The next morning did not feel like morning. It felt like something waiting to happen. Drexo's eyes opened before the light fully touched the walls. He didn't stretch. Didn't yawn. For a moment, he simply stared at the ceiling, his chest rising slowly, like even breathing needed effort.
He hadn't slept. Not really. Every time he closed his eyes, Maria was there. Her voice. Her touch. The way she had looked at him right before everything broke apart.
And then, the way she looked at him after. That part stayed longer. He sat up. No hesitation this time. Whatever this was, it needed to end. Or begin. He wasn't sure which yet.
He dressed quickly, his fingers moving with purpose, even if his mind wasn't entirely steady. The robe settled over his shoulders, heavy, almost like it knew where he was going.
The corridors were quiet. Too quiet..Servants moved at a distance, whispering, preparing for the engagement ceremony that would soon consume the palace. No one stopped him. No one questioned him.
The guards outside the King's chambers noticed him immediately. They bowed. Not deeply. Just enough.
Drexo didn't acknowledge them. He walked straight to the door and stopped.
For a brief second, he hesitated. Then he knocked softly at first.
Therr was no response. His jaw tightened slightly. He knocked again, firmer this time.
"Who is there?" The King's voice came through the door, loud, steady, already impatient. "Drexo, Your Grace."
Silence followed. Not long. But long enough. "Come in."
Drexo pushed the door open and stepped inside. The air in the room was thick. Warm. Heavy with something unspoken. A woman on the bed gasped softly and scrambled, dragging the sheets up to cover her body. Her movements were hurried, clumsy with panic.
Drexo glanced at her once. That was enough. He looked away. He didn't need to ask who she was. Or how she got there.
He already knew. The King must have forced her out of her husband's house just to sleep with her.
The King leaned back slightly, unbothered, his expression somewhere between annoyance and curiosity. "What is it that could not wait until I wake up?"
Drexo stepped forward, stopping just short of the bed. "I am sorry, Your Grace," he said, his voice controlled. "But this cannot wait."
The King studied him now, more carefully. "Today is your engagement," he said. "Everything should be focused on that."
Drexo's fingers curled slightly at his sides. "That is why I am here." Something shifted in the King's expression.
Interest.
He leaned forward a little. "What is it?" Drexo felt it then. That tightness in his chest. That moment where words become heavier than they should be. He hesitated. Just for a second. Then he said it. "I do not want to go on with this engagement."
The room went still. Completely still. Even the woman on the bed stopped moving. The King didn't react immediately. He turned his head slowly toward the woman instead. "Leave us."
She didn't wait. She gathered what she could, slipping out of the bed, keeping the sheets wrapped tightly around herself as she hurried toward the door. She didn't look at Drexo. Not once.
The door closed behind her. Now it was just the two of them. The King turned back. Slowly. "What did you just say?"
Drexo didn't look away. "I do not want to go on with the engagement," he repeated. "I want it cancelled."
The King's eyes narrowed slightly. "Why?".A simple question. But it pressed. Drexo swallowed once. "Because I do not love Friya," he said. "I will not bind myself to a woman I do not love."
For a moment, it seemed like the words didn't land. Then, the King laughed.
Not softly. Not kindly. A sharp, amused sound that filled the room. "I understand," he said, waving a hand dismissively. "You are frightened."
Drexo shook his head immediately. "No, father. I am serious." The laughter stopped. Just like that. The change was instant. The King's face lost its color, his eyes hardening, the amusement gone as if it had never existed.
"Do you think this marriage is about you?" he asked quietly. The silence that followed that question felt heavier than the laughter before it.
"Or about Friya?"
He leaned forward now, his gaze locking onto Drexo. "I do not care about either of you." Each word landed clean, and precise.
"This marriage is for me," he continued. "For my alliance with the Kenwool."
Drexo's jaw tightened. His hands curled into fists. "I will not be used as a political tool," he said, his voice lower now, but firmer. "Not by you. Not by anyone."
Something dangerous flickered in the King's eyes. "I want to marry for love." The words had barely left his mouth when the King moved.
Fast.
The sound of the slap echoed sharply in the room. Drexo's head snapped slightly to the side, his teeth clenching instantly, his body stiffening as the impact settled in. He didn't fall. He didn't step back. He stayed where he was. His lips pressed together.
"Kill me if you want," he said quietly, turning his head back, meeting the King's eyes again. "But I will not marry her."
For a brief moment, it looked like the King might actually consider it. Then, his expression changed.
Not softer, but worse, and calmer. "You can do whatever you want," he said, a faint smile forming on his lips.
Drexo's brows furrowed slightly. That tone, it wasn't an agreement. It was something else
.
"However," the King continued, almost casually, "you should remember something."
Drexo didn't speak.
"Your aunt, Havana," the King said, watching him closely, "is still alive."
The words landed slowly.nToo slowly. "Because you begged for her life."
Drexo felt it then. That shift in his chest. That sudden tightening. "If you fail to return that favor," the King added, his smile lingering, "I may have to revisit her treason."
Drexo's heartbeat spiked. Loud, and violent. His fingers twitched at his sides. "You forgave her," he said, his voice strained now. "Why bring it up again?"
The King nodded slightly. "I did," he said. "For you."
Then he paused.
"But now," his eyes darkened. "If you refuse me, I will take that favor back."
The room felt smaller, and colder. Drexo's throat went dry. He knew this tone. He had heard it before..This wasn't a threat. It was a promise. "So," the King said, leaning back slightly, as if discussing something trivial, "what will it be?"
He paused again.
"Will you proceed with the engagement?" His gaze sharpened. "Or should I ride my dragon to Cliffland and burn it to the ground?"
Drexo's chest rose sharply. Images flashed in his mind. His aunt. Her home. Fire. Screams.
He clenched his fists harder, his nails biting into his palms. "Do not touch them," he said quickly. "Do not touch my aunt or her family."
The King didn't respond. He just waited. Drexo's shoulders dropped slightly. Not in defeat. But in understanding. There was no path around this. Only through it. "I will proceed with the engagement."
The words felt heavy. Like something breaking as they left his mouth. The King smiled. This time, it reached his eyes. "Good choice."
Drexo didn't respond. He turned. And walked to the door. His steps were steady, even if everything inside him wasn't.
He opened it, stepped out, and shut it behind him. The sound echoed softly in the corridor.
But inside him, nothing was quiet.