"You have got to be fucking joking."

’Ah. I knew it.’

Lucius didn’t even look surprised. Instead, he closed his eyes with the solemn acceptance of a man preparing himself for divine punishment as the entire office trembled around him.

"Tell me you are playing a trick, Lucius."

Heinz’s voice was deceptively calm—too calm.

Lucius swallowed. "U-Unfortunately, Your Majesty... his highness said he was serious. And that..." He paused, inhaling deeply as if preparing for a death sentence.

"...if you have any qualms and try to go to him, he will return to Floramatria instead of traveling with Duke Elara tomorrow."

The room did not simply shake this time.

A boom erupted from the other side of the study—loud enough to rattle the chandeliers, loud enough for fractures to spider across the marble floor.

"...Why is he being so difficult!" Heinz exploded, fingers digging into his hair as he paced like a caged dragon. "I understand he wants to punish me, but with that—"

He didn’t even finish his sentence.He just stood there, seething, trembling, breathing like he wanted to set the whole palace on fire.

And then the large window behind his desk shattered, glass raining down like glittering snow.

Lucius didn’t flinch.

’I just wanted to start working again... but of course I walk straight into whatever... this is...’

He truly shouldn’t be surprised.

After everything that happened—Florian and Heinz practically living together, the clear intimacy between them they both pretended wasn’t obvious, the ball, the incident—things had soured spectacularly.

And somehow, Florian now had the king of Concordia on a leash so short it was strangling.

The infamous tyrant... powerless.

It should have been terrifying.

Yet Lucius found himself something closer to impressed.

Amused, even.

One of the things Lucius had liked about Florian in the beginning was how Florian made him feel strong.

Made him feel reliable. In control. Someone who could protect another man—someone softer, smaller, someone who made Lucius understand why men were drawn to delicate partners.

But then Florian changed.

He gained fire.

From a weepy, overdramatic prince who yearned for the king’s attention to the one who draws attention just by walking in a room.

He argued back.

He didn’t care about titles.

He said whatever he believed was right, no matter who stood in front of him.

And Lucius realized—he liked that too.

He liked the challenge. The unexpectedness. The chaos that followed Florian like perfume.

To think that stubborn spark—a spark that ignited everyone Florian touched—had now even ensnared the stone-cold, tyrannical king...

Lucius exhaled slowly.

It was almost funny.

Lucius was glad—deeply glad—he didn’t have to deal with that right now.

Yes, it hurt that Florian didn’t return his feelings. Yes, it stung that Florian had chosen another path entirely.

But being in Heinz’s position?

Absolutely not.

He didn’t even want to be in Heinz’s line of sight at the moment.

"Summon him. Bring him here."

Lucius looked up sharply.

Heinz sat behind his desk, long fingers pressed against his forehead, eyes shadowed, breath heavy. He looked like a man holding back a storm with sheer will alone.

"Bring him...? You mean Prince Florian, Your Majesty?" Lucius asked carefully.

"No."

Heinz’s jaw tensed.

"Bring Hendrix here."

Lucius froze.

His breath caught.

Then—

’Shit.’

Heinz had avoided Hendrix for nearly his entire life.

Not out of dislike. Not out of indifference.

Out of something much deeper, older, and far more complicated as Hendrix was the former king’s more favored son.

He had never summoned him before.

Not when they were children.

Not when they were young adults navigating their roles.

Not during the entire existence of the harem.

There was no possible world where Heinz voluntarily called for Hendrix.

Not until now.

’Is it that serious?’ Lucius wondered, dread curling in his stomach.

It must be.

Something had pushed Heinz past a threshold Lucius didn’t even know existed.

And then the bigger question finally hit him.

’Why was Florian inviting Hendrix?’

Lucius blinked, trying to recall every interaction he’d ever seen between the two.

He came up empty.

He didn’t even know Florian and Hendrix had spoken privately before. Hendrix hardly ever stayed long in the palace. During the months of the harem, he was practically a ghost, a rumor—he didn’t even appear during the first ball because he had banished himself from Diamond Palace.

Even recently, Lucius had never seen anything that hinted at closeness between them.

Other than Hendrix appearing whenever Athena was around—because she was his cousin—that was it.

So why?

Why would Florian invite Hendrix of all people?

Why now?

Lucius’ chest tightened—violently, unexpectedly.

He hadn’t even thought about it until this moment.Hadn’t connected the threads. Hadn’t allowed himself to.

But now the pieces were arranging themselves whether he liked it or not.

Lucius didn’t want to assume the worst.He didn’t want to believe Florian was capable of cruelty.

Yet—

’Is Prince Florian so furious at His Majesty that he’d use Hendrix—’

"Go, Lucius."

Heinz’s voice cut through his thoughts like a blade.

Low.

Cold.

Dark.

The kind of voice Lucius had only heard once before.

The night Heinz calmly stated he intended to kill his own father.

Lucius shivered.

"I need him in front of me this instant."

Heinz didn’t raise his voice.He didn’t need to.

The air itself seemed to darken around him, shadows tightening like coiled serpents.

