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‘The Jewel of Vere’ was a title rarely afforded and only bestowed upon an Omega royal. The Veretian Royal family was known for producing a Dominant Alpha once a generation. King Aleron and Crown Prince Auguste were such examples. The fair Queen Hennike, a Kemptian Omega, delighted the country with the birth of the second prince, Laurent. A shy and bookish boy by all accounts who preferred the company of animals to people, save perhaps his brother. Yet his striking resemblance to the Queen caused speculation on how he would present at puberty. 

Speculation and potential excitement. After all, a royal Omega guaranteed not only heirs but political advantage due to their desirability. The Queen’s arrival in Vere solidified Kempt’s alliance, proving the political value of her secondary gender. 

Her untimely death weakened Vere overnight. Kempt grew suspicious of potential foul play and relations between both countries tensed. Akielos seized the opportunity at this sudden vulnerability and Vere keenly felt the loss of their Queen. War, which had been held at bay for nearly two decades was now a certainty.

The Akielon army pushed north into Delfleur and aimed to take the fort at Marlas. Forced to leave Arles and distrustful of saboteurs, the King brought his sons and brother south alongside his army. 

—

“Father, we have enough supplies to wait them out for at least a month. They cannot gain further ground north without taking Marlas. If we’re patient, we can open peace talks with Theomedes.” Auguste presented his father the supply ledger as he spoke. Every guard in the room looked onto their Crown Prince, not their King, with reverence. 

It was a fact that did not escape the King’s brother. “No. Theomedes has waited too long for us to be vulnerable to allow this chance to slip away. He can burn every village, farm and forest from here to Arles unless we stop them here. They expect us to hide away in our forts. An ambush as they sleep, however, will grant us an advantage and allow us to trim away enough of their numbers for them to call for a ceasefire.”

“Such underhanded tactics will not endear us to Akielos, uncle.” Auguste frowned, “Their forces are more experienced than ours in close combat. We would be showing our entire hand and leave Marlas vulnerable.”

With a scoff, Auguste’s argument was dismissed, “You have much yet to learn, Auguste. You cannot expect our enemies to talk of peace when their blood lust led them to our borders just as we are barely finished mourning our Queen.”

“Enough.” The King did not need to raise his voice to be heard. Instead of siding with either strategy, his steely gaze wandered from the war table to the door. One of Auguste’s personal guards was in low conversation with a small coltish figure looking inside the grand hall of Marlas with doe eyes. 

Immediately, Auguste stepped away from the table to walk over to his 13 year old brother. His tone softened considerably as did his expression, “Laurie, what’s wrong? Did you have a nightmare again?” 

“Gus, I don’t feel well.” Mumbled Laurent sheepishly, embarrassed at having interrupted such an important discussion. 

“Now now, Laurent, you’re old enough to know better than to waltz in here.” The King’s brother chastised gently. Aleron himself remained silent, observing his sons with close attention. 

Auguste ignored his uncle and pressed his palm to Laurent’s forehead, “You’re burning up,” he moved his hand to his brother’s neck and felt a swelling there, omegan scent glands were beginning to form. It was with tightly knitted brows that he looked back to the King.

With a grave nod, Aleron released a long exhale. “We will remain inside the fort and send a herald to Theomedes in the morning for a parlay.” He informed the room and thusly closed the matter for further argument. 

“Brother, you cannot appear weak-“ 

Aleron silenced his brother with a hard stare before dismissing his senior officers and guards from the room. He approached his sons and crouched down to look over an anxious Laurent. The younger prince had never before received such close attention from his father. It was strange enough for Auguste to place a protective hand on Laurent’s shoulder.

“You aren’t ill, Laurent.” The King explained simply as he pushed a strand of golden hair behind Laurent’s ear. “You are presenting. It will not be pleasant for you this coming week but I will have a Beta physician tend to you and I am certain your brother will be loathe to leave your side.”

“Father is right, Laurie. You will also feel safer with a familiar Alpha you trust nearby.” His words were spoken soothingly but Auguste used the opportunity to stare down his uncle.

The stare was met with a tightening of the jaw. 

“I’m an Omega.” It was not a question, Laurent understood now what was happening to him, why his neck and abdomen ached. He also read enough books on their history to know the implications and why his father seemed pleased by this development.

“It is a wonder I did not see it sooner, you look just like your mother.” For the first time since Hennike died, Aleron felt hopeful. 

Laurent’s breath hitched when his father pressed a kiss to the top of his head. It was the first and last time his father showed him such affection.

“Go with Auguste and rest.”

“But father, what about the war?”

“Let me worry about the war, Laurent. If all goes well then by the time you feel better, it will all be over.” 

With a gentle tug, Auguste led Laurent out by the hand. The princes left behind the older generation of brothers to look over a now obsolete war table.

“You knew.”

“I suspected,” Aleron affirmed, “Perhaps even hoped a little. He is ever so much like Hennike, isn’t he?”

“You can’t promise him to Akielos if you wish to regain Kempt’s favour.”

“You’re very eager to carry on with the war, aren’t you little brother?”

The King watched his brother flush with anger, much in the same way he would when they were boys, “Do not fret, you may still get your wish. For now I need you to return to Fortaine and make certain our supply lines remain secure.”

“Surely you can send one of your men to do that. I would be of better use to you here.”

“This is not a request, I will send for you if I require your counsel.” Before his brother could reply and talk him out of it, Aleron dismissed him.

—

Damen heard the whispers before the herald arrived; ‘Vere has a new Jewel’. It set his brother on edge and Kastor had been eager to stain his sword with more Veretian blood. Even Nikandros was unsure of what to make of the request for parlay, it was causing him to pace around the tent.

“It is too soon for a herald to come. Surely they would try some manner of trickery in battle first?”

“Something changed for them, that much is certain.” Damen took a drink of water, having refused wine from his slave in favour of clarity. 

“What could have changed so quickly?”

“Father has his suspicions though I suppose we will know soon enough. For now he has given orders to halt our siege preparations.”

Nikandros chewed on his lip in thought, a habit he formed in his youth when he was restraining himself from giving his unsolicited opinion to his Prince.

“Nik, if you think any louder you will alert the Veretians.”

“This is no time for jests, Damen. Mark my words, Aleron is scheming something. Or more accurately that slippery brother of his is.”

“I’m not so sure. They could have attacked us during the night or holed up inside their walls. Instead, a tent was erected in between our camp and the fort on an open field with no possibility of treachery. The herald informed us that the King himself would be going alone with only a single guard. It would be dishonourable if we did not do the same. My father is speaking with Aleron about ending the war. Whatever factor it was that changed, I think it gave them more to lose.”

Finally Nikandros ceased his pacing and sat across from Damen, even pouring himself a drink of water in the process, “What could be so precious to protect that they might be willing to cut their losses now? We occupy most of Delpha once again.”

Silence filled the tent as Damen considered the question. It was certainly true that they have nearly reached their goal. Theomedes would be satisfied with the conquering of Marlas and find it too troublesome to continue north. Both sides had suffered enough losses by now. However, until this point, every move the Veretians made had been with the intent of regaining lost ground. So why now?

Then it came to him. Reports had told them that the royal family had left Arles and were now all here in Marlas. That would include the youngest prince who was five years younger than Damen himself.

“I understand the rumours now. ‘The Jewel of Vere’ is a title granted to Omegas and did Prince Laurent not accompany his family south?”

Nikandros stared at Damen with wide eyes, “Of course. A newly presented Omega would change everything for them.”

“That also explains my father’s reaction to the herald. He knew we were reclaiming Delpha but with an Omega presenting into the royal family of Vere, it will only be temporary. Now he must consider other options.”

“Marriage, you mean.”

Damen suddenly regretted refusing the wine. “It wouldn’t be right away, Prince Laurent is still only a boy.”

“Boy or not, if Prince Laurent really is an Omega then that means Vere has just gained a powerful new bargaining chip.”

Just like that, Damen was overcome with pity. 

“What is that face for?”

“I feel sorry for him. Imagine going through the pain of a presentation heat, only to find out you are being used as a bargaining chip.”

“Don’t feel too bad for the boy, Damen. You’ll be in the same position if what we suspect is true. Knowing Veretians, they would never settle for Kastor as a suitor.”

“No, they wouldn’t.” Damen agreed with a frown, wondering if Kastor would be offended at being passed over during negotiations. “Speaking of Kastor, I have not seen him since the herald arrived.”

“Nor I.” Admitted Nikandros with a shake of his head, “He’ll cause trouble for your father before the day is done. You will see.”

“You never did trust him, did you?”

“He almost killed you years ago, Damen. I know you do not listen but I worry you are blinded by your affection for him.”

“That was an accident, Nik.”

“Was it? An accident you still bear the scar of on your flesh. Anyone else would have been executed for treason for daring to mark the Exalted’s heir during a spar. I would have intervened without thought were I there!”

Nikandros spoke so fiercely that Damen knew it was a mark of his loyalty towards him and couldn’t help but smile. “I am blessed by the Gods to have you as my friend, Nik.”

All the protective anger evaporated off Nikandros and he sighed, “It is Akielos who is blessed by you, Damen. You have proved yourself during this war as a leader and led your forces with honour. Kastor has lost far more men than you have, you know. He does not care for them as you do. You care for Akielos, your brother cares for himself. Remember that if you ever doubt yourself.”

During such moments, Damen felt older than his years. He was barely a man at 19 and yet the weight of responsibility and duty bore down on him. Sometimes he wondered if Kastor would act differently if he had remained heir when Damen was born. His frustration at being passed over was understandable. Until Damen was born, he had been raised as if he were to inherit the throne. Yet there were times when Kastor acted if he were younger and not ten years older.

“Damianos Exalted, the King summons you to his tent.” A soldier informed him as he stood just outside the tent.

Damen exchanged looks with Nikandros and stood up from his chair, “He’s back then. I suppose it is time to find out what Aleron proposed. Will you wait for me?”

“Of course.” Nikandros replied easily.

—

“We have won, then?” Kastor asked, confused by what Theomedes was telling his sons within the privacy of the King’s war tent.

“In a manner of speaking, we have. Delpha is ours once again. It appears Aleron has more honour than I thought. He will surrender the lands we have conquered if we agree to stop our march north.” The King explained, removing the golden laurels from his head as weariness began to show through his facade of strength.

“Then why stop now? We have them begging for mercy. Father, we could take all of Vere and rule it as one kingdom as it once was.”

“To do so would only make us the barbarians that Vere believes we are. They have fought and lost. It would dishonour us to take more. We have Delpha again, it is enough.”

“Our men long for home.” Damen remarked, agreeing with his father.

“They should long for glory!” Kastor snapped, “We are on the brink of greatness and here we are playing nice with Veretians when we should be conquering them!”

Theomedes stared at his eldest son with a look of such disappointment that it silenced Kastor, “You are drunk. Go to your tent and sleep off the griva before you disgrace yourself further. I wish to speak with my heir alone.”

“He will remember that.” Damen mumbled after Kastor stormed out.

“I hope he does. Kastor needs to learn his place. Now come and sit with me Damen.”

The King reached out to place a hand over Damen’s when they sat adjacent to one another at the table. “I wish to tell you that I am proud of you. Do not think your king is blind to your efforts in battle. Your men have informed me that you saved them more than once from Veretian trickery. They admire you openly and would follow you anywhere. That is why you are my heir. Your brother might also be an Alpha but he does not inspire as you do. You also know your duty.”

“I… yes, father. Is this about the Jewel of Vere?”

“Clever boy. No, you are a man now. I must remember that. You are right, Damen. Aleron’s youngest son is newly presented. I have agreed to a ceasefire until we have met him. It will be a week until then but it is your duty to make a good impression as a suitor. Do you understand?”

“Yes, father. But he is only a boy still.”

“Indeed, it would be years before Prince Laurent is wed. Still, it would be wise if we secure this match for you now. With a Veretian consort on your arm, Delpha would remain uncontested. It would give our people peace of mind to know that there would be no more war at the border.”

“I understand my duty. Akielos comes first.” Damen nodded, ready to bring peace to his people by any means necessary.

“That is the burden of a king and a lesson you have taken to heart young. In a week’s time we are invited to dine with the Veretians inside Marlas. We will formally begin negotiating terms for peace and a treaty will likely be drawn up. I am trusting you to befriend the Veretian princes. Auguste will be King along with you and it would be prudent to get the measure of him.”

“I will not fail you, father.”

With a tired smile, Theomedes pat his son’s hand before sitting back to rest his head against the king’s high chair. “You never have, Damen.”

— (TW)

True to his word, Auguste had dutifully watched over Laurent. Or he did until his father summoned him into his chambers. The king had returned from his initial parlay with Theomedes and wished to speak with his heir. Concerned over Laurent’s safety, Auguste posted two of his most trusted men to guard his brother. Jord and Orlant were Betas but no less skilled for it. Their loyalty to Auguste was unquestioned. 

Still, it meant Laurent had to be left alone without the comfort of a familiar Alpha for a time. He was small for his age and took up almost no room at all on the large four poster bed he was burrowed in. Auguste had left one of his shirts behind for him to hold onto. Despite the perspiration from the presentation heat, Laurent felt cold. Without his brother there to hold his hand and keep him company, he succumbed to the fever.

An Omega’s first heat was not to find a mate, it was merely to begin puberty and the development of scent glands. There was no desire as would be expected of a fully matured Omega in heat. Instead, a presenting Omega went through a feverish ordeal where their body required rest and plenty of fluids. The presence of trusted family normally helped the process go smoother. It was necessary for them to feel safe and be around familiar scents in order to avoid stress. Otherwise their body would shut down in defence.

When a cold hand brushed Laurent’s cheek, he was relieved. He thought that for a moment, his brother had returned. Something felt wrong, however. Auguste’s hands were always warm. The scent was also off. It was sour with intent. Though his senses were still developing and he couldn’t be sure. Feeling delirious with fever, Laurent tried to open his eyes slowly and it was not without effort.

“You poor thing.” Cooed his uncle, “You’re drenched in sweat. Don’t worry, I’m here to help you.” He pulled the covers off Laurent’s shoulders and clicked his tongue. “No wonder you’re so warm. The physician didn’t think you’d sweat through your pyjamas?”

The next thing Laurent knew, his soft pyjamas were being peeled off of him and all he could do was whimper. He trusted his uncle but he wasn’t soothed like he was with Auguste. For some reasons, his nerves were on edge. Was it that sour scent making him feel this way?

“There, that’s better.” His uncle was smiling, Laurent could just about make it out through his heavy eyelids. A cool wet cloth pressed to his skin and cleaned him off. It was a gesture that was appreciated given how sticky he felt.

“T-thank you,” Laurent managed weakly, expecting that to be the end of it. Yet his uncle continued his attentions and stroked at his flushed skin. It confused him, “What-“

His uncle shushed him and began to rub circles on the back of his neck, right on his aching scent glands. The effect was immediate and he felt his limbs go limp. The fever was trying to pull him under and he was only vaguely aware of being moved. Laurent laid on his stomach and his hips were pulled up high enough for a pillow to be pushed under him. 

“Good boy, just go back to sleep. I’ll make the pain go away. This is exactly what you need.” A belt was being unbuckled behind him and Laurent couldn’t make sense of what was happening.

