The morning sun spilled through the high windows of the Hartwell palace, casting golden light across the marble floors. Theo stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the cuffs of his suit. The weight of royal gatherings had never settled well with him—too many eyes, too much expectation. But today, it was different. Today, Cass was here.

  By the time he descended to the grand staircase, Edric was already waiting for him, standing tall, exuding effortless royal confidence. They both turned to face the hall below, where the event was already in motion.

  And then Theo saw him.

  Cass stood at the heart of the gathering, dressed in Hartwell's royal colors, the embodiment of his kingdom’s authority. His back was straight, his expression poised, and he spoke with the smooth eloquence of a prince who had been trained for this his entire life. The playful, reckless Cass from last night was gone—this was Prince Cassius now.

  Yet Theo’s lips twitched, the ghost of a smile forming before he could stop it.

  Edric caught it instantly. "Is that a smile you just formed?"

  Theo’s expression hardened immediately. "You’re seeing things, Edric."

  His brother hummed, watching him like a hawk. "No, I’m sure I saw it."

  Theo let out a slow breath, refusing to entertain him. "No, Edric."

  "Yes, it is," Edric pressed, smirking now.

  Theo shot him a glare, but Edric only chuckled, clearly enjoying himself.

  Then, in the same casual tone, Edric shifted the topic. "Oh, by the way, Theo, did you manage to sleep last night?"

  Theo turned to him, narrowing his eyes slightly. "What?"

  "I barely closed my eyes," Edric continued, stretching his neck as if he was still recovering from exhaustion. "I kept hearing thudding, loud banging, voices crying—"

  Theo sucked in a sharp breath, his entire body going rigid.

  Edric turned to him with faux concern. "Do you think there's a ghost in the guest wing? Is that why they put us there?"

  Theo felt heat creep up his neck. "Edric—"

  Edric exhaled dramatically, shaking his head. "Hartwell must really hate us."

  Theo nearly choked. He clenched his jaw, shooting his brother another glare, but Edric was already smirking knowingly, enjoying every second of his torment.

  The Bellemont princes descended the grand staircase, seamlessly joining the sea of royals gathered in the opulent ballroom. Chandeliers dripped with light overhead, the air thick with the hum of conversation, the clinking of crystal glasses, and the subtle weight of diplomacy.

  Theo, ever composed, blended into the crowd with practiced ease, offering polite nods and handshakes where required. He had no interest in small talk, but he moved with the grace of someone who had mastered the art of existing in spaces like these without truly belonging to them.

  His eyes, however, had a destination.

  Cassius.

  Standing among a cluster of dignitaries, Cass looked every bit the prince he was meant to be—poised, unreadable, carrying Hartwell's weight on his shoulders. His laughter was measured, his words precise, his posture regal. He belonged here. And yet—Theo knew him better than that.

  Theo shifted through the crowd, slowly closing the distance between them. He didn’t stop, didn’t break stride, but as he passed by Cass, he murmured under his breath, just for him to hear—

  "I thought your walls were soundproof."

  Cassius' spine straightened immediately. His eyes widened, his carefully controlled expression flickering with confusion.

  Theo didn’t slow down, didn’t even glance at him. He remained engaged with the surrounding royals, nodding at some Duke’s remark, all while continuing as if nothing had been said.

  Cass, still processing, turned his head slightly, his voice just above a whisper. "What—?"

  Theo finally met his eyes. Calm, unreadable. Then, lips barely moving, he added, "Edric heard us."

  Cassius choked.

  It was a real, sharp, unfortunate choke—one that had Lady Kira, the noblewoman beside him, gasping in concern.

  "Your Highness, are you alright?" she asked, her hand hovering near his arm.

  Cassius, trying to recover, cleared his throat with a strained smile. "I—I’m fine."

  Theo, unbothered, had already moved away, leaving Cass to fend for himself.

  Before Cass could even think of retaliation, the murmuring in the room shifted. A presence heavier than all of them combined entered the space.

  King Edward of Ravensford.

  Conversations halted, and a ripple of attention spread through the room as the monarch approached the center of the gathering. The king was a towering figure, his presence commanding, his expression unreadable as he surveyed the assembled royals.

