Cherion stared blankly into his porcelain teacup, slowly swirling the light amber liquid around while seriously wondering why it suddenly tasted exactly like warm water.

Which was impressive, honestly.

The tea was ridiculously expensive. This tea had traveled across three national borders, survived a grueling sea voyage, and was supposedly famous for its rich floral aroma and smooth finish.

Right now, though?

Absolutely nothing.

Certainly not because she is sitting directly across from me, he told himself firmly, taking another forced sip. Nope. Definitely not.

Across the polished table of the drawing room, Iryna was the absolute picture of royal perfection. Bathed in the soft morning sunlight streaming through the tall glass windows, she held her teacup with an elegant, effortless grace, her spine so perfectly straight it looked physically painful, and her expression entirely serene. If one didn’t know any better, they would think she actually belonged here, casually invading private property and turning a peaceful morning into a high-stakes psychological thriller.

Cherion cleared his throat and gently set his now emotionally compromised tea down with a soft clink. He forced a polite, hospitable smile onto his face, though his internal organs were practically vibrating with anxiety. "Your Highness... is there perhaps something I can help you with this morning? Your arrival was quite... unexpected."

Iryna paused, lowering her teacup with absolute, agonizing slowness. She tilted her chin up, a remarkably smooth, innocent smile spreading across her lips. "What do you mean, Cherion? Didn’t you explicitly tell me yesterday that I needed to visit the estate again soon? So, I did."

Cherion’s smile twitched violently. He bit the inside of his cheek, desperately screaming at his own past self in his mind. Yes, I DID say that. Out of sheer, desperate diplomatic politeness and prevent the situation from spiraling into another political disaster. You know. War. Casual little concern. But I didn’t mean this fast! It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours yet! Zarius’s carriage literally just cleared the front gates!

Of course, Cherion kept that frantic internal screaming strictly locked behind his teeth. He just maintained his strained, wildly sweating smile, praying his face wouldn’t freeze that way permanently.

"A visit usually requires a formal notification, Your Highness. Though Though I’m starting to believe the Solaric considers surprise arrivals a standard protocol at this point."

The sharp voice that cut through the air afterward practically dripped poison. Cherion blinked, looking slightly to his left.

Oh, right. Marielle is sitting right here next to me.

He’d been so overwhelmed by Iryna’s chaotic presence that he’d completely forgotten the fierce protector was glued to his side. Marielle was leaning back in her seat, her arms tightly crossed over her chest and a downright lethal glare fixed entirely on their guest. And she wasn’t the only standby defense, out of the corner of his eye, Cherion could see Reiner and Ezek standing stiffly near the door, both pretending to inspect the walls while secretly watching the table like hawks ready to dive.

Iryna didn’t even blink at Marielle’s tone. Instead, her eyes lit up with the kind of competitive sparkle Cherion had learned to fear. She daintily wiped the corner of her mouth with a silk napkin. "An ambush?" Iryna repeated lightly, dabbing delicately at the corner of her mouth with a silk napkin. "Lady Marielle, you have such a wonderfully dramatic imagination. If I truly intended to ambush this estate, you wouldn’t find me sitting here in the morning. I would have waited until the dead of night, gently pressed my palm against your chest, and watched the frost slowly bloom across your skin until your heart stopped beating while you were having a pleasant dream, and left you as a beautiful ice sculpture for the servants to find."

Cherion could feel a violent migraine forming right behind his eyes. His expression morphed into a tragic blend of absolute terror and sheer exhaustion. Did I unknowingly welcome a serial killer?

Marielle’s eyes narrowed into dangerous slits as she absorbed the vivid threat. "My, my. That is incredibly vivid and clearly well-planned. But you’re forgetting one very important detail, Your Highness, northern blood doesn’t freeze that easily. By the time you even attempted that little bedtime story, my daggers would already be redecorating your throat. Let’s see how well you use your ice magic when you’re choking on your own blood."

"Is that a challenge?" Iryna’s smile turned remarkably sharp, her fingers curling slightly as a faint, icy mist began to lazily roll off the edges of her teacup. "Because I would hate to disappoint a host who is so eager for a demonstration."

"Please, stop!" Cherion suddenly blurted out, clapping his hands together loudly to interrupt them.