An angry shout that felt more like a roar echoed into the room. There was a commotion that Laurent couldn’t hear clearly. His body felt like it was shutting down. A primal sort of fear and sense of danger gripped him. 

“Laurie!” Auguste’s comforting baritone pierced through the haze and wrapped Laurent up in a soft blanket. 

Laurent gripped onto his brother to breathe in the comforting scent of protection coming off him. It was enough to help Laurent open his eyes and take in his surroundings. 

There was blood on his brother’s hands and more on the floor. 

“What happened?” The fog was clearing from his mind.

“You’re safe now, that’s all that matters. Someone tried to hurt you but he failed and I won’t leave your side again.” 

“You promise?”

“I promise.” Auguste held him tighter to his chest, shaking with suppressed rage. 

For the rest of the week, Auguste spent every waking moment watching over his precious little brother. Vowing that no one would ever again try and take advantage of Laurent, not while he still drew breath. 

The aftermath of Laurent’s presentation heat felt more brutal than the war itself. By the time he recovered, everything had changed. There was talk about his uncle being a traitor but Auguste was adamant on keeping Laurent out of that ‘messy business’. It meant that the guards were more tight lipped than usual and he couldn’t find out the details of what happened. No one would tell him who had tried to hurt him in his room. Or why. Laurent could only draw his own conclusions.

What he did know was the following; his uncle was being held in Fortaine under guard, the Akielons halted their siege, his father was hosting Theomedes and his heir for dinner and that the war was officially over. 

Everyone in the fort occupied themselves with preparations for the upcoming peace talks. This included Laurent being presented with a garment that he’d rather see burned in a fire. As a royal Omega, he was expected to wear a long silk tunic with a deep v neck along with ceremonial jewels. Laurent thought his court was taking his new ‘Jewel of Vere’ title a little too literally. He’d look more like a temple priest than a prince if he did not protest, which he supposed wasn’t far from the truth. The servants were definitely bowing lower than normal and looking at him as if he were their saviour.

Thankfully his brother was firmly on his side about his wardrobe and they instead had a seamstress modify one of his laced jackets. As long as he did not have his neck covered by cloth, it was fine, Auguste assured him.

The day of the ‘peace banquet’ as it was being called, Aleron entered Laurent’s chambers with an ornate box in his hands. Auguste followed close behind him, already looking quite regal in his Starburst dinner jacket and gold sash.

The king sat at the desk and opened the box with such reverence that Laurent was overcome with curiosity. He approached his father and brother to look inside.

“This belonged to your mother and her mother before her. It is now yours.” Aleron explained, lifting out a thick gold collar with delicate celestial imagery and small sapphires embedded in the stars. “King Gustav of Kempt only gave me the key to it when Hennike declared she would have me as her mate. I promised Auguste that he would be keeper of the key to yours. Do you agree?”

Until that moment, it had not felt real that Laurent was now an Omega. His mind knew what it had meant, of course. Yet it took laying his eyes on his mother’s maiden collar for his new reality to sink in. The right to bond with an Omega with a mating bite was a closely guarded privilege. Only the worthiest suitor would be granted access.

Tradition dictated that the key to an Omega’s collar be kept by a trusted guardian. Thankfully it was Auguste and not his father who would relinquish ownership of the key to a future mate. Laurent trusted his brother above all others and knew Auguste would listen to what or who he wanted.

“I agree,” Laurent’s throat felt dry. 

Aleron inclined his head and handed the collar to his heir. It was with tender care that Auguste approached Laurent and gave him a pained smile. If it had been anyone else, he would have kicked up a fuss over the ordeal. No doubt it was precisely why Aleron had agreed to allow Auguste to act as his brother’s guardian.

So he bowed his head to expose his nape and soon the cool metal clicked around his neck. The collar was surprisingly lighter than he had expected and it fully covered his still forming scent glands. A part of him felt safer with it on. Another wanted to scream.

The king presented a golden key that matched the style of the collar to Auguste and it was soon used to lock the collar.

“I will remove it for you whenever you wish, Laurie.” Auguste promised him softly.

“That said, he will have to wear it at court and at any public appearances. It is a precaution for his safety and it is now your duty to see to it.”

“I understand, father. I will keep him safe.”

Laurent was being treated as if he were made of glass. Delicate. Vulnerable. Defenceless.

When Laurent didn’t move or speak, his father approached him and ran a finger along the detailing of the collar. “I expect you to behave as befits a prince of Vere when the Akielons arrive. Theomedes will present his heir as a suitor for you. There will be no betrothal until we have considered all possibilities, of course. But it is important that they believe we will choose Damianos until the treaty is signed. Now now, no need to frown Laurent. You will not wed until you are of age. Your brother needs to marry as well. It is a prince’s duty and one we are bound to as royals.”

“Ah yes, my Patran princess. You’re lucky, you know Laurie. Father is at least letting you meet Damianos whereas I am betrothed to a princess I have never seen. What do you think the odds are that she doesn’t have pimples?” Auguste remarked lightly in an effort to cheer up his melancholy brother.

It worked and Laurent cracked his first smile since his heat began.

Aleron exhaled sharply, unamused as always. The king was not known for his humour. “Princess Tamara is perfectly acceptable, Auguste.”

“Perfectly acceptable. Just what a bachelor wants to hear about his future bride.”

This time Laurent failed to suppress a chuckle and his brother’s eyes twinkled with triumphant delight.

With a sigh, the king stood up, “Get this nonsense out of your system before our guests arrive. I expect dignified princes not court jesters.”

“Yes, father,” Both brothers responded in unison.

Once they were alone, Laurent walked over to his mirror and saw himself in the collar for the first time. The fact that it was beautiful and suited him was a jarring experience. He had never dreamed of presenting as an Alpha like his brother. Truthfully, he expected to be a Beta like his uncle and support Auguste as a member of the Council. 

Male Omegas were rare, to the point where they were even revered in some cases. In Akielos, for example, they were the rarest and most expensive of slaves. Only nobility could dream of obtaining one and would famously treat them like spoiled house cats. In Vask, the act of child birth was akin a sacred rite. Apparently the more children one gave birth to, the greater the respect afforded. Tribe leaders were often matriarchs who drew their wisdom from motherhood.

Behind him, Auguste fiddled with the ornate key and appeared deep in thought. It was attached to a golden chain to be worn around the neck.

“Laurie… are you alright?” It was rare to hear such vulnerability in Auguste’s voice. Laurent always regarded him as unfailingly strong.

“I don’t know.” It was the most honest answer he could come up with.

“I suppose it is a lot to adjust to. I just want you to know that I’ll support you no matter what. If you never want to be mated then I’ll make sure you never have to be.”

Laurent knew that he meant it too. So in response he walked over and hugged Auguste, hiding his face on his brother’s chest. “You promise?”

“I promise.” Auguste held onto him tightly, “I’ll be lost as king without my clever little brother keeping the Council in line, you know.”

At that, Laurent smiled and felt his eyes tearing up a little. It comforted him to know his brother was firmly on his side. The heat may have distorted his memories but he remembered that his brother had saved him from something terrible. 

“That’s true, you’re too kind sometimes Gus. The courtiers will use that against you.”

“You’re the sweet one but you’re selective on who you show it to, aren’t you?” Auguste ruffled his hair fondly.

“Not everyone deserves it.”

Auguste laughed, “I can’t argue with that. Come, we best get you ready before father sends Louis to check on us.”

Laurent pulled away to wipe at his eyes, though he was grinning. “We can easily outrun that old goat.”

“I shall hear no sass about father’s valet, Laurie. He will outlive father for certain.”

“His valet will outlive us all.”

They both smirked at the idea. Feeling thoroughly cheered up, Laurent fixed his hair with a comb so that it fell over on one side of his face. Then carefully put on his thin circlet with a small starburst at the middle, it marked him as the second prince.

“There, princely enough for father do you reckon?”

“Perfectly acceptable.” Auguste nodded.

“Your face is perfectly acceptable.”

With a squawk of indignation, Auguste tossed straightened his back, “Cheeky! I’ll have you know that my face is very dashing and manly.”

“Says who?”

“Everyone.”

“They have to say that, you’re the Crown Prince.”

In retaliation to the tease, Auguste ruffled Laurent’s hair causing his circlet to go askew, “Alright mister Jewel of Vere.”

“Ugh! They’re going to call me that now, aren’t they?” Laurent rushed to fix his hair again before they left the room.

“You’ll get used to it. They started calling me the Starburst since I presented.”

“But yours sounds better.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” Auguste waggled his brows teasingly, which earned him a playful smack to his arm. He acted as if it hurt to amuse his brother but he was also cheered by seeing Laurent act like himself again. It was with smiles that they joined their father.

The future didn’t seem so bleak anymore.

—

Once on the the battlefield, Damen had caught glimpses of Auguste. His Veretian counterpart had moved with deadly precision and his men had flawless formations. That encounter had ended in a stalemate, with both of them choosing a tactical retreat after getting the measure of each other. Damen’s first impression of Auguste was begrudging respect. Now came his second impression and he couldn’t help but notice their similarities. 

Both kings had greeted one another formally and with the expected amount of ceremony. Their heirs, however, forgot protocol as if they were old friends within moments of meeting.

With a firm handshake, Auguste gave him an easy smile, “You’re smaller up close.”

Damen grinned, it was refreshing to meet someone of the same rank as him. They could speak as equals openly. The Veretian Prince was a Dominant Alpha like himself but not as large. Though he possessed pleasing colouring with his honey blonde hair tied back and grey-blue eyes. His presence was confident and belonging to someone born to rule. Perhaps it was inevitable for Damen to see himself in Auguste.

“That’s funny coming from someone who comes up to my nose.”

Auguste’s laugh was filled with mirth, “Could probably still knock you on your arse though.”

Damen responded with his own snort, “Now you’re speaking my language, how about a spar?”

“Really? I thought we were speaking mine. Excellent accent, by the way.” Unlike every other Veretian that Damen had met, Auguste came off as genuine. “How about we make some time tomorrow for a friendly bout on the training field?”

“It would be an honour. I have heard tales of your skill and I am eager to see it up close.”

“That makes two of us. I am fairly certain a few of my men still have nightmares involving meeting you in combat.”

“Exaggerations, I’m sure.” Damen chuckled.

“No, I’m serious. Ask my guard Orlant later, he’ll tell you.”

Before they could carry on, someone cleared their throat. Damen turned his head and finally noticed that the second prince had yet to be greeted. Prince Laurent had far softer colouring than his brother with hair so blonde it shone silver in the sun. He was a lithe boy with large eyes of the brightest blue framed by thick gold lashes. Auguste was browned and freckled from training and battle. Laurent was pale as milk and flushed a bright shade of peach as he tried to get their attention. Though still barely on the cusp of puberty, the newly presented Omega was already beginning to blossom into a beauty. Given a few years, Damen had no doubt that he’d grow into quite the head turner. 

“Ah this must be the peace bringer everyone is talking about. It is an honour to meet you, your highness.” Damen tried for a more gallant smile as he bent to offer his hand to the little prince. When it was taken, Damen was surprised to feel training callouses on Laurent’s hand. 

“It remains to be seen if I can say the same.” Drawled Laurent haughtily.

“Laurent!” Auguste widened his eyes down at his brother’s audacity before quickly turning to see if the kings had heard. 

Instead of insulted, Damen felt only amusement and brought Laurent’s knuckles to his lips as was customary with royal Omegas, “Then I will do my best to win your favourable opinion.”

“I shan’t hold my breath.”

To everyone’s surprise, Theomedes laughed upon his approach which served as sharp contrast to Aleron’s tense frown. For some reason Damen got the feeling that Laurent would be paying for his sass later.

“I see Prince Laurent is already making you work to earn his favour, my son.” Chimed in the Akielon King before greeting the Veretian princes. He addressed Laurent with a smile, “You remind me of my late Queen Egeria. She knew how to wrap every Alpha at court around her finger.”

‘Every Alpha except for you, given your bastard,’ Laurent wanted to say but he held his tongue as Theomedes kissed his hand. Given Kastor’s absence, it would not be wise to draw attention to the man.

“Our Queens had much in common, if that is the case.” Aleron offered as he pulled the attention of his Akielon counterpart for them to move into the dining hall. He then took the opportunity to compare Laurent to Hennike and failed to notice how it made his son withdraw into himself as a result.

Noticing the shift in mood, Damen lowered his voice for only the princes to hear, “Will you join us in the training field tomorrow, your highness? Judging by your hands, you must practise daily.”

The little prince blushed when hearing the invitation, perhaps not having expected it. He tried to shrug as if ambivalent but Damen knew he was probably pleased at being included. When he looked up, he saw Auguste’s approving smile. “He is quite good. I train him myself because he refuses any other teacher.”

Laurent nudged Auguste with a chastising glare.

“Will you refuse my instruction as well?” Damen teased, only to have the little prince make him the target of his displeasure.

“I don’t need a barbarian teaching me. In case you have failed to notice, I lack your gargantuan stature and overblown muscles. Techniques involving brute strength are useless to me.”

“Laurent!” Auguste squawked in surprise. “That was rude, apologise to Prince Damianos.”

“I apologise Prince Damianos,” Laurent mumbled reluctantly and crossed his arms like a petulant child, though Damen could hardly fault him for acting out. The poor boy had only just presented and was already having to meet a potential suitor.

“Please call me Damen and I take no offence. Prince Laurent has a point, strategy would serve him better than strength. How about a friendly wager?”

His offer caught Laurent’s attention and his expression became one of cautious curiosity. “A wager on what?”

“We can play a game where muscles do not matter. A little cerebral spar, if you will.” When Laurent began to furrow his brows with scepticism, he clarified, “A chess match.”

“What happens when I win?” How confident the princeling sounded. Damen had made the correct assumption on choice of challenge.

“If I win, then you will allow me the honour of helping you with your sword work. After all, I would have proven my capability in strategy to you. If you win then I will grant you a wish.”

“A wish.” Laurent repeated, narrowing his eyes with suspicion.

“I will grant you any request. Within reason, of course.”

Considering the wager proposal, Laurent tapped his chin and took his time considering. Finally he nodded and held out his hand, fierce determination writ upon his face. Damen shook his hand, feeling as if he had already won something. It was rewarding to see the little prince smile with excitement.

—

The ‘peace banquet’ succeeded in alleviating tensions between the monarchs. Theomedes acted with the grace befitting a king and complimented the complex Veretian dishes. This was a subject in which Aleron was pleased to find common ground with. They discussed sauces and different regional roasts. Wines became a subject of some disagreement but all in good humour. Thus far, they were setting the tone for the upcoming negotiations and it was looking more and more like peace was a certainty.

“A most agreeable feast, Aleron. I am tempted to send one of my cooks to train in Arles.”

“I am glad you are pleased, Theomedes. Do you still have room for dessert?”