  When he finally spoke, his voice was smooth yet firm, laced with the authority of a ruler who rarely needed to raise it to command attention.

  "Honored guests," he began, his piercing gaze sweeping over the room, "Hartwell is pleased to welcome each and every one of you tonight. Our kingdoms have stood for centuries, bound by diplomacy, tradition, and at times, conflict. But it is gatherings such as these that remind us that we are not just rulers—we are the custodians of our people’s futures."

  A calculated pause.

  "Let tonight be a testament to our commitment to unity, to the future we shape together."

  A polite murmur of approval spread across the room.

  Theo, standing amidst the crowd, felt the weight of the moment—but his focus remained sharp, unwavering. The politics of the night had begun.

  ---

  Theo had survived. Barely.

  The royal gathering had drained him, but there was one last event—the night gala. He had done his part, played his role, worn his masks. And yet, here he was, standing before another spectacle, his royal composure fraying at the edges.

  Dressed in a tailored midnight-black suit with subtle Bellemont embroidery, he looked every bit the prince he was meant to be. But inside, he was already counting the hours until he could escape.

  He had begged Edric to let him sit this one out. Pleaded, even. But Edric had refused with a smug "Think of it as practice, little brother." And then, conveniently, disappeared.

  So here he was. Alone. Fantastic.

  Theo stepped into the grand ballroom, its golden chandeliers casting a soft glow over the opulent space. Laughter and music wove through the air, the scent of expensive cologne and perfume mingling with the crisp bite of champagne.

  He moved with purpose—straight to the nearest waiter, plucking a glass of champagne from the silver tray before retreating to the corner like a man seeking refuge.

  His fingers idly traced the stem of his glass, his gaze subtly scanning the crowd. He wasn’t looking for conversation, wasn’t looking for company.

  But he was looking for someone.

  Cassius.

  His eyes flickered through the sea of gowns and suits, searching. Not that he would admit it.

  And then—

  "Theodore? Is that really you?"

  A voice. Feminine. Familiar.

  Theo turned, his expression shifting from disinterest to genuine surprise.

  "Oh my god. Tya?"

  The woman before him was stunning, dressed in a deep emerald gown that complimented her warm brown skin. Her hair was styled in elegant waves, her eyes bright with recognition.

  "It is you!" she beamed, stepping closer. "I thought I recognized you, but you—you look different."

  Theo let out a short laugh. "Different as in worse or better?"

  She tilted her head, pretending to scrutinize him. "More prince-like," she finally said, grinning. "It’s weird."

  Theo shook his head. "And you look exactly the same. How long has it been?"

  "Too long," she said, linking her arm with his in a way that was effortless, familiar. "God, I have so much to tell you."

  Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

  And just like that, Theo found himself pulled into conversation, the weight of the night momentarily lifting.

  He forgot about the ball, forgot about the expectations, forgot that he was supposed to be enduring rather than enjoying.

  For the first time that night, he actually laughed.

  But somewhere across the room, unseen by him, a pair of sharp eyes had been watching.

  Cassius.

  Standing near the grand piano, his expression unreadable, his fingers curled loosely around his own glass of champagne.

  He had been watching since the moment Theo entered the ballroom. Since the moment she approached him.

  And now—

  Now, Cassius couldn’t look away.

  ---

  Theo genuinely enjoyed catching up with Tya. She was one of the few people from his university days who had known him before the weight of royal duty settled fully on his shoulders. With her, he didn’t have to measure his words or keep up appearances. It was easy, light. A rare relief.

  "So," she leaned in conspiratorially, mischief dancing in her eyes. "Girlfriend? Have you?"

  Theo scoffed. "Me? A girlfriend? Tya, you’ve known me since university. You know I don’t do things like that."

  "Right, right," she smirked, swirling her champagne. "No serious relationships. Just one-time things, huh?"

  "Not even that," Theo admitted. "Between the foundation and everything else, I don’t have the time for hookups, let alone relationships."

  He said it easily, like it was a simple truth. But then—

  Cassius.

