where you handed over half of your personal assets with the heirloom? No one told me anything about that."

Zee took a sip from the delicate porcelain teacup Nunew had offered him earlier, his posture utterly relaxed.

"I told Evan not to mention that detail," he answered simply, placing the cup back on its saucer with a soft clink.

Nunew's voice rose in pitch again, both disbelief and frustration bubbling up.
"And why would you do that?!"

Zee turned toward him, blinking slowly, almost as if he were the one confused.
"Because you never asked."

Nunew leaned back in his chair with a sigh, trying to keep his composure intact. His thoughts were racing. None of this made sense, why was Zee so calm about everything?

Zee observed him for a moment, then asked gently,
"Are you angry?"

Nunew paused. Then, with a slow shake of his head, replied quietly with anger poorly covered by a thin smile,
"No... just concerned. Maybe you need your head examined."

Zee chuckled, rising from his seat with elegant ease.
"I assure you, Your Highness, my head is perfectly intact. And I don't regret a thing."

Nunew looked at him, both touched and infuriated by his audacity.
"You can't keep doing insane things and brushing them off with tea and charm."

Zee turned back slightly, his expression unreadable now.
"Why not? It's working rather well so far."

Nunew opened his mouth, then closed it again. He had no counter.

"I'll take my leave now, Your Highness," Zee said, bowing slightly. He turned and began walking toward the garden path.

Nunew stood quickly.
"Wait. Are you really all right? You should at least get your head checked. I mean it."

Zee glanced over his shoulder, eyes warm and lips curled into a knowing smile.

"Thank you for your concern, but no need, I've never been more certain in my life."

With that, the Grand Duke disappeared behind the greenery, leaving Nunew standing alone with the rabbit still in his lap and a heart racing faster than he cared to admit.

"Your Highness, your face is red," Chakri observed cautiously once Duke Zee had taken his leave.

Startled, Nunew instinctively raised his hands to his cheeks, realizing with embarrassment that they were indeed warm to the touch.
"I-Is it that obvious?" he muttered.

"Are you feeling unwell, Your Highness?" Chakri asked with genuine concern, stepping a little closer.

"N-no, I'm fine," Nunew said quickly, regaining his composure and waving a hand as if to dismiss the subject. "Truly, I'm fine."
Desperate to steer the conversation away from his own flustered state, he cleared his throat and changed the topic.

"What about the matter I asked you to look into?" he inquired, his voice returning to its usual composed tone.

Chakri immediately straightened.
"Yes, Your Highness. Baron Paytai Serin of the Southern Kingdom is currently within the palace grounds. He is here to revisit the terms of the resource agreement specifically the iron and steel trade pact established years ago."

Nunew nodded thoughtfully.
"The iron-steel agreement. I recall it. Is there an issue?"

Chakri hesitated before replying.
"Your Highness, there has been a noticeable decline in iron production from our side over the past few years. The Southern Kingdom appears concerned, and negotiations may be strained if we cannot provide satisfactory explanations."

A crease formed on Nunew's brow as he fell into thought.
"Do we know the cause of the decline?"

"I regret to say I am not certain, Your Highness," Chakri admitted. "There could be a number of factors mismanagement, labor issues, or resource depletion but a full investigation would be needed."

Nunew's gaze sharpened.
"This needs to be addressed before tensions grow. Arrange a formal meeting with Baron Paytai. I want to hear their concerns directly and ensure he knows we're not neglecting this alliance."

"At once, Your Highness," Chakri replied with a bow before turning to carry out the instruction.

As the attendant left, Nunew leaned back slightly in his chair, the lingering warmth in his cheeks now replaced by the weight of diplomacy and the storm brewing beneath layers of unresolved resource politics.

Not long after, Baron Paytai Serin was escorted to the meeting chamber where Crown Prince Nunew awaited. The doors were opened with ceremonial grace, and the baron stepped in with composed dignity.