“How could I refuse? Arlesian sweets have risen to near mythic status in Ios. We are more known for the quality of our olives and grapes. Though there is a cheese and honey dish you must try…”

What most disturbed Laurent about the exchange was the normality of it. One would think they had never been at war to begin with. He was also struggling with figuring out what to make of Prince Damianos. It didn’t help that the giant Alpha smiled at him with the same gentle patience that Auguste gave him. Except Damen’s dimpled smile caused an odd flutter that Laurent couldn’t identify. He couldn’t deny that the Akielon was handsome. Laurent soon realised this was the first time he found anyone attractive. He blamed that dimple, there was something bewitching about it.

Both Crown Princes were far more alike than anyone would have expected. Laurent saw how easily they laughed together and got so carried away in conversation that they forgot about him. All he could do was pick at his food and listen instead.

Dessert was finally served and Laurent brightened when he was presented with a luscious slice of dark chocolate and raspberry gateau with a decadent scoop of berry sorbet on the side. His table manners were impeccable, a lesson his mother made sure he mastered. None of it hid his gusto for sweets, which soon had Theomedes himself turning his attention to the Omega princeling who shyly looked up.

“Your enjoyment makes me want to give you more from my own plate, Prince Laurent.”

“Oh, um,” Laurent felt the bite of embarrassment on his cheeks as he set down his fork.

“Don’t be shy, enjoy your dessert. I shouldn’t have disturbed you.” The old king chuckled, though he seemed to be appraising Laurent.

“My youngest is very fond of sweets, as you can see.” Aleron chuckled, “It has been the surest way to get him to behave.”

“What else are you fond of?” Theomedes asked politely.

Everyone else at the table was looking at him expectantly. Laurent was not used to being the centre of attention, that was usually where Auguste thrived. 

“I-I enjoy reading and going out riding, Exalted.”

“He is also quite the avid chess player. Councillor Herode will tell anyone who will listen that he taught him everything he knows.” Auguste added, sounding like a doting parent.

“Ah, a fine game that. My Damen is also very fond of horses, you know. For his name day, he was gifted a fine stallion. If you ask him, I am certain he will introduce you to the creature.”

Laurent hated that he looked hopeful at the prospect of seeing the sort of stallion that was large enough for Damianos to ride on. He quickly tried to compose himself, “I shall be sure to do that. Thank you, Exalted.”

Theomedes nodded his approval, “What lovely manners you have, Prince Laurent. You are a credit to your family.” The remark was met with a slight nod from Aleron. Both kings exchanged a look that caused Laurent’s anxiety to spike. Thankfully, it wasn’t long after dessert before he was excused to go to bed given his age. He hurried away to get a moment alone but he couldn’t rest with his collar still on and was loathe to go back down to ask Auguste to unlock it for him in front of the Akielons.

Instead he selected a book from the library and decided to read it inside Auguste’s room. Jord was just outside the door and didn’t bat an eye as he allowed him in. Curling up on the large bed, Laurent opened the tome on Akielon customs and settled in to wait for his brother.

—

Aleron invited Theomedes for a nightcap in the library to leave the Crown Princes to chat alone. Damen looked over with a tentative smile, “How am I doing?”

“Better than most. Laurent doesn’t normally take to new people so quickly. I am glad that you are not offended by his remarks. He is known for having a sharp tongue but I promise you that he is much more than what he seems.”

“He is certainly very clever and I think he is proud of his big brother. Isn’t that why he refuses any other teacher?”

Fondness softened Auguste’s expression at the thought of his brother being proud of him and for a moment seemed content. His face grew solemn and he turned his chair to better face Damen’s, “You must know something, Damen. No one is more precious to me than Laurent and I will not forgive anyone who hurts him. I will not let him be used as a political pawn either. He deserves better than that. Regardless of what our fathers decide, I will make sure that he chooses his own future. Is that clear?”

Before meeting Auguste, Damen wasn’t sure what to expect. Veretians had a certain reputation in Akielos for being conniving deviants. Yet here he was, face to face with a man determined to pave a better path for someone he loves. Auguste spoke to him honestly and frankly. It would be impossible not to harbour anything but respect for him after this. 

Damen gripped Auguste by the shoulder, “I swear to you now on my mother’s name that I will do all I can on my side to make sure Laurent will choose his own mate. My father will listen to me if he can feel reassured that the border will remain uncontested. For what it is worth, I did not agree in attacking so soon after your mother’s passing. It was dishonourable and I am sorry for it.”

Relief flooded Auguste and his shoulders relaxed. “I-yes. Thank you. That means more than you know. Perhaps between the two of us, we can keep the peace. My people have suffered enough.” He leaned back against his chair with a sigh and looked over at Damen with newfound solidarity, “I admit that I was nervous before meeting you. I am ashamed to say I misjudged you but I am glad to have been wrong. ”

“I feel the same. It comforts me to know you will be king as well. There is so much good we can do together as allies. Think of what a lasting peace could achieve for our people.” Damen could feel excitement coursing through him. A sort of innocent idealism that was inevitable in youth.

“You sound like Laurent.” Auguste smiled as he rested his chin on his palm, “He’s quite the peaceful dreamer, you know. Ask him yourself tomorrow and you will see. I would be lost without him explaining to me of how much better things could be for Vere and the common people with some policy changes.”

Damen reached for his wine goblet only to find it nearly empty and idly swirled its remains. “I am envious of your relationship with him. If Kastor was more like you- well, I would have liked to be closer to him.”

“Complicated, is it?”

“Something like that.”

“I am sorry to hear that. But surely you have no shortage of close friends and supporters? I have only just met you but you strike me as a good man.” Auguste poured out wine for them both himself. It wasn’t as graceful as a servant would have done it but it was a kind gesture nonetheless. 

“I do have a best friend. Nikandros is his name and there is no one more loyal on this earth. He would like you, I think.”

“Oh? Then bring him along tomorrow. I will bring Jord, he is one of my guards but a good man and a better friend.”

With a grin, Damen raised his goblet. “Let us toast.”

“What are we toasting to?” Auguste raised his own.

“To a better future.”

“I’ll drink to that.”

They did. Once Damen returned to camp later that evening, he felt hopeful. He could see a prosperous future for his people now that a lasting peace with Vere was possible. Auguste was similar to himself and he was confident they would work well together. It was a heady feeling.

He couldn’t wait to tell Nikandros.

—

When Auguste finally retired to his rooms, he wasn’t surprised to find Laurent asleep on his bed with a book on his chest. He smiled when he noticed the pyjamas his brother was wearing, bright green with a horse embroidered on the shirt. It had been a gift from their mother who knew of Laurent’s fondness for riding and had insisted on doing it herself. As a result it was a little clumsily done, far from the mastery of a skilled seamstress or artisan but no less special.

Quietly as he could, Auguste approached his brother’s sleeping form so he could unlock the collar. It couldn’t be comfortable to sleep in and he suspected that was why Laurent had come up to wait for him. 

The click was low but Laurent still stirred so Auguste did his best to slip off the collar without waking its wearer. As soon as his fingers touched Laurent’s neck, there was a frightened yelp, “No! Get away!”

Startled, Auguste retracted his hand as if burned. “Laurie, it’s me. You’re safe.”

Laurent was breathing so hard that he struggled to calm down but his eyes focusing on Auguste helped. “Gus?”

“I’m here.” Feeling powerless, Auguste could only wait it out, “I’m here.” He’d repeat like a mantra. It worked and Laurent launched himself into his brother’s arms, his breathing steadying slowly despite his trembling. Auguste ran his hand in Laurent’s hair in an effort to soothe him.

“Please don’t send me back to my room.” Laurent’s voice sounded so fragile, so frightened.

“Don’t worry Laurie, you can sleep here tonight. I won’t tell father.”

The way his little brother relaxed at those words, made Auguste want to never let him go. Laurent had always been shy and introverted but never afraid. Not like this. Occasionally he’d have a nightmare and seek out his mother or brother for comfort. 

Auguste remembered the day his mother summoned him to her chambers to introduce him to his newborn brother. He was only 12 at the time and yet when he held Laurent in his arms, he felt an instant surge of love and an instinct to protect. Baby Laurent had been known to cry whenever someone other than Hennike or Auguste held him, causing the young Crown Prince to dote constantly on his baby brother who beamed at him every time in innocent adoration.

They hadn’t spoken about what had happened that night with uncle and Auguste hoped Laurent had been too addled with fever to recall it. Perhaps that was the case but it had still left a mark on him. Like a wound that would scar but never erase. 

Auguste swore to himself that he would see his uncle pay.

Justice came at a price. Although a proven traitor, Laurent’s uncle had deeply ingratiated himself with several key figures at court before his sentencing. Losing Delfleur and two major players, caused Veretian nobility to lose faith in their King’s rule. A rift between the aristocracy and general public formed. Public support for the crown had only increased following the signing at Marlas. If a Councillor and a Prince could be put to the sword for their crimes then that meant no one was above the rule of law, a fact the people applauded and the aristocrats feared. 

Vere could not afford a divide of it’s people, however. Navigating court intrigue required the King to depend more and more on his heir. Auguste was their golden light, the Starburst heir to guide them out of war and uncertainty. In an effort to seal the divide within Vere, an increase to public appearances was demanded of Auguste.

There was one topic that all Veretians had come to agree on; their Peace Bringer was sure to usher in an age of stability. The elusive Jewel of Vere presented in their moment of greatest need. Prince Laurent was not yet old enough for his debut into court and for years the people had to content themselves with glimpses of him from afar.

—

It took five years passed since the war had ended for the Veretian economy to begin to properly recover and refill the royal coffers. The stability granted by the treaty allowed trade to flourish. Akielon merchants became a more common sight in Arles bringing with them the finest oils, wines and artisan products from the south. Meanwhile Ios delighted in varied textiles and jewels from the north. 

Time brought change along with it and not always welcome. King Aleron’s ailing health quelled any lingering animosity towards his ruling against his brother. No longer able to attend Council meetings, Aleron became bedridden before his time. The King’s dwindling health meant Auguste had to postpone official courtship proceedings with his future bride and took up rule in his stead.

Laurent spent his father’s last days attending to him. He was given instruction in how to help such patients be more comfortable by his father’s physician, Pascal. 

“Drink slowly, father.” 

Aleron struggled to swallow even if he thirsted for the poppy milk. Part of it dribbled down his chin, which Laurent wiped.

“Thank you, Laurent.” He weakly patted his son’s hand. 

They normally did not speak much during these moments. Aleron had not been a particularly affectionate father nor did he know much about his youngest son. Laurent thought back to the audience he had with Aleron on his 16th birthday.

|“Come closer, Laurent. Let me have a good look at you.” Aleron beckoned his youngest son to step over to where he stood by the tall window. 

Daylight illuminated Laurent’s fair features and danced along his newly adjusted maiden collar as he approached the window. His father lifted Laurent’s chin with a hooked index finger. For a moment there was a deep sadness in Aleron’s ageing gaze. Had he always seemed this tired?

“Every year you look more like Hennike.” 

“Is that why you avoid looking me in the eye too long?” Laurent couldn’t help but ask and his father dropped his hand with a sigh. His father had refused to remarry since his Queen’s passing and had not taken a Pet either.

“No, my boy, that is not why.” Aleron clasped his hands behind his back and looked out the window, “You have yet to officially debut at court and already prospects seeking a chance to bid for your hand come to me. The Council wonders if perhaps a match with a high ranking Veretian would not serve the country better in quelling noble unrest.”

Biting the inside of his cheek, Laurent held his tongue long enough to swallow the acid remark bubbling up. “Am I to wed a courtier or a foreign prince?”

“A prince would be a better option but we will allow the Council to believe I am considering other options. For now, I want you to charm any prospect that approaches you but make no promises. Always have a chaperone nearby and never go anywhere with them alone. Do you understand?”

“Yes father.” He was about to allow himself to be dismissed when a question burst out of him. “May I attend the next Council meeting? Auguste was my age when he started observing and I am certain I could learn much on how to support his reign.”

Aleron gave him an odd look before shaking his head, “Nonsense, you have your lessons.”

“But father, tomorrow’s meeting is at the same time as my Akielon lesson and I am already more fluent than my tutor-“

“No, Laurent.” His father told him in a tone that left no room for argument. At seeing the disappointment on his son’s face, he softened a little. “I know you wish to help your brother when he is king but the best way you can do so is through marriage. You need not concern yourself with such tedious matters. Your life will be one of leisure and luxury, I will make certain of it.”

It occurred to him then that his father thought he was being reassuring and genuinely believed an easy life birthing heirs would be exactly what Laurent would want. Aleron did not know the first thing about his own son.

“I understand father.”

With a brisk nod, Laurent was dismissed. As he left to change for his birthday dinner, he realised that had been the longest conversation he had with his father. Auguste had been frequently asked about his progress in his lessons and training when he was younger. Of course, Auguste was now a man grown and an active participant in statecraft. But Laurent couldn’t help but feel the difference in the way their father treated them. He knew he could do so much more.|

When Aleron broke the silence, it startled Laurent away from his thoughts, “I did not think my last days would come so soon. The Gods punish me for my sins. I will not see my 60th year.”

“There is still a chance you may yet recover.” How softly Laurent spoke then, unsure of how to process his own feelings.

“You know as well as I that this illness has no cure. Cancer is the Gods’ justice. Do not pity me, for I will meet my fate knowing I did what needed to be done even if I was too late in doing it. But to kill your own blood comes at a cost.”

Not knowing how to respond, Laurent merely reached for his father’s hand and looked down at where they touched.

“Remember your duty, Laurent. You were named Peace Bringer for a reason. I know I can trust you to help your brother during his reign.” Aleron slowly lifted his hand as if such a motion came at great cost and brushed the back of his hand along his son’s cheek. “Your bond is how brothers should be, for that I am glad. Hennike made certain you both grew to value kindness and loyalty”

Feeling a mist in his senses, Laurent sniffed and began to blink rapidly. 

“Are those tears for me? Auguste always did speak of your sweetness.” Aleron smiled, “Promise me one thing, Laurent. Make sure your brother goes to fetch his bride, he has put it off for far too long and Vere needs a Queen again. It will lift the people’s spirits after my passing.”

With a watery chuckle, Laurent nodded, “I promise even if I have to drag him over to Patras myself.”

—

Aleron’s funeral united all of Vere together in mourning. The King was buried in the royal family’s mausoleum alongside his predecessors and his beloved mate. For the months leading up to Auguste’s coronation, people came to the tombs to pay their respects. There was also some excitement in the air. A promise of a better future with the crowning of their Starburst.

Across the dressing room, Vere’s soon to be crowned King was frowning at his own reflection. It was a source of great exasperation for Laurent, who knew that everyone would find his older brother to be nothing short of perfection incarnate. 

“Gus, stop fussing. You look as regal as a lion.” 

“A lion? Are we Akielon now?” August shot his brother a fond chuckle. Yet still he had his valet adjust his royal purple cloak under his flowing hair. The Crown Prince’s blue now belonged to Laurent.

“Our coat of arms is made up of stars and rays. Likening you to a twinkling celestial object would hardly make you feel kingly.”

“Do you know what would make me feel kingly?”

“A shave?”

“Hilarious. Maybe you should moonlight as a comedy act.”

“Don’t be stupid.” Laurent rolled his eyes as he came over to stand next to his brother in front of the gilded floor length mirror to adjust his own robes made of the finest blue silk with gold embroidery. It made him feel like an overly decorated horse at the fair and didn’t even cover his collarbone. “What would my stage name even be?”