  His mind betrayed him, conjuring an image of him. Of sharp eyes and teasing smiles. Of warmth and fleeting touches. And without realizing it—he smiled.

  Tya’s gaze sharpened immediately.

  "Uh-huh," she drawled. "You smiled." She set her glass down. "There must be someone."

  Theo blinked, caught off guard. "No, absolutely not." He shook his head. "I just—"

  But before he could finish, a presence interrupted them.

  A tall, well-dressed man approached, leaning in to whisper something in Tya’s ear. She smiled at whatever he said before turning back to Theo with a spark of excitement in her eyes.

  "Let me introduce you," she said, reaching for the man’s hand. "This is Duke Russell. My fiancé."

  Theo’s brows lifted. "Fiancé?"

  Tya grinned, almost triumphant. "Oh, really? Oh shit," Theo said, laughing. "Never thought you would settle down."

  "Neither did I," Tya admitted.

  Theo turned to Russell, offering his hand. "Congratulations. I’m Theodore."

  Russell shook his hand firmly. "Prince Theodore of Bellemont, actually," Tya corrected with a teasing glare. "Honestly, Theo. Please. You are a Prince. Live by it."

  Theo smirked but said nothing.

  Tya hugged him one last time before linking arms with Russell, and just like that, she was swept back into the ballroom, lost in the sea of royalty and nobility.

  Theo exhaled. The momentary ease he felt was fading.

  The gala. The lights. The people. The expectations.

  It was too much.

  Without another thought, he quietly slipped out of the ballroom, weaving through the corridors of the palace until he found a secluded balcony. The cool night air greeted him like an old friend, crisp against his skin as he leaned on the stone railing, exhaling slowly.

  He hadn’t been there long before—

  "You’re getting predictable, Harrington."

  Theo turned his head, already knowing who it was.

  Cassius.

  As always, finding him.

  Theo expected the usual—some teasing remark, a smirk, something light and insufferable.

  But when he met Cassius' gaze, the air between them felt different.

  Cass wasn’t teasing. He wasn’t smirking.

  There was something else in his expression—something unreadable. Something that made Theo’s grip on the stone railing tighten just slightly.

  Theo studied Cassius, eyes narrowing slightly. Something was off.

  Cassius wasn’t looking at him. His gaze was fixed on the night beyond the balcony, jaw tense, shoulders stiff.

  Theo leaned back against the railing, arms crossing over his chest. Interesting.

  "Is there something that happened inside?" he asked, tone light but probing.

  Silence.

  Theo tilted his head. "Did the King say something to you?"

  Still, nothing.

  Theo clicked his tongue, his curiosity growing. "Hmm." He let the sound drag out, watching for a reaction.

  Nothing.

  Then he sighed, long and dramatic. "Are we going to stay silent for the rest of the night, Cassius?"

  That finally did it.

  Cassius turned his head, fixing Theo with a look that was almost a glare.

  "Looks like you found someone," he muttered.

  Theo blinked. "What?"

  "Someone you’re comfortable laughing with," Cassius said, voice flat.

  Theo frowned, trying to piece it together. "What the hell are you talking about?"

  Cassius rolled his eyes, an actual eye roll, and turned back toward the night, arms resting against the railing.

  That’s when it clicked.

  Theo inhaled sharply, biting back a grin.

  "Oh my god," he whispered, realization settling in. "You’re jealous."

  Cassius scoffed. "I am not."

  "You so are." Theo straightened, turning fully to face him. "Of Tya?" He let out a small, incredulous laugh. "Cassius—"

  "I'm not—" Cassius cut himself off, rubbing his temple as if Theo was giving him a headache. "Forget it."

  Theo couldn't help it—he laughed. A real laugh. One that made his shoulders shake slightly.

  Cassius scowled. "I will push you off this balcony."

  "Admit it," Theo challenged, still laughing. "You’re sulking because I was talking to someone else."

  "I said forget it, Harrington."

  That only made Theo laugh harder.

  Cassius huffed, looking away. His ears—his actual ears—were slightly red.

  And Theo found that… kind of cute.

  No, not kind of. Very.