Lucius bowed immediately, throat tight.

"Of course, Your Majesty," he said quietly, stepping back with measured calm—though his heart was pounding hard enough to bruise his ribs. "Right away."

He turned, hands cold against his sides.

’Is he planning on killing Prince Hendrix?’

It was shocking that Heinz hadn’t killed Hendrix and Monica along with King Henry years ago.

Everyone expected him to.

Some even waited for it.

So why now?

Why summon Hendrix after a lifetime of avoidance?

Why only after Florian chose him?

Lucius’ breath caught.

’Because of Prince Florian? Is this really... because of Prince Florian?’

Well.

He was about to find out.

✧༺ ⏱︎ ༻✧

"Lucius! What a surprise. To think I’d ever live long enough to see you come to me."

God.

Why was he being tested?

The older brother was a tyrannical psychopath—cold and murderous.

Now the younger brother was smiling at him like a delighted sociopath who had just found a new toy.

’Is it the Obsidian genes?’

Because genuinely, it had to be the Obsidian genes.

Lucius finally located Hendrix lounging in a quiet, dusty corner of the palace—a lounge no one used anymore.

Not since the days when King Henry would sit here with his concubine, Monica.

Hendrix’s mother.

It was a room soaked in old scandals and old ghosts.

And of course Hendrix was here.

"Prince Hendrix," Lucius said, keeping his posture rigid and formal. "His Majesty is summoning you to his office. Please come with me."

Hendrix’s eyes widened for one heartbeat—just one.

Of course they did.

No one alive would ever expect to hear those words.

Least of all the man Heinz had avoided, hated, and refused to acknowledge since childhood.

But then Lucius watched the shock melt off Hendrix’s face—melt and curl into something amused.

Dangerously amused.

"Pfft. Took him long enough," Hendrix said, swinging his legs off the sofa with a lazy, almost elegant kick.

Lucius blinked. "Pardon? Were you... expecting his summon?"

"Yes and no," Hendrix replied breezily. "No, because I thought he’d just appear in front of me and attack me like the dramatic little dragon he is."

Lucius stiffened.

Hendrix continued unfazed.

"And yes, because once he found out my dearest Prince Florian asked me to join him in his little crusade, he’d absolutely have questions. Or demands. Or both."

He snickered—light, airy, unbothered.

"Either way, I’m sure he’s pissed."

There were... a lot of things Lucius had to mentally dissect from that.

A lot of red flags.

But one thing in particular stood out like a siren.

"Pardon," Lucius asked slowly, brows knitting together. "Did you just say... my dearest prince Florian?"

Unfortunately—infuriatingly—Lucius still couldn’t see Hendrix’s emotions the way he could see everyone else’s.

It made Hendrix feel like a void.

A blind spot.

Hendrix rose from the sofa in one fluid motion, a slow, deliberate smirk unfurling across his face.

"Yes. My dearest Prince Florian," he repeated, savoring the words like they were sweet. "Why do you seem surprised?"

"I..." Lucius frowned, his posture stiffening. He did not appreciate the tone. Nor the implication. Nor the arrogance. "Forgive me if this is too direct, but you hardly even know Prince Florian. As his loyal aide—and his friend—I would appreciate it if you refrain from referring to him as yours. Or as though you are close."

Hendrix breathed out a soft laugh.

Not mocking.

Not amused.

Something darker.

He inhaled slowly, and Lucius felt every hair on his arms rise as Hendrix stepped toward him.

Lucius was older.Taller, at least the last time he checked.

But now—

Now Hendrix towered.

His presence stretched.

His shadow seemed larger.

And his eyes—his red eyes—glowed like embers feeding on oxygen.

"Lucius," Hendrix murmured, stopping so close that the temperature around them seemed to drop. "You have no idea how close Florian and I really are."

Lucius’ breath caught.

"There might not be anyone alive besides me who knows him better."

He whispered it.

And the whisper was somehow more terrifying than if he had shouted.

Suddenly, Lucius’ instincts screamed at him—primal, ancient, the kind of alarm that told a man he was standing too close to a predator.

Imminent danger.

’If I breathe wrong, he might kill me.’

"Maybe my older brother pretends he understands Florian," Hendrix continued calmly, almost gently. "But truly, what does he know? Isn’t that why he’s pissed and throwing a tantrum in his office right now?"

Lucius felt the air leave his lungs.

How did Hendrix—

No.

No, he didn’t want to know.

Hendrix brushed past him, but Lucius didn’t move.

Couldn’t move.

A cold sweat slid down his temple as the younger prince stepped behind him.

"And for the record?" Hendrix added, voice low, amused. "I already knew he was summoning me. I simply wanted to give you the chance to satiate your curiosity."

Lucius turned instinctively—too slow.

Hendrix was gone.

Not walked away.

Gone.

Lucius stood rooted, wide-eyed, heart pounding so loudly he could feel it in his fingertips.

’What the... what was that?’

Lucius just got back from recuperating.

But now...

He thinks he might need another week off.