“Vinnie the Viper. Step right up for a voluntary tongue lashing. You’d make a killing with the masochists.” 

Auguste was suddenly on the receiving end of one of Laurent’s deadpan stares. It took only a moment before they shared a chuckle. Even Auguste’s valet had to suppress a smile and both brothers doubted that Louis even had a sense of humour. It was all those years spent serving their late father that drained it most like.

“Well I suppose one would have to be a masochist to see my act, with a name like ‘Vinnie’.”

“Ah you might be surprised. I’m not even married yet and already you’re getting more prospects than I ever did. Your face is enough to make suitors forget your sharp tongue, you know.”

“Gus-“

“I’m just saying, Laurie. I had, what? Maybe two princesses I could possibly marry. Speaking of princesses, Zelenka arrived and she is as impressive as her mother. You’ve seen her, haven’t you? She arrived this morning.” The finishing touches were being placed onto August with the heirloom necklace that might as well be a chest plate and Auguste turned to gauge his brother’s reaction.

“I do recall a Vaskian princess remarking on how spectacular the new ‘Golden Alpha King’ was. Right before she remarked on how narrow my hips were, you know, for an Omega.” He wrinkled his nose at the memory. “Though it was after Councillor Jeurre not so subtly suggested I keep Prince Torveld company during his visit.”

With a sympathetic glance, Auguste turned to smooth his brother’s hair. It fell in waves down his nape. “Don’t listen to any of them, Laurie. All this selling you off nonsense ends with my reign. I promised you, did I not?”

Hesitant, Laurent raised a hand to his maiden collar and wondered if he’d miss its weight when he no longer had to wear it. “You did.” He acquiesced, letting his hand fall from where it had lingered on his own throat. 

Auguste lifted Laurent’s face via a flick of his nose with an index finger. “Have I ever broken a promise to you?”

“No.” Laurent admitted, looking up to see his new King smiling indulgently at him.

“Exactly. I mean to keep my word to you. So if you wish to spurn every Alpha who tries their luck, you have my full support. No one will come near you unless you wish it. Just do me a favour and be gentle with your rejections on the more important suitors. The last poor boy who confessed his love ended up crying in the middle of a garden luncheon. I could hear his wails from across the grounds.” There was amusement clear in Auguste’s tone, as if he wasn’t all that upset over the incident. 

“I will make no such promises.” Laurent’s remark earned him a ruffling of his hair. To which a horrified gasp was heard from Louis who rushed over to adjust the mussed hair with a comb, artfully arranging Laurent’s hair to fall in waves, “See what you did? You gave poor Louis grey hair.”

“I am quite used to it, your highness.” Mumbled the irritable valet, intent on making certain his Princes were presentable for the ceremony.

“My apologies Louis, but I assure you that if my brother walked out with ruffled hair, all it would do is start a new court trend.” Auguste flashed Laurent a wink, who in turn rolled his eyes.

“That’s ridiculous.”

“His majesty is correct.” Louis piped in, feeling comfortable in his years of service as a royal valet to chime in from time to time. Yet he was too much of a traditionalist to do it often. “Our Jewel is widely admired throughout Vere. The common folk all sing his praises and speak of his beauty and generosity.”

That seemed to be too much for Laurent who felt the bite of embarrassment on his cheeks, much to his brother’s delight who laughed. “You think that’s too much? Just wait until the foreign delegations get a good look at you. By next week, we may be offered an entire annexed region for your hand. Or maybe we’ll even gain Delfleur back if you smile at Damianos long enough. Remember him? Didn’t you have a massive -”

At the mention of the Akielon Crown Prince, Laurent narrowed his eyes venomously and Auguste knew a threat was nigh. “Shut it or I’ll tell Princess Tamara about the fountain incident.”

Auguste gasped in horror, “You wouldn’t.”

“Wouldn’t I?”

“Traitor. You know, I could have you thrown in a cell for this kind of talk once I’m king.”

“You could but you won’t. I’m your favourite.”

“Damn. That’s right.” With good humour, Auguste pulled his brother in for a hug and mussed his hair yet again. He was easily a head taller than Laurent and used this to his advantage.

Behind them, poor Louis gasped yet again. “Your Majesty, I beg you! Please keep the Crown Prince’s hair untouched until the end of the ceremony.”

“Sorry Louis.” Both brothers replied in unison.

—

“Damen, if you make that face one more time then I shall be forced to stop our entire company to knock some sense into you.” Nikandros announced as he guided his horse next to the Crown Prince who had begun to lag slightly, thus forcing their company to slow down.

“I’m perfectly fine, Nik.” Damen insisted and picked up the pace.

Nikandros was not deterred and kept up with a suspicious narrowing of his eyes. “You haven’t been fine since Kastor’s wedding.”

“I do not wish to speak about my brother’s wedding.” It was the most curt Damen had ever been with his oldest friend, which was why Nikandros knew better than to carry on. Instead he rode next to him in silence and took in the cool air of Vere.

Instead of sailing directly to Arles from Ios, Damen had taken a detour north so he could invite Nikandros, now Kyros of Delpha, to join him on his trip. The invitation to attend Auguste’s coronation arrived months prior the notice of Aleron’s death had arrived. The Veretian people had been prepared for their previous king’s passing. At the time, he had set his hopes on a court lady from Aegina. 

Jokaste had been everything Damen had ever wanted in a bride. She was an Omega of arresting beauty, clever enough to navigate court life and had an irresistible charm about her. He remembered taking in her scent one night in the gardens as he vowed to make her his Queen. She wore a jewelled maiden collar that could not cover the sweetness of her scent. How she had moaned for him as he kissed her neck then.

He felt silly now for believing she had felt the same way about him, given that she married his brother. Theomedes had all but ordered him to go to Vere to help clear his mind after his moping started whispers and Kastor would not tolerate a scandal over his nuptials.

So here he was, trying to be a good brother and actively keeping busy in the hopes he could be genuinely happy for Kastor. He also owed it to Auguste to be there for him, the treaty was expiring in less than two years after all. 

“Arles is near, we will arrive with hours to spare.” Nikandros remarked carefully, unsure if Damen was ready to talk.

“Let us take a rest by the stream so we arrive fresh. Auguste deserves that much from me.”

They moved the horses and wagons along the road until they came by the stream. The men took a break and Pallas, a young noble serving in Damen’s guard, took it upon himself to make sure Damen’s horse was fed and watered. A new slave who had been gifted to Damen by his father in the hopes it would distract him left his spot in the wagon to make himself useful. Before he knew it, Damen was being presented with a small bowl of fresh water and a washcloth. 

“Thank you Erasmus.” The slave flushed with delight and his hazel eyes dared a glance before gracefully averting his gaze. Erasmus was a tanned youth with light brown hair that looked blonde in the light and so eager to please that Damen often found himself charmed by his innocence. 

The Akielon delegation freshened up before entering Arles. Although they would no doubt be attended to with baths and comfortable rooms, Damen was loathe to arrive covered in dust from his travels. He could hear his father’s voice in his head chastising him if he dared otherwise.

—

Tedium gripped Laurent during the ceremony and he had to kneel next to Auguste with his head bowed in deference. This was normally not an issue for Laurent given his admiration for his brother but it prevented him from keeping an eye on what the courtiers and Council members were up to. There were whispers, of course, but nothing loud enough to discern. It would not be tolerated to make a fuss during a coronation, after all.

The bishop droned on about the historical significance of each reign of their dynasty. It was symbolic to pass along wisdom of predecessors onto the new monarch. Then there was the transfer of crowns. Auguste crowned Laurent as his heir by removing his own thin circlet. Then Auguste rose to receive the heavier crown, making him King of Vere. Applause filled the grand hall when the bishop announced the start of the new reign.

Finally, Laurent could now stand and turn to follow his brother to the throne. He stood on the right side as Auguste sat down for the first time as King. There was silence as all Veretians in the room bent the knee. The only ones who bowed instead were foreign delegations, which was proper considering they were sworn to other monarchs.

That was when Laurent made eye contact with Damianos of Akielos. The barbarian Prince was looking right at Laurent and broke into a warm smile. Laurent’s carefully constructed dignity vaporised as a blush gripped him, forcing him to avert his gaze. He’d never had such a reaction with anyone before. Not a single Alpha had caught his eye. In fact, he would go so far as wrinkle his nose in disgust whenever they were unable to control their pungent pheromones near him. An occurrence that was far too frequent for his liking. A single look from Damianos however and he was struggling to compose himself. It was that dimple paired with more muscles than was decent. Why must Akielons insist on having such revealing garments? The crimson cape he wore did nothing to shield prying eyes from the strongest legs that Laurent had ever seen and he was suddenly reminded why his younger self had thought him so attractive.

His control over his own scent glands must have slipped because he caught Auguste raising a brow at him just in time for the courtiers to rise. Catching himself, Laurent took a deep breath and focused his attention on the oaths of fealty.

One by one, nobles swore allegiance to Auguste. Every single one was also on the receiving end of an appraising stare from Laurent as they did so. He had spent too many years dismantling their uncle’s lingering influence under their father’s nose. Now was a time for hope and Laurent had made certain to stack his brother’s Council with staunch loyalists to the crown. 

Lady Vannes, the Vask Ambassador joining the Council had been a particular victory after making sure Audin was ousted after Laurent found out he had indulged in the same manner of depravities his uncle enjoyed. Lord Berenger was young but his ideals aligned with Auguste and made a fine addition as well. Chelaut, Herode and Jeurre remained but Laurent knew the latter was soon to retire thanks to a little investigation into disappearing royal funds.

Laurent was determined to help his brother reign as he wished and pass the policies they had discussed.

It wasn’t too long before the foreign delegations began to pay their respects. To Laurent’s amusement the Vaskian princess, Zelenka, made Auguste uncomfortable with her remarks on his ‘evident’ virility. Even going so far as inviting him to a coupling fire with ‘only the finest’ Omega women. Laurent planned to tease his brother mercifully on that for weeks. Maybe even months.

The Kemptian ambassador was accompanied by their cousin, the former Queen Hennike’s cousin’s nephew twice removed or something to that effect. Truthfully Laurent had to double check exactly how related they were. Duke Frederick was a tall Alpha close to Auguste’s age with sandy blonde hair and a neat beard. He embraced Auguste like a brother but appeared to pause when he got to Laurent. 

“Your highness, I see the rumours of your beauty have for once not been exaggerated.” It was one thing hearing about it, one could suppose, and another thing entirely to witness the famed ‘beauty without equal’. Out of respect, Frederick did not embrace Laurent and instead kissed his knuckles with a lingering press of his lips.

“Thank you, cousin. What do these rumours they say of my wit? Or is it just my face being spoken of?” He drawled, disliking the prickle of facial hair on his hand and retracted it as soon as was reasonable.

“Oh, I do not know.” The poor Alpha seemed distressed at possibly committing a faux pas.

Auguste was swift to interject. “There will be time yet for you to find out, cousin. You must sit by me during dinner, I wish to hear news from Kempt.” 

It only escalated from there as Prince Torveld and Princess Tamara approached. The Patran envoy appeared to be a thinly veiled excuse to court potential matches with the Veretian royals. The Princess was a lovely Omega with soft brown hair plaited into complex braids around her head. It was her mossy green eyes that appeared to enchant Auguste, however, as he barely noticed Torveld holding Laurent’s hand with gentle reverence. 

“Your Highness, I have heard that you are a gifted chess master. Would you honour me with a match before I depart?” 

It was an innocent enough invitation and remembering Auguste’s plea to turn down the more important suitors gently, Laurent found himself agreeing. “The honour is mine, Prince Torveld. I have heard the same of you and I would delight in having a worthy opponent sit at my chess table.”

Close proximity to Torveld confirmed that the older Prince was in fact a Beta and that seemed to set Laurent at ease in his presence. Even if he ended up rejecting an offer of formal courtship, he doubted it would derail into an international incident.

Last, but certainly not least, Prince Damianos approached alongside Nikandros, the Kyros of Delfleur (or Delpha as they insisted on calling it). The barbarian royal was even more impressive up close and time had only done him favours. His stature was considered the ideal physique for an Alpha. The Kyros himself was another impressive Alpha, though he would have been more striking if he was not accompanying his devastatingly handsome Crown Prince. 

Laurent had to swallow. Somehow his mouth had filled with saliva as Damianos closed the distance between them to greet him. He was saying something but Laurent heard it as if underwater. It was Auguste’s voice that cut through the mental fog.

“He would be delighted, I am certain.”

“What, now?” Laurent said intelligently. Inwardly cursing himself for getting distracted by the darkest lashes he’d ever seen on a man.

“Accompanying our esteemed guest on a morning ride. Tomorrow.” Auguste informed him with a grin. The sort of grin that told Laurent he was having fun at his expense.

“Yes. I am quite good at riding.”

What possessed him to phrase his response that way? Embarrassment flooded his face and glanced over to Damianos, preparing for the worst. The Akielon Prince was smiling with such warmth that it was disarming.

“I remember. At Marlas, you would often run off with that docile mare of yours. What was her name?”

“You remember Blanche?” 

“Of course, she was a beautiful horse.”

“She is older now and too lazy for a long ride.”

“That is because you spoil her.” Auguste chuckled fondly.

“I do no such thing.”

“You can tell Damianos all about how you don’t spoil your horses over dinner. He’s sitting by you.”

“I would love to hear all about it, your highness.” Damianos assured him and sounded so genuine that Laurent could only nod.

They bowed once more to Auguste and departed so that the ceremony could conclude. Mercifully the crowd began to disperse as soon as Auguste stood to conclude the proceedings. He was now officially King of Vere.

Laurent was also officially going to strike him for seating him next to the world’s most impressive specimen of Alpha without telling him. He informed Auguste thusly with a look as they walked down the hallway to change out of their coronation clothes. They were closely followed by two of their guards, Jord and Lazar.

“You planned this.”

“My beloved baby brother, I haven’t the foggiest of what you could mean.”

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice that every foreign delegation came to pay their respects to you accompanied by suitors?”

Behind them, Jord exchanged a look with Lazar who grinned.

“Yes, but it’s not my fault. The Council insisted because you’re over 18 now and should be at least pretending to entertain their offers. No need to fuss over it Laurie, it’s just diplomacy. My wedding to Tamara will buy you more time to stall. Why do you think Torveld is also here?”

“So he isn’t trying to court me? He really is just here to help his niece secure a match with you?” Laurent narrowed his eyes in mock suspicion, causing Auguste to snort.

“Well, technically the match is already secured.” The new King’s face took on a faraway look often seen in daydreamers, “Wasn’t she lovely?”

Laurent sighed, “You’re hopelessly smitten with Tamara, aren’t you? At this rate, I’ll be passing along my position as Crown Prince sooner rather than later.”

“Just as you wanted, Laurie. You’ll be heading the Council in no time.” Auguste reminds him, then a slight twinkle of mischief crossed his eyes, “Unless…”

“Unless what?” 

“Well, you did seem to like Damianos. Maybe the treaty will hold firm after all.”

“I did not!” Laurent protested hotly.