  Prince Cassius of Ravensford —poised, untouchable, always in control—sulking over him talking to someone else?

  Adorable.

  Theo nudged him with his elbow, grinning. "For the record," he said, voice softer now, "Tya’s engaged. She was introducing me to her fiancé."

  Cassius side-eyed him. "...And?"

  "And," Theo smirked, "you’re still the only one who gets to steal me away on balconies."

  Cassius stayed quiet for a moment.

  Then—barely, barely—his lips twitched upward. Just for a second.

  Theo saw it.

  And damn, if that didn’t make his night.

  Theo’s laugh still lingered in the night air, breathless and light, as he shook his head at Cassius.

  "You make this hard, Cass," he said, amusement still coloring his tone.

  Cassius folded his arms, expression neutral. "I’m not."

  Theo exhaled through his nose, his small smile lingering. He wasn’t sure why he was bothering to explain, but—

  He did.

  He told Cassius who Tya was. How they met. How she was an old university friend, nothing more.

  And halfway through, he realized—he had never done this before.

  Never explained himself to anyone.

  Never felt the need to.

  People assumed. He let them. It never mattered.

  But now, here he was, standing in the cold Ravensford night, justifying himself to Cassius.

  And the strangest part?

  He didn’t mind.

  Cassius listened, his gaze fixed on Theo, sharp and quiet.

  Then, suddenly—he grabbed Theo’s wrist.

  “Cass?”

  Cassius didn’t answer. He pulled Theo along, urgency in his steps, cutting through the empty corridors of the palace.

  Theo’s pulse quickened. He knew where they were going before they even arrived.

  The forbidden wing.

  Theo inhaled slowly, steadying himself.

  “Cass,” he started, voice measured. “Do you know the story of Prince Luciel and Prince Adrien?”

  Cassius blinked at him, his fingers still wrapped around Theo’s wrist.

  “Of course,” he said, tilting his head. “Prince Luciel was killed by Prince Adrien. And then Adrien took his own life. It’s in history, Theodore.”

  Theo studied him for a moment.

  Then he reached into his coat pocket.

  Pulled out the letter.

  Cassius’ gaze dropped to it, curiosity flickering in his eyes.

  Theo’s fingers tightened around the fragile letter before he handed it over.

  Cassius hesitated, then carefully took the worn paper, his gaze scanning the inked words—the private whispers of a love long erased from history.

  A letter from Luciel to Adrien. A letter from Adrien to Luciel.

  Not a story of betrayal. Not a tale of violence. But of devotion. A love that was never meant to be remembered.

  Cassius read in silence, his expression shifting as each sentence sank in.

  Finally, he spoke, his voice quieter than before. "This… this is not what they teach us."

  Theo exhaled softly. “No, it’s not.”

  Cassius’ eyes flickered as he reread the final lines. His fingers traced the faded words, written in desperate, unwavering love.

  ‘If ever we must choose, I will fall first, so I may rest forever in your arms.’

  A vow. A choice. Luciel had meant every word.

  "He let Adrien kill him," Theo murmured, watching Cassius carefully. "So he could be with him forever."

  Cassius' throat bobbed.

  "Then Adrien took his own life," he whispered. "Because he belonged to Luciel. Only Luciel."

  The silence stretched between them, thick with something unspoken.

  Cassius stood there, stunned—as if the cracks in his mind were widening, breaking apart the illusion he had held onto so tightly.

  Theo swallowed, searching his face. “Still think we’re Thisbe and Pyramus?”

  Cassius didn’t answer.

  His fingers curled around the letter. His lips parted as if to say something—then stopped.

  He took a step back.

  “I should go.”

  Theo’s chest tightened.

  "Cass," he called after him.

  Cassius didn’t turn.

  "Thisbe and Pyramus," Theo continued, voice firmer, "they died at the end."

  Cassius hesitated for a fraction of a second.

  Then—he walked away.

  Leaving Theo alone with the ghost of a love story that had never been allowed to survive.

  ---

  Theo wasn’t in his right mind when he returned to the palace.