Both women froze, blinking in surprise as they turned their attention to the utterly exhausted boy. Cherion looked between Marielle’s lethal glare and Iryna’s freezing teacup, letting out a heavy, deeply pathetic sigh. He gestured vaguely toward the completely torn-up bushes and shattered stone pathways out there.

"The landscapers haven’t even arrived to give us a renovation quote for the gardens you two destroyed yesterday," Cherion pleaded, his voice cracking just a little bit from the sheer stress. "Please, I beg of you, do not add the drawing room to the bill. We haven’t even started fixing the first mess. Please just don’t destroy anything else."

Cherion seized his teacup and threw his head back, gulping down the ridiculously expensive foreign floral blend as if it were a double shot of the strongest, cheapest whiskey available on the black market. He closed his eyes, desperately trying to manifest the burning sensation of pure alcohol to numb the impending doom radiating off the two women. Sadly, it just tasted like very warm, very stressful lavender, leaving him entirely sober.

The desperate, practical nature of his plea seemed to take the wind right out of their sails. Marielle let out a low, irritated huff but dropped her hands away from her weapons. Iryna blinked, the frosty mist around her cup instantly evaporating back into the air. A heavy, profoundly awkward silence fell over the table, leaving only the quiet chirping of the distant birds to fill the void.

Iryna broke the silence first, elegantly leaning back against her cushions. She sighed softly, letting a dramatic, highly exaggerated pout cross her beautiful features. "Honestly, I do not understand why Lady Marielle seems to hate my presence here so intensely. Cherion is happy to see me today. Right, Cherion?"

Cherion immediately choked on his tea. He coughed into his fist so hard his eyes watered while his face turned bright pink. He forced a strained, sweating smile onto his face, desperately trying to keep his composure.

Do I look like a man experiencing joy right now?

"I am... always honored by the royal family’s attention," Cherion managed to squeak out politely, completely dodging the trap. To quickly shift the dangerous topic, he cleared his throat and looked toward the grand entrance of the estate. "Though, if I may ask, Your Highness... where exactly is Prince Gillian today? I noticed he wasn’t with you."

Iryna’s eyes widened slightly before a teasing, highly mischievous smirk crawled onto her lips. She leaned forward, resting her chin in her palm as she looked at him. "Oh? My, my, Cherion. Did you genuinely miss my brother that much? Should I send a courier to fetch him for you?"

Cherion felt a vein twitch in his temple. "I have absolutely no idea how you managed to jump to that specific conclusion, Your Highness. I only ask because the two of you usually look like a packaged deal that is always glued together."

"Well, if you must know, he is currently locked away," Iryna said smoothly, rolling her eyes with an entirely aloof expression. "There is an official, dreadfully boring meeting regarding the treaty definitions at the Palace today. My brother, and your Duke are currently trapped in a room arguing over the treaty. It’s not like they ever had a role or any actual work for me to do in a room filled with stuffy old lords reading endless clauses anyway, so I decided to leave them to their misery and come here."

Marielle let out a sudden, incredibly distinct fake cough into her hand, her voice barely muffled as she muttered, "Lonely." 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

Iryna’s head snapped toward her, her eyes flashing with dangerous, absolute murder.

Before the princess could unleash a blizzard, Cherion quickly intervened again, waving his hands frantically. "Of course! Of course, Your Highness! You are always welcome to stay and talk with us. It’s much better than being trapped in a boring political meeting."

And I also want to know how deep that Philia has already poisoned your brain.

Iryna held Marielle’s glare for a few more seconds before she suddenly let out a soft, melodic laugh, completely brushing the tension away. She set her teacup down completely, her eyes locking onto Cherion with a sudden, intensely bright spark of absolute mischief.

"Though, now that I think about it..." Iryna murmured, her voice dripping with an entirely new, dangerous kind of excitement. She tilted her head, a wide, remarkably sharp smile spreading across her face. "Sitting here drinking tea is a bit of a waste, isn’t it? I think there is something far more entertaining that all of us can do to pass the time today."

Cherion’s heart dropped into his stomach. Beside him, Marielle’s posture went entirely rigid, her eyes narrowing as a heavy, tense silence gripped the drawing room once more.

The two of them exchanged a long, deeply troubled look, the kind shared by people who could already feel a problem sprinting toward them at full speed.