“Begging your pardon, Your Highness, but you did.” Jord piped up in his usual calm tone.

“Oh aye, first time you ever released involuntary pheromones. Not that I blame you, those Akielons are something else.” Lazar added unhelpfully. Worse still, he looked annoyingly dreamlike himself. “Did you see his guard? Wouldn’t mind getting a leg over on-“

“I refuse to entertain this topic any longer. Jord, come along, his majesty needs to explain propriety to Lazar and I have to change out of his robe for the banquet.” His tone left no room for argument. Auguste was heard laughing with Lazar as Laurent turned the corner.

—

The coronation seemed to go by without incident. However, Laurent had stolen the show just by existing. Veretians were very proud of their new king, who was everything a ruler ought to be. A strong Alpha who was also honourable and fair-minded. The nobles admired his impeccable lineage, general amiability and his good humour. The soldiers were unflinchingly loyal to Auguste and were prepared to follow him into any battle. The common folk themselves were sick with love for their young new King who had made a habit of getting to know them by going into towns and villages to ask them what he could do to help them. 

Yet it was the new Crown Prince that had everyone at the coronation whispering. No creature who walked the earth could compare to how ethereal Laurent looked when King Auguste placed his former circlet onto his brow. The Omega Prince kneeling before his King in blue garments that made his pale skin glow cut quite the striking figure. 

By the time the procession had concluded and the festivities had begun to celebrate the start of a new era, all that anyone could talk about was Laurent. Prince Damianos of Akielos was no exception.

Erasmus was carefully arranging a crown of gold laurels into Damen’s curls. For the banquet, Damen had decided to look his best. Nikandros, who was already dressed and nursing a goblet of wine, merely stared at his best friend with exasperation. Only that morning Damen had been in a mood over one blonde Omega and now he was smitten over another one cut from the same cloth. There was not enough wine in Vere to help Nikandros handle this situation. He had taken one look at Laurent and knew it was over for Damen.

“Did you see the way he looked at his brother? You don’t expect to see that sort of fierce loyalty in Vere, do you?”

Nikandros avoided commenting by focusing on the wine. He hated to admit it but Veretian reds were indeed superior in flavour profile to their Akielon equivalents. Still, they had a long way to go with their white wines, much to his satisfaction.

“I haven’t seen him in years. Remember when he suddenly presented at Marlas? He was so small back then.” Damen prattled on. “Do you think he likes flowers? I know he loves books. As a child he was always reading. But he would suit white flowers so well. Don’t you agree?” He looked over his shoulder, “Nik, are you even listening?”

The Kyros begrudgingly stared back at his friend and Prince with a sigh, “Ah, do you actually want an answer or do you want to keep pining over the pretty blonde Omega?”

“I was not pining.”

“Damen, you haven’t stopped staring at the poor boy since he made his appearance. Now, you can’t get him out of your mind. I get it, I do. He’s very beautiful.”

“He’s not just beautiful. There is so much more to him! Weren’t you listening about the wit and the books and the loyalty?”

“I’m sure. Now do me a favour and ask him for a dance before Torveld beats you to it.”

“Torveld!?” Damen scoffed. “He’s a Beta!” 

“I doubt that will discourage him. Besides, he’s not your only competition. I saw some Veretian nobles making eyes at Laurent during the ceremony. Let’s see, ah yes there is also that Kemptian Duke.” Nikandros only needed a once over of the room to determine the ‘threats’ to his Prince. Though part of him could not believe he was using his education and training for such a frivolous purpose.

Damen gritted his teeth, his inner Alpha suddenly on alert by the prospect of so much competition for the Omega’s affections. However it was only momentary before he deflated. This was meant to be a diplomatic visit to show Akielon support for Auguste’s ascension. They had become friends years ago during the peace talks at Marlas, having found much in common as young princes. Vere had lost Delpha but Auguste had gained a loyal friend in Damen, who had every intention of honouring their promises now with his presence. He was also still nursing a broken heart and feeling less than confident.

“He might not even like me.”

At that low admission, Nikandros pinched the bridge of his nose, “Damen, you cannot be in earnest. You are the Lion of Akielos. The best warrior in five kingdoms and the largest, most desirable Alpha in Ios. Probably the world. Pull yourself together, flaunt that dimple of yours that makes the Omegas swoon and go talk to him.”

Even timid Erasmus looked up to smile encouragingly at his Prince. The Omega slave was so disarming with the purity of his support that Damen had to smile. “Do you agree with the Kyros, Erasmus?”

“Yes, Exalted. The Kyros speaks truthfully of your qualities. If this one may be so bold to say so, you are also the kindest Alpha.”

“Not as kind as you, little one. I will be late tonight so don’t wait up for me and get your rest. You must be tired from the journey.”

“Thank you, Exalted.” Erasmus bowed low.

“Now then, shall we get to the banquet?” Damen looked over to Nikandros who was frowning into an empty goblet.

“Yes, yes. Let’s go and woo this Omega Prince of yours.”

“He isn’t mine, Nik.”

“Oh please, this was all but promised years ago and he likes you as well.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Easy, he only blushed with you. The others who spoke to him barely got a reaction out of him.”

“Was that a blush? He’s so fair, I wasn’t sure if he was just feeling warm with all those layers on.”

Nikandros sighed and opened the double doors for Damen. Thankfully Pallas would be attending the banquet alongside them as their guard. The Kyros would need some company as Damen flirted with the Veretian Omega.

Veretian banquets consisted of sumptuous food, lavish decorations and indulgent entertainment. After the loss of his wife and betrayal of his brother, King Aleron had opted for austerity. Though it served Vere’s economy in its recovery, it also left its people starved for a little decadence. In an effort to begin his reign on a more positive note, Auguste allowed his courtiers to bring their Pets to his coronation banquet. 

Lord Berenger’s Pet was a waif-like young man with long red hair down to his waist and covered in gauzy silk. Gold chains adorned him as he mesmerised the banquet quests with his talent for fire spinning. He held two batons with the ends lit with flame and spun them into the air with such grace that there were audible gasps. The Pet arched his back wantonly and silk loosened to fall over his shoulder to reveal the tantalising sight of a pink nipple pierced with a gold ring. 

“Is that Pet meant to be an Omega or a Beta? I cannot tell.” A blushing Pallas murmured to Nikandros who appeared to be less than impressed by the spectacle.

“Does it matter? They all look like that. Thus far I have only seen one Alpha Pet and she belongs to Lady Vannes.” Began the Kyros, more hungry than entertained. He wished they would announce that their dinner was served. 

Speaking of the Councillor, she had somehow manifested herself next to Nikandros with an all too cunning smile. She wore an elegant black gown with an empire bust line in silver embroidery and white puff sleeves. Even Nikandros had to admit she looked far more sensible than the other peacocks around him, “Did I hear my name? Why Kyros, if you wished for my company, you needed but ask for it. I’d be pleased to join you. In fact, you are far more agreeable company than my colleagues.”

“Lady Vannes,” Nikandros gave her a stiff bow while Pallas went lower behind him. He couldn’t fault the man, after all he was of lower rank than she. “We were only remarking on the Pets we have seen.”

“Did my Talik catch your eye? How deliciously shocking that an Alpha as impressive as yourself might find her to be to your taste. But I suppose spending so much time serving your exquisite specimen of a prince would change anyone’s tastes.” Remarked the Councillor with a serpentine amusement.

Everything about what she just said ruffled Nikandros in a way that tempted him to challenge her to a duel for his and his prince’s honour. He reminded himself that this was a diplomatic mission and tensed his jaw to hold back the urge. “You misunderstand, my lady. I have no taste for Alphas.”

“No? A pity, such a preference would have made you more interesting.” She sighed softly and looked around the room while sipping at her champagne, “Speaking of princes and pity, I pity my own. Prince Laurent is not fond of such gatherings and I can see why. Look at how they swarm around him like drooling hounds in rut. Rather pathetic, don’t you agree?”

“Hmm.” Nikandros knew better than to give his opinion so readily to a Veretian and he also paused his drinking when she came in close proximity to him. He thought it best to keep his wits about him. A brief glance to where Pallas had been standing and he had to do a double take to find the Prince’s personal guard chatting with one of Auguste’s guards. A man with light brown hair, grey eyes and the sleaziest smile Nikandros had ever seen. In fact, he was ready to rescue Pallas from an uncomfortable exchange with the Veretian man when he heard a flirtatious laugh coming from his own countryman. The utter betrayal.

“I am Pallas, it is a pleasure.” Nikandros heard him say in heavily accented Veretian.

Helplessly, he searched the room for Damianos as Vannes chatted away. When he found his prince, he appeared in serious discussion with Auguste and that was not something Nikandros felt he ought to interrupt. Of course Damen kept glancing over to Laurent like a lovesick puppy.

“His odds are rather good if you’d like to join in.” Vannes had doubtlessly carried on the conversation without him paying her attention.

“Odds?” Nikandros asked and immediately regretted it after seeing the twinkle in the lady’s dark eyes which he finally noticed were lined in kohl in the Vaskian style. Why were Veretians simultaneously attractive and duplicitous? 

“There is a friendly little betting pool going on who Prince Laurent will select to open the dances. My gold is on your delectable prince.”

“As it should be, he is by far the best choice.” Nikandros told her with no small amount of pride in his tone.

Vannes loosened an almost girlish giggle, “You shall hear no argument from me. Though just between us…” She lowered her voice and leaned closer to his ear which he scowled in response to, “You are more my type.”

With a wink, Vannes left him alone to ponder the exchange. He hated how pleased her smile was and even more how flushed with anger he felt. It was lucky that she was a lady or he might have had to draw his sword! Nikandros was not quite in the clear yet, out of the corner of his eye he spotted Princess Zelenka of Vask coming his way.

The night could not end fast enough.

—

If Laurent had to hear one more half-baked poem about his beauty, he was going to scream. He was naïve to expect all the attention to remain on Auguste that evening and normally it was. But this was technically his first official public appearance and now that he was Crown Prince, he couldn’t hide away. Not to mention it was his duty as Crown Prince to open the dances that evening and had the unpleasant task of selecting a dance partner. 

Never did Laurent believe he’d miss the days where his father kept him tucked away in the private wing of the palace.

The worst part was the constant Alpha pheromones battling for dominance in an attempt to charm him. Laurent found it physically taxing to will his nose not to curl in disgust. His own courtiers were clamouring for his attention and he was quickly becoming overwhelmed by it all.

When Tamara of Patras cut in remarking that she was in need of some air, Laurent practically jumped at the considerate offer.

“Goodness, it is ever so warm in here with the flames and perfumes. Prince Laurent, would you be so kind as to show me where one might enjoy some fresh air?”

“Of course, Princess Tamara. Right this way,” He gestured away from the crowd after excusing himself. Such an exit prevented courtiers from following. The only people who did trail after them was the ever dutiful Jord and who Laurent assumed was Tamara’s own guard.

“There, much better.” Tamara remarked with a smile as she breathed in the night air once they were outside in the courtyard, though still nearby to hear the musicians playing. The Princess wore a tasteful sage green gown that accentuated her small waist and was open at the back with a ribbon attached to the back of her own maiden collar. It was a rose gold collar with an emerald on the clasp. Her hair was less elaborate than at the coronation and wore a matching tiara instead.

“I am in your debt, your request was well timed.”

“You owe me nothing, your highness. I have a sensitive nose myself and I merely thought you might feel similarly.” 

“I do and I am grateful for your thoughtful gesture. It is a relief to clear my nose in the cool air.” Laurent took a moment to lean over a stone railing and look up at the stars. His long coat used to belong to Auguste and he had it tailored to fit him better. The ceremonial robes were a little too feminine for Laurent’s tastes and he felt more comfortable in proper laced trousers. Though there was little he could do to hide his maiden collar.

“Then I am glad to have been of service to you, your highness. Now we are able to have a moment to talk without suitors buzzing about.” Tamara had a grace to her movements and spoke Veretian with a charming lilt. 

“They are fond of buzzing, aren’t they?” Laurent remarked, instantly at ease in the presence of another Omega. He studied Tamara more closely now that he had a moment to acquaint himself properly with his future sister-in-law. She was 25 years of age and considered to be marrying much later than usual. 

“I am only spared such attentions because of my betrothal to your brother. Though there are still customs to be followed before it is all official.” 

“I can imagine. I was almost betrothed myself years ago but Auguste stepped in so that I would have a choice in the matter.”

That earned him a smile from the princess, “I am pleased to hear that. Your brother seems to be a good man. I confess I was not certain if rumours of his honour and kind heart could be believed. Now that I am here, I do not think they were exaggerated.”

Laurent returned the smile, “He is the best person I know.”

“What of you? Is there a suitor that has caught your eye?” Tamara broke into a grin as she leaned in closer.

“Tammy, there you are!” A smooth voice behind them caused both Omegas to turn around to see Torveld had joined them in the courtyard. “The king asked for you.” He paused when he took in Laurent and inclined his head, “Your highness, I see my niece has stolen you away.”

“Rescued, more like.” Laurent nodded to Tamara.

“Oh you know how it is! Alphas were suffocating him in pheromones and I couldn’t very well leave him there.” 

Torveld smiled, “Quite rightly then. I shall keep him company for the time being but your intended wishes to speak to you. Best take advantage of the time you have to get to know him. You will only have one chance to choose another.”

The princess exhaled sharply but did not disagree, “I best not keep Auguste waiting.” She turned to Laurent, “Call on me soon, Laurent. I should like us to be friends.”

“I would like the same.” 

Satisfied, Tamara left the courtyard alongside her guard.

The Patran prince clasped his hands behind his back and admired the ornate fountain lit by torches in the courtyard. He was a little older than Auguste but fairly handsome and it reminded Laurent that he had a similar age gap to his older brother, King Torgeir. The Patran royal family was far larger with many more princes and princesses.

“Prince Torveld, may I ask what you meant that she would only have one chance to choose another?” 

“Oh it is part of our marriage traditions. Before the wedding there are courtship festivities leading up to it that give an Omega a chance to select another suitor. It rarely happens these days but it is how we honour the old ways. A nod to a more primal time.”

“I read about it but I did not know it still happened. From what I read it is more a formality than anything else. Auguste is set to travel to Patras soon and I knew it had to do with the custom of claiming the bride’s hand.”

“Indeed it is. Will you be joining him?”

“Nothing could stop me from attending my brother’s wedding.”

The older prince beamed in response, “Then you must allow me to show you Bazal during your visit. I promise you will enjoy it. There is a tower in the middle of the city that seems to touch the sky that you simply must not miss.”

“The library of Bazal.” Laurent’s eyes grew wide with excitement at the prospect, “I thought only scholars were allowed inside.”

“Ah but you are a scholar from what Councillor Herode tells me.” Torveld winked, “Do not worry, I will make certain you are allowed inside for as long as you wish.”

For once, Laurent was silenced by the gesture and had to take a moment before replying, “Thank you.”

“Personally, I prefer the company of my books than parties such as these but it is our duty to attend them.” Torveld exhaled and looked over to Laurent with an admiring glance.

“I am the same. Books expect nothing from you, they just are. Auguste used to tease that if I was lost, he would look for me inside my books because surely I would have jumped into them.”