  The grand halls still buzzed with the fading energy of the gala, chandeliers casting golden light over laughing royals and swirling gowns. But Theo barely saw any of it. His mind was fixed on one thing.

  Or rather, one person.

  He searched. The ballroom—empty of him. The grand hall—no sign. Where the hell was he?

  A palace maid passed by, her arms full of linens.

  Theo exhaled sharply and moved toward her.

  "Hi. Sorry for disturbing you."

  She startled but quickly lowered her head in a polite bow. “Your Highness. May I help you?”

  Theo hesitated, then grabbed the nearest sheet of paper from a side table and held it up, making it look important.

  "Actually, I have some documents that need to be delivered to Cass—" he caught himself, "—Prince Cassius. By hand. It’s urgent."

  The maid stiffened, glancing around as if debating whether she should even be speaking to him about this.

  “I… actually can’t—”

  “Please.” His voice softened. “It’s important.”

  She faltered.

  Then, finally, with a small nod, she motioned for him to follow.

  ---

  Now Theo stood in front of his door.

  He knocked.

  Once. No answer.

  Twice. Still nothing.

  A third time—

  "Just leave anything in front of the door. And tell everyone to stop bothering me."

  Theo stared at the handle.

  Unlocked.

  He turned it.

  The door creaked open, light from the corridor spilling into the dimly lit room.

  Cassius sat on the edge of his bed, head in his hands, looking ready to snap at whoever dared to disturb him—until he saw Theo.

  He blinked, clearly thrown off by his presence.

  “I said I don’t—”

  Theo leaned against the doorframe, a small smirk curling at his lips.

  “You look amusing with the moonlight over you like that.”

  Cassius exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Just leave.”

  Theo ignored him. He stepped forward, closing the door behind him.

  Then, softly—“Hey.”

  Cassius flinched when Theo touched his arm, not in fear, but in a way that said he wasn’t ready for the warmth.

  Theo’s grip was gentle, grounding. “Don’t think too much about Thisbe. Or Adrien. It’s still you, Cassius. The person who annoys me endlessly. Tortures me. The person who leaves me breathless.”

  Cassius swallowed hard, unmoving.

  Theo’s voice dipped lower. “The person who knows exactly how to make me feel good. The person I love to smell first thing in the morning.” His lips twitched. “You are my C, right? You said so.”

  Cassius’ eyes flickered.

  “So it doesn’t matter—Thisbe, Adrien— I still fall for you, Cassius.”

  Something cracked in Cassius' resolve.

  Theo let go of his arm only to cup the side of his face, his thumb brushing against Cassius’ cheek.

  “If anyone out there dares to hurt you, I will do anything to destroy them. I will not let anyone hurt you, sweetheart.”

  Cassius sucked in a sharp breath. The way Theo said that—sweetheart—felt like surrender.

  His hands clenched, but instead of pushing Theo away, he reached for him.

  His forehead pressed against Theo’s. “Even my father?”

  Theo exhaled, considering.

  “Hmm. That’s a bit harder.”

  Cassius huffed out a small, unwilling chuckle.

  Theo lifted his chin, forcing their eyes to meet.

  “I fucking love you, Cassius.”

  Cassius' breath hitched. His eyes gleamed, but Theo wasn’t sure if it was the moonlight—or tears.

  Then, barely above a whisper—“I can’t, Theo.”

  Theo’s stomach twisted. “What do you mean?”

  Cassius squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head. “I’m the King’s heir. I can’t afford this. A prince can’t be gay. A prince needs to be perfect.” He inhaled sharply. “I can’t bring shame to my country.”

  Theo’s jaw clenched. “So you’re saying you don’t want this?”

  Cassius’ voice wavered. “I want this badly, Theodore.” His lips trembled. “But I just can’t be reckless.”

  Theo’s chest ached.

  He slid his hands down Cassius’ arms, intertwining their fingers. “Hey, hey. We can figure this out, okay? Don’t forget—I have a strategist team. A logistics team. I can use them.”

  Cassius let out a soft, broken laugh. “You say that like I don’t have my own.”

  Theo smirked. “Yours is royal. You can’t exactly discuss how to keep our gay relationship hidden with your advisors.”