"Greetings, Your Royal Highness," Baron Paytai said with a respectful bow.

"Welcome, Baron Paytai Serin," Nunew replied, offering a polite smile. "I hope my sudden request for an audience did not cause any inconvenience."

"Not in the least, Your Highness," the baron assured. "It is always an honor to be summoned by the Eastern Crown Prince."

"Please, do take a seat," Nunew gestured gracefully to the sofa opposite him.

Once both were comfortably seated, Nunew folded his hands atop his lap and spoke with quiet authority.
"I believe Baron Paytai is already aware of the matter that prompted this meeting. It concerns the longstanding resource agreement between our two kingdoms. May I ask what specific complications have arisen?"

The baron inclined his head before responding, his voice even and formal.
"Yes, Your Highness. As stated in our agreement, the Eastern Kingdom is to supply iron in fixed quantities each year. However, for the past few cycles, the volume delivered has been significantly below the agreed threshold. After deliberation, the Southern Kingdom under Crown Prince Devaran's guidance has determined that if the shortfall continues unresolved, the agreement will be rendered void."

He paused for a moment before continuing.
"I was tasked with conveying this concern to Your Highness and to express Prince Devaran's hope that the matter might be addressed with due urgency."

Nunew's gaze sharpened slightly, though he remained calm. The mention of Crown Prince Devaran caught his attention more than the message itself. In his previous life, he recalled this same issue emerging but no formal word had reached the palace, and the agreement had been quietly annulled. The Southern Kingdom severed ties soon after, and Prince Devaran had played no known role.

'This isn't how it unfolded last time...' Nunew thought, his expression betraying no hint of confusion. Something had clearly changed.

"I appreciate your reminder, Baron Paytai," he finally said, his tone sincere. "And I am grateful for Crown Prince Devaran's initiative in bringing this issue to my attention. Please convey to His Highness my personal thanks. I will see to it that the matter is investigated promptly and addressed with the seriousness it deserves."

Baron Paytai gave a firm nod.
"That is reassuring to hear, Your Highness. The Southern Kingdom remains hopeful that our diplomatic and economic ties will not only endure but grow stronger."

"That is my wish as well," Nunew replied. "Let us work toward that future together."

The two exchanged polite bows again, the atmosphere formal but respectful. As the meeting concluded, Nunew sat in silence for a moment longer, his mind already turning over the threads of a timeline he no longer fully recognized.

If Nunew recalled correctly, the root of the issue behind the iron production shortfall was a shortage of water, a seemingly minor problem that had led to a ripple of consequences over the years.

"Chakri," he called, setting aside the correspondence on his desk, "make arrangements for me to personally visit the region where the iron is being produced. I need to see the situation for myself."

Chakri, ever dutiful and perceptive, hesitated for a moment before stepping forward.
"Your Highness, with all due respect, such a journey may not be advisable at this time."

Nunew looked up, brows slightly furrowed. "And why is that?"

"Grand Duke Zee is to depart for the Western Kingdom in the coming days," Chakri reminded gently. "If you are not present to formally see him off, it will undoubtedly raise questions. The court, the nobles perhaps even foreign dignitaries may misinterpret your absence. In this situation of heightened attention and political tension, unfounded rumors could spread like wildfire."

Nunew exhaled slowly, understanding the wisdom in Chakri's words. As much as he wanted to address the iron crisis immediately, leaving now could damage the fragile public perception surrounding his alliance with Zee.

"You're right," Nunew said after a thoughtful pause, glancing toward the window where the sun was beginning to rise higher in the sky. "We've only just begun to shift the narrative in our favor. I can't afford to give the court or our rivals any ammunition."

He leaned back in his chair, his tone more resolute.
"Very well. I will delay the visit. For now, make the necessary preparations for the Grand Duke's formal send-off. Once that is done, I'll depart for the mines without further delay."

Chakri bowed with relief and understanding. "As you command, Your Highness."

Nunew nodded, already thinking several steps ahead.