“What a charming thought. Is there a story in particular you would have jumped into?”

No one but Auguste had ever asked him such things and Laurent looked over as if considering Torveld for the first time. “Oh, I suppose there is a story my mother used to read to me. A Veretian fairy tale about an Omega princess who takes up a magic sword when her homeland is threatened and all the Alphas are either dead or imprisoned. She ends up making the enemy king fall in love with her and softens his heart. Together they merge their kingdoms-.”

Although Torveld appeared interested in his tale and nodded encouragingly, Laurent wondered if the story was too radical to speak so openly about. 

“I know the tale, there is a happy ending. The author was an Omega too, I believe. Someone who dreamt of a better future for her gender.”

“Yes, that’s right.” Laurent grinned, pleased that he was speaking to someone well read.

The older prince couldn’t look away then and seemed unable to stop himself from brushing his fingers under Laurent’s chin, “Ah but there is more magic in your smile than in any story, your highness.”

Heat spread across Laurent’s cheeks. For a brief, wild moment Laurent thought that he was going to be kissed. Many had tried to kiss him before but he had yet to allow it. At that moment he wasn’t sure what he wanted. However the moment was passing and Torveld turned back to the doors leading into the great banquet hall. 

“I believe that was the dinner bell.”

Laurent had not heard anything but he felt himself nodding, “Of course. We best head back inside.”

As they made their way back inside, Laurent exchanged glances with Jord. His loyal guard raised a brow but held in his comment until they would have a moment alone to speak. 

—

Torveld had beaten him to it. Damen’s attention kept moving over to Laurent during the entertainment and he noticed when the Patran prince had followed the Omegas out into the courtyard. He also took note of the redness in Laurent’s cheeks when he emerged and it burned him that he didn’t know what happened between them. Embarrassingly, Auguste had noticed. The Veretian king excused himself from the arm of his princess to come pull him aside to speak to him.

“Damen, if you grip that glass any harder you’re going to break it.”

That helped him catch himself long enough to ease his grip, “Apologies.” Auguste fished the glass out of his hand and held it out for a servant to retrieve. He did not need to wait long.

“I had a feeling this was going to happen.” Auguste sighed, lingering with Damen outside the dining hall a moment as the guests went to find their seats on the long banquet table. 

“What do you mean?”

“Laurent has this effect on people and he isn’t even aware of it. Remember what I told you at Marlas?”

The weight of Auguste’s stare settled into his stomach and he felt himself dip his head, “You wanted him to choose his own future.”

“To that promise I still hold, Damen.”

“I want the same, Auguste. I hope you believe me when I say so.”

The new King of Vere smiled and patted Damen on his back before walking into the dining hall. “I do, which is why I haven’t challenged you to a duel. I want the treaty to last past its expiration but more than that I want Laurent to be happy. As your friend I will say this now, you have my blessing to court him as long as that is also his wish. Now as I mentioned before, I seated you next to him. You can thank me later.” With a subtle but firm push, Auguste directed him where he was to sit.

Everyone awaited the King before taking their seats. Soon conversations were in full swing and decadent dishes in rich sauces were being served. Laurent was seated to his brother’s right followed by Damen himself. Across sat Duke Frederick on Auguste’s left but for the moment, the Omega’s attention was fully on Damen.

“I have heard that in Akielos the feasts are more relaxed and instead of chairs you sit upon pillows. Is that correct?” Laurent spoke in charming accented Akielon and appeared a little shy to try the language.

Damen was hopelessly enchanted, “Yes, that is partially correct. We sit on raised platforms with pillows and eat without the need for such rigid posture.”

“Did I not say it properly? You seem amused.” 

“You speak beautifully, Laurent. I was just surprised at how advanced your Akielon has become. Last time you tried, you could barely pronounce the heavier consonants.”

A pretty blush began to spread from his ears and he looked down at his goblet. Laurent had refused any drink save water. “That was years ago.” He dismissed with a huff, “I have had proper lessons since then and I will have you know that I read all of the epics. Akielons have an overly romantic way of expressing themselves. Quite the surprise given your talent for battle.”

Although he was known for his general appetite, whether it be for food, life or love, Damen left his plate quite forgotten. Maybe he was nipping at his dish but no matter how complex the flavour, he only paid attention to Laurent, “Battle is its own art, wouldn’t you agree? Wielding a sword is a dance between warriors. To fight, you must have a cause to believe in. A passion, if you will. Akielons make love the same way they fight, with their entire being and heart.”

It might have been Damen’s imagination but he could have sworn that Laurent had glanced to his mouth more than once. The air began to smell sweeter. Tentative, shy and inexperienced. That was what he felt from Laurent’s pheromones. It was not overpowering and arresting like Jokaste. Nor was it as timid or demure like Erasmus. Laurent’s scent held the freshness of youth while still trying to assert itself. Though careful to keep it as contained as possible lest he catch the attention of every other Alpha at the table. No, this was for Damen only.

“The sword as a dance is not a concept you taught me in Marlas.” Laurent gifted him with a rare smile.

The Alpha was ready to move mountains to see Laurent smile like that every day, “Will you allow me to make amends and show you how it could be?”

“Tomorrow after our morning ride. Everyone will be nursing headaches after all this wine. I suggest you switch to water yourself. My victory would be meaningless unless attained fairly.”

Damen’s cheeks ached from smiling but he couldn’t find it in him to care, “How honourable of you. I look forward to seeing for myself if your swordsmanship has progressed as much as your Akielon.” He made it a point to push his wine away and call for a switch to water only.

Laurent approved the motion with a softened glance. “I have one more request to ask of you, Damen.”

His small name on Laurent’s tongue was sweeter than music, “Name it.”

“I must open the dances after dinner before I retire for the night.”

“Was that a request?” He couldn’t help but tease and he was rewarded with a flush.

“If you do not wish to be my dance partner then-.”

“No, I mean it would be my pleasure.” Was he releasing his own scent? Damen wasn’t entirely cognisant of it but somewhere in the back of his mind he would sense others glancing his way.

“Then I will come to you when it is time to begin, make certain you are in the ballroom after dinner is finished. I doubt you have mastered all Veretian dances but I trust you can handle a volta?”

He knew the dance and had seen it performed by Veretian performers. It was considered too indecent for the Akielon court but catching in popularity over in Kempt. The thought of being able to hold Laurent in such a way was tantalising. 

“A volta.” Damen repeated to make certain he wasn’t dreaming.

“Do you require instruction? You will be lifting me up into the air and we will be spinning about. Should be a simple matter for someone with such impressive pectorals.” Laurent was attempting to hide his anxiety over Damen’s lack of answer and it was endearing.

“I should be able to manage if you will still have me.” 

The shrug that the Omega offered him felt insincere and just like when he was a boy, Damen could tell he was pleased even if he did not show it, “You will do.”

“High praise.” He did his best not to laugh and Laurent only hummed in response so he persisted, “So you think I have impressive pectorals?”

Damen received a withering stare and smirked. As punishment for his cheeky remark, Laurent ignored his question and suddenly remembered his appetite. There were still more minuscule courses to sample anyway and Damen was satisfied to know he’d get his dance with Laurent.

The decadent desserts and digestif liqueurs left the banquet guests itching for movement. When Auguste stepped forward and ordered the musicians to play a volta, Laurent followed. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind that Princess Tamara would be selected as the King’s partner. Even so, the smiles they exchanged created excitement throughout the Veretian court. A love match for their King was a good omen and promised many heirs.

Less certain about Laurent, the courtiers watched with held breaths as he slowly but deliberately approached Damianos of Akielos. Somewhere in the crowd there was a cheer, those closer to the source knew it came from Lady Vannes. 

The volta dance was popular in Vere for the same reason couples used it to court one another. It required a more intimate touch and at less official functions the lead would lift their partner by the inner thigh. Of course it would be too scandalous for the King or Crown Prince for such a method and would opt for the more civilised lifting at the waist.

Music marched in time when the Veretian brothers took opposing positions with their chosen partners. String instruments began after the drums counted the steps. A count of six and on the fifth step the Omegas would jump and be lifted into the air at the waist by their Alphas. Tamara was open with her joy as she danced with a besotted Auguste. Laurent, ever in control of his expressions danced the volta the same way he approached any task; dutifully. His stoic dancing did not discourage Damianos who lifted the Omega into the air effortlessly. Onlookers would titter about how easy it was for the Akielon Alpha to hold their prince in the air. 

As the music began to wind down, Laurent found himself looking down at his partner who looked up at him with a heated gaze. Their faces close enough to feel each other’s breaths. Slowly, easily, he was lowered at a pace where he would feel his Alpha’s body heat through the thin layers of fabric between them long enough to audibly gasp. Slick threatened to leak out of him if he did not dislodge himself soon enough. 

Applause erupted and Laurent was vaguely aware of his brother announcing the dances opened. More couples joined on the dance floor as the music began again. He had to get away from the crowd before anyone noticed his soft panting. Damen’s voice behind him sounded confused, “Laurent?”

“I must go and bid you a good night. I will see you tomorrow at the stables.”

“Tomorrow.” Was all Damen had time to say before Laurent stepped through the parting crowd towards the relative privacy of the corridor.

—

Councillor Chelaut watched the Omega princeling dance with the Akielon through narrowed eyes. Remaining in the back of the crowd, he was able to take in the room. Unlike his other colleagues, he was more careful in his manoeuvrings after what happened to Guion and Audin. Now Jeurre’s position was also threatened and it was all because of Laurent. Soon the Council would be unrecognisable with bills littering his desk outlining reforms about the Pet system or allowing Omegas to inherit positions of power. 

An Omega as their Crown Prince? He could not abide the thought. Laurent was supposed to be safely married off for the good of Vere and yet Auguste’s soft spot for his brother was complicating matters unnecessarily. Did no one else see that the boy was more dangerous than he seemed? A heavenly face hid a cunning mind. Part of Chelaut could appreciate such intelligence but not at his expense and even less from someone who could not be bribed or bought. 

“You’re in a foul mood tonight, Councillor.” Remarked a silky voice to Chelaut’s left.

Upon turning, he was face to face with Guion’s youngest boy. “Aimeric, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I thought someone ought to tell you that you stand out amidst the revelry. It would not do to be anything less than thrilled over our new king’s ascension.” The young Beta was striking in his own right. Some would say easily as attractive as their Omega prince. 

“What an absurd insinuation. King Auguste comes to his throne at the height of his popularity.”

“Indeed.” Aimeric appeared to watch the crowds himself, “Then it is the Jewel you are displeased about.” He guessed softly, “I understand your frustration Councillor, he has too much influence and thinks himself above us.”

“A shocking statement coming from his companion.” He might pretend otherwise but Chelaut was intrigued. If Aimeric had his own frustrations then perhaps he could be useful. “Of course, I wish him nothing but happiness with a worthy Alpha.”

“Naturally, we are in agreement.”

The Councillor weighed his options as he leaned away from the boy to misdirect any onlookers. “Sometimes Omegas are skittish over mating. I am told they require a nudge.”

“Hmm,” Aimeric made a show of looking away, “A nudge where?”

“Kempt, I should think.”

“Rekindle the old alliance before the treaty expires?” 

Yes, that was Vere’s best chance at defence. The Akielons could not be trusted. No doubt the Duke would be amenable with some persuasion, “At the right time, of course.”

“Two weeks. That is if you can find an excuse to keep him around that long.”

Chelaut allowed a small tug of his mouth, “Dear boy, such a task is child’s play.” Perhaps Guion’s boy was more like his father than he thought. With a brief dip of his chin, Aimeric shot him a knowing glance before moving away.

—

Laurent could finally retire to his apartments and quiet his pulse. For such a large man, Damianos held his waist with such gentle care as they danced. He could not stop thinking about how the barbarian’s biceps barely needed to flex as he was held aloft. 

He began to unlace himself out of his clothing and try to think of anything other than the warm honey in Damen’s eyes. Even his scent had surprised Laurent. Normally he loathed Alpha pheromones and yet Damen emitted such a comforting scent. Charmed admiration and gentle hope, all peeking through a haze of an ocean breeze. If Laurent was half as practised in self control, he would have bared his neck in submission there and then. Likely that was what half of Ios did whenever their stunningly handsome prince walked by.

No longer able to stand it, he roughly tugged at his laces until he was left in only his undershirt. Desire coursed through Laurent when his fingers reached between his legs and under his cock to feel the Akielon’s effect on his body. Slick flowed out of him and for the first time in his life, he touched himself with a clear face in mind.

In his mind’s eye, Damen fought his way into Laurent’s chambers to claim him there and then. ‘He could probably tear apart my collar with his bare hands’, Laurent’s brain supplied unhelpfully. Low moans tore through his closed lips when he imagined Damen’s mouth on his neck. Would he be taken on hands and knees, presenting like the Omega bitch half his court fantasied about? Or would the Alpha hold him up and plunge into him in a lustful imitation of their dance? 

With nothing more than a chiton, Damen need only lift his hem to knot his Omega. Laurent’s fingers were not enough to imagine what the sensation could be like. All he knew at that moment was that he was consumed with want. Frustrated grunts replaced moans when his body refused to be satisfied with only his fingers. His body now craved an Alpha’s knot like he never thought possible. 

He laid on his bed steadying his breathing until clarity returned. Spending time with Damen was dangerous, especially so close to his next heat. During such times, Laurent cursed his baser urges and progressed into wishing them erased.

A knock at his door broke his train of thought, “Your highness, I bring the key from the king.” Jord’s voice sounded through.

“Just a moment!” Shooting out of bed, Laurent threw on a dressing gown and washed off his hands He was quick to light incense to mask the unmistakable sweet musk of his slick before moving away from his bed.

“Come in.” Laurent turned to receive the key from the Captain’s hand, “Thank you Jord.”

The maiden collar was unlocked with a familiar click and Laurent savoured the air that cooled his neck. 

“His majesty extends his usual invitation for breakfast.” Jord informed him.

Laurent didn’t waste time to hand back the key so it could be returned to its keeper. “Tell him that I will be awake early for a morning ride with Damianos Exalted. I dare say he will be having a lie in but I shall join him for lunch. If you could pass along word to the kitchens that I will require a packed breakfast in the morning, I would be much obliged.”

A nod, “Will that be all, your highness?”

“Yes. No, wait. Who is on duty tomorrow morning?”

Jord carefully stowed away the key, “Lazar and Enguerran.”

“I see, then I best await your return in the morning for the key again if it is not too much trouble. I’m afraid your rest will be cut short.” 

With a bow that was nothing short of devoted, Jord met his prince’s eyes earnestly, “It is my greatest honour to guard your collar’s key, your highness.” 

Such sincerity moved Laurent enough to feel the need to look away so he occupied his hands by tightening his robe around him, “I am grateful for your service, Jord. If I may ask, hypothetically speaking, would you come with me as my guard if I were to marry?”

“To Akielos, your highness?” Jord asked guilelessly, seeking only clarification.

Laurent could only sigh, “Am I so transparent?”

“Only to those who know you. To answer your question, I would consider it a privilege to continue to protect you regardless of where your path leads you.” For once, Jord allowed himself to show emotion and smiled.