  Cassius snorted despite himself.

  Theo leaned in, brushing his lips lightly against his temple. “But mine? They’ll help me make this work. Because I love you. And we’re going to figure this out.”

  Cassius didn’t reply.

  But he didn’t pull away either.

  ---

  Theo closes the gap, his breath mingling with Cassius'.

  Then, he kisses him.

  Soft, slow, tender. A deliberate contrast to the weight of everything Cassius had just said. His kiss speaks volumes—you're mine. My one and only.

  Cassius shudders, not from hesitation, but from how much he wants this.

  Theo takes his time, savoring every inch of him, as if trying to commit Cassius to memory—the way he feels beneath his hands, the way his body reacts, the way his breath hitches when Theo presses a little closer.

  Slowly, he guides Cassius to the bed, laying him down like something precious.

  Theo undoes each button of Cassius’ suit with meticulous care, as if unwrapping something sacred.

  Then, in a hushed voice, “Next time, remind me to control myself when you’re in your official uniform.” His fingers trace over Cassius’ now-bare skin. “It’s a lot.”

  The moonlight filters through the window, casting Cassius in a pale glow.

  He looks stunning.

  Theo runs his hands over every inch of him, mapping out the curves and dips of his body, taking his time to make Cassius feel claimed.

  He presses his lips to Cassius’ chest, lower and lower, trailing soft kisses down his torso. Cassius tenses beneath him, anticipation thrumming between them like a live wire.

  Then, Cassius grips Theo’s back, pulling him closer, showing without words how much he wants him.

  Theo smiles against his skin, pleased. He presses a kiss to Cassius’ collarbone, then bites down gently, just enough to leave a mark.

  A memory. Something that says, “You are mine.”

  Cassius’ breath stutters, his fingers tightening in Theo’s hair.

  Theo looks up, meeting his gaze.

  Cassius’ eyes are dark with want, with something rawer than desire—trust.

  Theo leans in again, his lips brushing against Cassius’ ear as he whispers, “I love you, Cassius.”

  Cassius exhales shakily. His grip on Theo tightens.

  Then, he pulls Theo down— wordlessly, desperately—letting him in.

  ---

  Cassius’ fingers dig into Theo’s skin as he leans down, pressing his lips against Theo’s chest. Then, he bites down—just enough.

  Theo exhales sharply, a shiver rolling down his spine.

  When Cassius pulls back, he looks at the mark he left, something dark blooming on Theo’s skin, and a satisfied smirk tugs at his lips. “Mine.” The single word is almost inaudible, but Theo catches it.

  And he lets him have it.

  Because Cassius is his, too.

  Theo moves with careful precision, leading them through every moment, every sensation. He watches Cassius closely, making sure he feels good, following his rhythm, letting him have control where he wants it.

  Every sound Cassius makes is a melody Theo wants to memorize.

  Cassius’ back arches, his body moving with Theo’s in a perfect, unspoken rhythm. He reaches up, fingers gripping at Theo’s arms, his nails biting into his skin.

  Theo wants more.

  “Louder, Your Highness,” Theo whispers against his ear, his voice a command and a plea all at once.

  Cassius shudders. His lips part, and his voice breaks beautifully.

  “Theo—”

  Theo groans at the sound of it, at the way Cassius says his name. Like it belongs to him.

  And maybe it does.

  Everything fades into sensation—a slow unraveling of restraint, of walls, of everything except each other.

  When it’s over, Theo collapses beside him, breathless, blissed out, completely undone.

  Cassius is warm against him, his skin flushed, his fingers tracing absentminded shapes on Theo’s shoulder.

  And then—so softly, as if it’s the easiest truth in the world—he says it.

  “I love you, Theo.”

  Theo exhales, a lazy, satisfied smile playing at his lips.

  He turns his head, looking at Cassius—this beautiful, impossible man who somehow feels like everything he’s ever needed.

  “I know.”

  Theo smirks, teasing as always. But his hand reaches for Cassius’ beneath the sheets, threading their fingers together.

  And for tonight, that’s enough.