“I admit that brings me comfort. We will speak more of it when if there a development but first we must discuss the guard rotation for my upcoming heat. Pascal is confident that it is due in two weeks.” The physician was rarely wrong about such things and possessed uncanny accuracy on Laurent’s heats. 

“I will have the finalised schedule on your desk tomorrow afternoon, your highness.”

“Thank you Jord, that will be all.”

With a bow, the Captain left Laurent alone with his thoughts

Auguste had changed after witnessing the tail end of the spar. Open smiles had been replaced by an alien tension. Since Marlas, Damen had considered Auguste to be among his closest friends. They had met over the years during diplomatic errands and grew closer the longer they spent together. Sparring, drinking, laughing and freely discussing conquests. 

Now the pair of them awkwardly sipped at wine neither of them wanted to drink in order to avoid speaking. The moon remained high in the sky, as if taunting them to break their silence.

“So, he has accepted your suit.” Began Auguste in a tone that suggested he was doing his best to control himself.

“Yes.” Damen set down his wine and wondered when it had gotten so cold inside the king’s parlour. 

“Hmm.” It would be a lie to say he hadn’t expected it. Auguste had known that the Akielon prince was the only suitor that his brother ever actually considered. Every other prospect had been mercilessly rejected without a care.

“Auguste, I swear to you that my intentions are entirely honourable.”

“I would not have offered you wine if I believed otherwise, Damianos.”

Damen winced. It had been years since Auguste used his formal name and it struck him as he had been slapped. He remained silent for the moment, instead watching the warring emotions on Auguste’s face. They were no longer on equal footing. As a king, Auguste now out-ranked Damen.

“It is difficult for Laurent to get close to anyone. He was timid as a boy and always wary of strangers. There have been others in your heart yet you would be the only one in his. You are a good man, old friend. But you best be beyond doubt if you wish to continue courting Laurent. I know I said that you had my blessing but after seeing how he looked at you-. If you harbour any reservations at all, it is kinder to end things with him now.”

At least Auguste was not rescinding his blessing. Tension melted off Damen’s shoulders and he leaned closer to take in his friend’s concern. “I have no reservations. If Laurent honours me with safeguarding his heart then I would die to protect it. While true that I have loved before, it has never felt like this. Every moment with him feels like a gift to be treasured.”

Exhaling defeat, Auguste patted Damen’s back with a solemn nod, “I believe you. Of course if you ever make him cry, I don’t care if it means war because I will kill you.” It was unnerving how he managed to say it with a smile as he gripped Damen by the shoulder.

All Damen could do but laugh nervously. “That will not be necessary.”

“Of course not.” Auguste echoed the laugh. They both lifted their goblets to their lips as the tension between them persisted.

—

“How was it?”

Ignoring Aimeric’s prodding, Laurent dipped his pen into the ink well before carrying on with his writing. He was revising a bill proposal for Auguste and did not wish to be disturbed. Of course his friend didn’t care for that as he lounged on the bed, looking very much like a grumpy pet cat rather than a courtier. 

“Laurent, don’t be so stingy.”

“I am reserved, there is a difference.” Explained the Omega irritably and consulted a passage in the open tome on his desk before returning to his writing.

With a huff, Aimeric stood up to walk over to the prince at his desk. He wrinkled his nose when he saw the topic. “Tax reform? Could you be any more boring? You managed to get the most impressive Alpha on the continent to court you and instead of giving me details, you’re revising a bill on tax reform?”

“Aims,” Laurent began with as much patience as he could muster before pushing his friend away from his work, “Are you here to be a nuisance or did you want something?”

Crossing his arms, the Beta courtier leaned against the edge of the desk, “You’re more tight lipped than Jord. I told you about that time with the knight!”

“Without prompting, as I recall. In vivid detail, if I might add.”

“Come now. Just tell me if he’s a good kisser and then I’ll stop.”

Laurent set down his pen with a sigh of defeat. He would get no peace until he gave his friend some details, “He was-.” Fighting back a flush, he searched for the right word, “-adequate.”

“Gods, that good?” Aimeric gasped, knowing that coming from Laurent that was a glowing review.

Memories of the past week flooded Laurent’s mind unbidden. He had made every effort to suppress his mind from thinking about the stolen moments around the palace over the previous week with Damen. The very same evening after their first kiss in the maze, they had sat down to a smaller dinner with only the foreign delegations. While in animated conversation with Prince Torveld, Laurent had allowed his foot to caress Damen’s leg under the table. He enjoyed watching Damen pretend all was well in front of Princess Zelenka to much amusement.

The next morning, Damen had caught Laurent in the stables before his morning ride. They had been merely chatting until Lazar’s attention was redirected elsewhere, namely Pallas. Damen then seized the opportunity to steal a kiss. It had been quick but enough to alight Laurent’s cheeks. 

When Laurent had worn the sky blue cloak Damen had made for him as a courting gift, he knew he’d get a reaction. What he hadn’t expected was for the poor Akielon to walk face first into a column for failing to watch where he was walking. Laurent had smiled when he saw the exasperation on the face of the Kyros of Delfleur. 

“Let us simply say that his reputation is not fabricated.” Laurent shrugged, enjoying how desperate Aimeric’s face looked to know more.

“They say he’s insatiable. Are you sure you can keep up with him? You are not exactly the type to accept a suitor with a harem.”

Aimeric acted out like this when he was bored. The only reason Laurent put up with his moods was due to the many years they spent together as companions. Their friendship had not always been easy. At first the other young man hated him. After all, Laurent had been saved from a terrible fate while Aimeric had been given to it.

Refusing to react, Laurent glanced up to his friend impassively, “He is a virile young Alpha, of course he has a harem. That will change if I decide to become his mate.”

“You intend to mark him in return then? Well, he might let you.” Aimeric admitted begrudgingly, “Maybe he’s waiting for the right Omega to come along. He hasn’t marked the slave he brought with him so it is possible he is saving a mating bite for marriage. I admit that is more admirable than one can expect from an Alpha of his rank.”

A slave. How had his household overlooked such a detail? Laurent had known that Damianos travelled with his own household but he hadn’t realised that included a slave. Of course he wasn’t about to show Aimeric that his proverbial feathers had been ruffled so he returned his attention to his bill. “There, I have told you enough. Isn’t it about time you go walk past Jord’s office hoping he’ll notice you?”

Aimeric held up his hands in nonverbal apology. “Alright, I see I have struck a nerve. Just so you know, he has already noticed me.”

“That is one tryst I don’t need the details to.” Laurent reached up to massage the side of his temple. With a responding smirk, Aimeric left him to his thoughts.

Once the door shut behind the Beta courtier, Laurent made every effort to return to work but now all he could think about was Damen’s slave. Aimeric mentioned the slave was unmarked which meant they were an Omega. The thought of Damen sinking into an eager Omega slave made his stomach tighten. It wasn’t necessarily jealousy. Or at least not just jealousy. Laurent could not connect the Alpha he had always respected to the picture Aimeric had painted of him. 

Akielos still clung to slavery, as did Patras. Was it really so surprising?

Until then, Laurent had thought of Damen as a separate entity to Akielon laws. An individual who was not represented by the archaic laws of his country and instead a kindred spirit like Laurent seeking a better future. A groan escaped him and it was far too close to his heat for him to be feeling so anxious. 

There was a knock on his door, before Enguerran’s voice followed “Your highness, it is time for your stroll with Princess Tamara.”

—

Princess Tamara proved to be good company during her stay in Vere. Laurent found his future sister-in-law to be highly observant and possessing the sort of sharp wit that he was sure Auguste would enjoy in his Queen. As a result the Omegas had become fast friends. They strolled through the gardens at a leisurely pace and she had a remark for every courtier they passed by, which cheered up Laurent after overthinking the matter of Damen’s Omega slave.

“Lord Dubois is looking dour this afternoon. His face is so tense that it makes me suspect he is passing gas.” Tamara’s calm timbre made the quip all that more entertaining.

Laurent even felt himself smirk, “That is the expression he uses when he trying to remember the poem about my beauty he paid someone to write for him.”

“Oh, he just looked your way. Come quickly, I see your glorious Akielon by the fountain. He will surely rescue us from an unpleasant poetry reading.” A dainty arm looped into the crook of his elbow to lead him away so they could pretend they had not seen Lord Dubois.

“He is not my Akielon, Tamara.”

“Is he not?” She asked innocently, “Then why does your face brighten every time you see him? Come now, I am no fool. It is well known you have allowed him to win a kiss from you and have hardly glanced twice at anyone else.”

Laurent took a sharp turn to avoid running into Damianos. He wasn’t ready to face the Alpha with his doubts still simmering just yet. Instead they walked towards the roses that were all in full bloom. “While true, it is not as simple as everyone expects.”

“What a silly notion, Laurent. He is clearly as besotted with you as you are with him. How many courting gifts have you received so far?”

Fighting off an impending blush, Laurent thought back on the sky blue cloak made from Veretian cotton that he had been presented to him on the day they kissed in the maze. “Only one. The courtship will take time. It took Auguste years to get around to marrying you, didn’t he?”

“Ah, that was at my request.” Tamara confessed and the tables were turned as her cheeks pinked, “There was still so much I wanted to learn before becoming Queen. I was afraid I would become pregnant right after my wedding night and then all I would ever be is a mother. I wanted more.”

“I did not know that.” The confession surprised Laurent, “He did not tell me that he delayed things for your sake.”

“He agreed to keep my secret from my family. They wished for me to marry sooner, of course, but I wanted more time just to be myself at home.”

“Do you think you could love him?”

The smile on Tamara’s face was warmer than a summer’s day, “I already do. So many Alphas think themselves the masters of their Omegas and I was afraid that I would lose myself as someone’s mate. Auguste wishes for a partner, someone to share in his burdens and he has already proven himself to be trustworthy if he has not shared my secret with his precious little brother.”

“I feared the same.” Laurent admitted, “Until I presented, I believed myself to be a Beta and so I dreamed accordingly. All I wanted was to study all I could to support Auguste on the Council. After Marlas, my future began to look very different. My brother only wishes for me to be happy and he would not push a betrothal. But I am still a Prince of Vere and I know my duty.”

Delicate fingers tapped at his shoulder and a sigh passed by his ear, “There is power in what we are, Laurent. Alphas might rule nations but we birth them. Right now you have every suitor at your mercy. I think perhaps you are afraid that the best match for Vere might also be the best match for your heart. If your duty is also what you desire, then what use was all that progress for?”

“Every Veretian Omega looks to me as their example.” The weight of that burden was ever present in his mind, “They see how much I can accomplish and if all that stops with my marriage then-. It means more if it comes from me than if Auguste does it himself.”

Tamara glanced back to the fountain and caught the Akielon prince looking over. Though he had turned away with embarrassment, she had seen the longing in the tightness of his jaw, “Have you shared these thoughts with Damianos?”

“I have not.” Laurent looked up and followed her gaze. A knot formed in his throat when he saw Damen’s shoulders hunched over the fountain in thought. It was odd to see him alone without Nikandros.

“Talk to him, he may surprise you.” Encouraged the Patran princess with a gentle smile.

“I already know what he would say. He is just like Auguste in character. Honest, kind and honourable. Damen would wait for me if I asked him.” That’s right, Laurent shouldn’t doubt Damen’s honour. He should not doubt it regarding the Omega slave either.

“Then what is the problem?”

A blush bloomed on his face when his voice lowered, “I do not think that I can wait as long as we must.”

“Oh?” Tamara’s lovely face went through an array of emotions then. Confusion morphed into deep thought, then shock and finally understanding, “Oh!”

“Indeed.” Laurent had to give her credit, Tamara was sharp.

“You worry you will seek him out during your heat.” She whispered with a wicked grin, “Would that be so bad? He could help you through it.”

“Are you mad? Auguste would castrate him.”

The Princess giggled and leaned in closer, “Take care, Laurent. It is best to keep your distance from your gorgeous Alpha lest he triggers your heat early and then you his rut in turn.”

His own voice had also lowered considerably, “I worry I am imprinting.”

“How is that possible? That is rare, exceedingly so. Laurent, you have to tell Auguste. If you finish imprinting before you’re mated then your heats-!”

“I know.” He sounded harsher than he had meant to and it silenced Tamara. Taking pity on her concerned expression, he sighed, “I don’t understand it myself. Damen is the only Alpha whose pheromones I haven’t detested but that can’t be the only reason why this is happening.”

“There is a scholar at the library of Bazal who specialises in studying such things. It shall not be long until you come to Patras for the wedding and I am certain that my uncle can help arrange a meeting. The accounts I have read on Omegas in heat who imprint before a mating are harrowing.”

“I have read such accounts.” Laurent had gone through every volume at the Arlesian library hoping for an answer. All he found were either fairy stories or physician observations on widowed Omegas who are unable to unravel imprints to their deceased mates. Neither helped him understand why his body only responded to Damen. Every touch shared between them stirred his senses. 

“Please listen to me, Laurent. You are to be my brother and I already feel like your sister so I say this with affection; talk to Auguste.” Tamara grasped his hand with both of her own, the gesture reminded him of his mother.

“I will consider it but you must say nothing.” He had hoped he was wrong but it was important to be prepared regardless. For the time being, it was best to keep his distance from Damen until after his heat.

“You have my word.” Tamara promised fiercely. Just then Laurent thought that she was a good match for Auguste. They would do well together.

—

Statecraft left Auguste feeling stretched thin. He’d much rather be out riding or fencing but instead he was in his study going over petitions that the Council had been loathe to show him. His people requested all sorts of things, most of which were frivolous nonsense such as more national holidays or reducing the price of beer as if he himself decided such things. One Lord had petitioned him to annul his son’s marriage to a paramour. 

Only a select few held any merit. For example, there was a small village outside of Arles who petitioned their King for safer roads as bandits had plagued the region of late. That was something he planned to bring to the Council first thing in the morning, for example.

What he was outright ignoring for the moment was the stack of marriage offers for Laurent. His newly appointed secretary, Sebastian, had gone through his correspondence to separate them. The thickness of the stack brought an irritated twitch to Auguste’s left eye. 

“Your majesty, Prince Laurent is here to see you.” Sebastian informed Auguste after a knock on his door. 

“Oh thank the Gods, send him in.”

Laurent stepped in after a polite nod to Sebastian and took in the piles of assorted paperwork on his brother’s desk, “Since when did it get this bad?”

“Laurie, you are a sight for sore eyes! Take a seat, I need your help getting through all of this. How is that bill proposal coming along by the way?” Auguste felt the tension melt off his shoulders the moment he saw his brother pick up a petition.

“Nearly finished, though you’ll have to present yourself next week when I’m in confinement for my heat.” Laurent blinked as he re-read the petition, “Seems a Monsieur Arnaud petitions you to send a doctor for his sick goat.”

“Ignore that one. I’ll hand that off to Sebastian to deal with, along with the others that don’t require my personal attention.” He took in his brother’s slight fidgeting and frowned, “Are you unwell?”

“Not at all, I simply had something to talk to you about if you can spare the time. I don’t wish to distract you from your very important duty on helping our great country’s farmers heal their goats.” Laurent’s ever sharp attention fell onto the pile of marriage offers and perused them with knitted brows.

“You tease but this is also part of being King. Father ignored these petitions and I wish to rule differently. It is important to know what troubles them so that I will best know which policies need updating. As it happens your ideas on tax reform should be popular. Just today, I have read a handful of complaints on high taxes. Anyway, what did you want to talk to me about?” Auguste made a note on a piece of parchment on which topics to prioritise.

“Gus, what is this?”

The king looked up and shot his brother a wry grin, “What does it look like? I told you about the offers pouring in, did I not?”

“I thought you were embellishing.”

“As you can see, I was not.”

Laurent fell silent as he read over the offers, each one higher than the last. “Gus, these offers are-.”

“Excessive? Normally I would be inclined to agree but given my high opinion of you, I cannot bring myself to. Before you start, rest assured I told them all that their offers mean nothing without your favour. Poor Lord Dubois was at a loss, you know. He hadn’t the first idea on how to do that. Vannes was there and recommended to him a book on courtship.” Auguste chuckled as he remembered the Lord’s face.

The humour was lost on Laurent however who was oddly contemplative, “Kempt offers half a duchy, an ironclad alliance, open borders and a protection agreement if Vere is attacked.”

Finally understanding what was going on in his brother’s mind, Auguste reached out to reclaim the stack of marriage offers. Once those were safely set aside, he took Laurent’s hand and gave it a fatherly pat. The kind Aleron had not been known to give, “Laurie, I wasn’t keeping this from you. I just know how your mind works and did not wish for you to make your decision based on what Vere would gain from an offer.”

“What has Akielos offered?”

“Laurie-.” Auguste began as carefully as he could only to be cut off.

“Tell me.”

“Akielos has not made a formal offer yet.” When Laurent pulled away, Auguste stood up to reach back out. Only his brother was already out of reach, “That means nothing save that Damianos cares enough for you to wait to know your heart.”

Knowing that Akielos was the only territory that held off on making a formal offer despite Damen beginning his courtship made Laurent’s heart flutter. It made him feel like a person, not just an Omega. 

“Just promise me something, Laurie.” Auguste had walked over to give Laurent’s hair an affectionate ruffle, “Do not rush to make your choice. Forget what the Council wants. Forget what father wanted. Take the time you need to figure out your feelings.”

“I promise,” Laurent sniffed when he hugged his brother. No matter what happened, he knew he could rely on Auguste. 

“That is all I ask. Now then, will you please give me a hand with all of this?” Whined the King in a tone he wouldn’t dare use in the presence of anyone else.

Snorting, Laurent went to take a seat and look over another petition, “You might need another secretary if I get married. Or you could always have Tamara help you, she’s clever.”

“High praise coming from you. Still, even in hypothetical, can we cease with the marriage talk? Though that reminds me that I have to approve some wedding details for Tamara tomorrow.” Auguste began to rummage through his desk trying to find the fabric sample booklet he was sent. When Aleron had occupied this study, his desk had been immaculate but he rarely if ever paid attention to his more humble citizens. It warmed Laurent to watch Auguste fret over small details that kings usually delegated.

— (TW)

Despite Auguste’s encouragement, Laurent couldn’t get the marriage offers out of his mind. In a way his father had been right. Marriage would certainly be an effective way to help Vere and by extension, Auguste. He couldn’t help it, he wanted the best for his people and who was to say that a good match wasn’t the way to do just that?

The next day, he found himself accepting a luncheon invitation from Duke Frederick. He wore his circlet with a burgundy doublet. Recent spring rains had cooled down the temperatures outside.

“Are you sure about this, your highness?” Lazar asked uncertainly while escorting the prince to the Duke’s chambers. Luncheon would be served out on the balcony.

“No harm in giving the Duke a chance, is there?”

“Don’t get me wrong, the Duke is easy on the eyes. I just thought you liked Damen.”

Laurent raised a brow at his guard, “Since when do you call the heir to the Akielon throne by his small name?”

“Since he asked me to. He’s a good man, you know.” Lazar shrugged, “Pallas talks him up all the time. You can tell a lot about someone on account of how their men talk about them.”

“Somehow it does not surprise me in the slightest. Anyway, we’re almost there. Try not to flirt with the Duke’s guards.”

“Don’t worry, your highness. I got a handsome Akielon in my bed tonight who can kill me with his thighs.” Proclaimed the guard proudly.

With a sigh, Laurent nodded for the Duke’s guards to announce him. The guest chambers given to the Duke were sumptuously decorated by Hennike herself. It was a gesture that had been well received. A generous spread had been laid out on the expansive balcony that was drenched in sunshine. Fresh air circulated the rooms and Laurent was relieved that he wouldn’t have to suffer through unpleasant pheromones in an enclosed space.

Though as Frederick rushed over to greet him by kissing Laurent’s knuckles, the scent was not repulsive as had been expected. It was not attractive or tantalising like Damen’s but Laurent found the Duke’s scent to be almost pleasant. Not unlike the crisp air of winter. “Your highness, I am pleased you accepted my invitation. I have been longing to speak with you in a more relaxed setting and the Councillors spoke ever so highly of your accomplishments.”

“Have they indeed.” Laurent wondered which ones had been chatting up the Duke, “I admit I have been wanting to hear more about my mother’s homeland if you will indulge me?”

Brightening up at the suggestion, Frederick offered his arm with the intent to lead Laurent to his seat. “It would be my pleasure. Queen Hennike was very dear to Kempt. Your grandfather still mourns her loss. Having met you, I can now report to him that you have indeed grown up in her likeness.”

“My father had a fondness for mentioning my resemblance to her.” Laurent took the arm mostly to be polite. He had to remind himself that he was at least getting to know the Duke a little better before making his decision. “Grandfather writes to me from time to time still.” 

In truth, King Gustav had stopped his letters during the war with Akielos. It was only after news of Laurent’s presentation that he had begun to write again.

“It would please him greatly if you were to visit Kempt. I could arrange it for you if you wish, your highness.” A kind enough offer.

Laurent took a seat and noticed a decanter of wine on the table alongside several of his favourite dishes. Someone had done their homework. “I would not be opposed. Seeing where my mother grew up has always been a desire of mine. Of course convincing the Council to allow me to make the trip might be challenging.”

“Perhaps I might be of service in that regard?” Frederick was almost too eager in his offer.

“Have you become better acquainted with the Veretian Council during your stay?” Playing up a timid tone, Laurent ran a hand through his hair and caught Frederick watching his movements. Sometimes Alphas made it far too easy.

“Councillor Jeurre sought me out to discuss renewing the old alliance. I am here helping represent the King, after all. It is a matter of great importance to Kempt.” As predicted, the Duke was forthcoming when it came to himself. He gestured to the plates, “Please, your highness, help yourself. I have requested your kitchens to send dishes you are partial to.”

“How thoughtful of you.” Feeling somewhat cautious, Laurent ate slowly and would only touch a dish after Frederick himself ate the same item. He pointedly avoided the wine and instead asked the servant attending them to bring him water. Once served, it quickly became obvious that they had been left alone in the rooms.

“Is the wine not to your liking, your highness?”

“I am not fond of wine but do not deny yourself on my account.” As soon as he said it, Frederick sampled the wine and found it agreeable enough to carry on with.

“You are more demure than I expected. I must admit that I find it pleasing and worried your rank as Crown Prince would influence your behaviour. Omegas should have modest virtues and I can see you set a fine example for the court.”

“You flatter me.” Laurent managed a shy smile while simultaneously wondering if he ought to stab the Duke with his fork to show him how demure he truly was.

Frederick’s smile took on a predatory edge that placed every one of Laurent’s senses on high alert, “I should like to do a great deal more than flatter you.” 

“Is that why you offered such a high price for my hand?” Tiring of the charade, Laurent met the Duke’s gaze with a defiant tensing of his jaw.

“I see the rumours are correct, Auguste truly does spoil you too much if he told you. Once we are mated there will be no more of that. You will be celebrated, of course. The Jewel of Vere returning to his mother’s home, reaffirming your title of Peace Bringer when you rekindle the old alliance at our wedding.”

The day grew warmer and Laurent tugged at his doublet, feeling himself begin to sweat. “You speak as if it is a certainty.”

“It would be better to accept it as such.” Frederick told him gently, like a parent would to a child. “Do not worry, I will be good to you. My estate can provide you all the comforts you are used to and you will have all the help you need to raise our children. If you prove to be obedient then I will even bring you to Arles to see your brother from time to time.”

The longer the Duke spoke, the hotter Laurent’s skin became. As if an inner fire sought to burn away the crawling feeling that would not leave him in peace. He was caught between wanting to rip away the fabric that made him itch and cover up completely to stop feeling so exposed. “You are a fool if you think I would ever accept your suit now, cousin. I thought to give you a chance to court me as a gentleman but now I see that was never your intention. So who is the mastermind behind this little scheme of yours? It is far too Veretian for you alone to be responsible. The plan was to trigger my heat early and mark me, wasn’t it? It is true that not even Auguste could come between a mated pair. However, I doubt an Alpha of your limited talents could manage to think of lacing my food with, let’s see, chalis?”

“Hakesh, actually.” Frederick smiled as if completely unconcerned and even managed a sympathetic tilt of his head, “Taking even a small amount so close to your heat will accelerate the natural process. Really this is on you, my darling. If you had remained out of Council affairs then you would not be in this position. Now look at you, already releasing the most delectable scent and will soon be begging for me to take you. Rest assured I will be gentle. With time I will teach you to want me.”

“You will regret this-.” Standing up on unsteady legs, Laurent left the balcony and stumbled on his way to the door. The hakesh was forcing his heat to strike at him at full force. Normally he would be in pre-heat for nearly a day beforehand but going through all his symptoms within a span of minutes was weakening him faster than he could have predicted. Soon he was on his hands and knees crawling. “Lazar.” Even raising his voice was a struggle. A fever began to cloud his vision and his mind.

He had felt like this once before. A memory long buried. The hands that touched him now were cold as they were then. The voice was different, at least. Though that was not a comfort, “I will take care of you, Laurent. I promise. As your Alpha, you will never be left wanting.”

Distantly Laurent was aware that his doublet was being unlaced. A key matching the shape of the one Auguste carried was produced but the familiar click did not follow. Mad with fever, Laurent was laughing. The maiden collar remain securely locked and regardless of what happened next, Frederick would never seal Laurent to him. Sure enough, the Alpha began to panic.

A royal Omega had gone into heat in his chambers and he could not mark him. Laurent laid helpless in Frederick’s arms, his body hot and beginning to produce slick unbidden. Forbidden fruit tempting him to claim and yet denied.

The key the Duke had been given was a fake. 

“Your plan has failed. Call my guard while you still have honour left.” Laurent took hold of Frederick’s collar and spat out his words with the strength that remained. It was with his last remnants of lucidity that he knew Lazar had stormed in alongside Jord and Aimeric before succumbing to his heat.

Three things Laurent knew to be true even in his haze. The first was that he was back in his own chambers due to the familiarity of the scents. The second was that nothing he did soothed the inner burn threatening to consume him. The third was that he cried out for Damen despite himself.

Never before had his heats struck him with such ravenous intensity. Just a small serving of hakesh brought him to a state of agonising desperation. This was, of course, what the Duke had wanted. In theory the plan ought to have worked like a charm. Unlock the maiden collar and reclaim Hennike’s blood back to Kempt. Under different circumstances, Laurent would have begged Frederick to knot him. Anything to soothe the white hot pain ripping through him. 

Neither Auguste or the Council could have come between them if the Duke had succeeded. A freshly mated Omega could not remain far from their Alpha, needing their mate’s pheromones to comfort them during the vulnerable stage after a claiming. The pheromone induced honeymoon phase all but guaranteed the bond to succeed as well as a pregnancy to take.

Fortunately, circumstances were not different and that meant that Laurent’s thirst for Damen persisted like an ever growing need. It was with maddening certainty that Laurent realised he would have refused Frederick even in his fevered state. The thought gave him some comfort as he whimpered softly into his pillow.

His nest was incomplete given how suddenly the hakesh struck him and even laying upon the softest of pillows with the finest of sheets, he felt wrong. 

Laurent hadn’t realised he was crying until warm hands gently brushed them away. The scent of his brother and protector that had soothed him during so many heats no longer helped as it once did. 

“Laurie, I’m here.”

“Damen.”

“No, it’s Gus.”

Laurent shook his head deliriously, too addled to focus his thoughts. All he could do is cry out the name of his Alpha, “Damen.”

“He can’t come in here Laurie but Pascal can give you something to sleep.”

“No, I want Damen.”

It must have pained Auguste to see him this way. Weak, covered in sweat and pining for someone he couldn’t have. Worse, Laurent began to plead through his tears, “Please, please.” His hair was smoothed out and the sweat on his brow wiped away before he knew Auguste left the room. 

—

When the King of Vere emerged from his brother’s chambers, his expression had transformed from concern to cold rage. A small group had congregated just outside the doors. It was Laurent’s inner circle which included his most trusted guards, courtiers and physician.

He scanned the anxious faces until his attention fell onto Pascal, “What is wrong with him?”

The physician hesitated, looking at the rest of the group warily. He waited for Auguste to lead him out of earshot before replying, “Your majesty, his highness has ingested hakesh and is displaying symptoms of an imprinting heat. If it is as I suspect then only the pheromones of the imprinted Alpha will ease his symptoms. I can give him poppy milk to relieve the discomfort enough for him to sleep but I am afraid this is only the beginning.”

“What do you mean ‘imprinting heat’? There was no mating bite, I unlocked his collar myself. Did someone have their way with him?”

“No your majesty, but we must consider the possibility that Prince Laurent has imprinted upon an Alpha before a mating. A rare phenomenon, some believe it means fate has intervened. I have heard of only one other case in Patras of a virgin Omega suffering through an imprinting heat. Normally this occurs during the bonding phase.” Pascal explained carefully.

Auguste visibly eased some of the tension in his shoulders when he was reassured that Laurent had not been violated. “How long will this heat last?”

“Given how quickly the fever has gripped him, it could vary but five days give or take.”

“See to his comfort as best you can.” He turned to move on to the next issue to solve when Pascal cleared his throat.

“I beg your pardon, your majesty. But the pain he is feeling will only intensify day by day until his imprinted Alpha can soothe him with his pheromones. They need not mate.” The physician added quickly when he took note of his king’s expression. “An item his Alpha has scented would help but it would be best if he could sit with his highness as you normally do.”

Grinding his teeth, Auguste took a deep breath and inclined his head into a nod, “I will make arrangements. For now, help him sleep.”

Bowing to affirm his obedience, Pascal then stepped quickly to check in on his Omega patient. The next target of Auguste’s ire were his guards, “I need someone to tell me everything that happened. Now.”

Jord stepped forward with a stiff bow. It was his duty to take responsibility as Captain. “Your majesty, I have failed you-.”

Someone else had moved to stand in front of Jord. Holding out a letter, Aimeric kept his head bowed, “Your majesty, this is from Laurent. He wanted you to read this in case something of this nature happened.”

Auguste grabbed the letter with a curl to his nose. Inspecting the seal, he knew it was not forged. There was no doubt that this letter was penned in his brother’s own hand. In typical Laurent fashion, the letter raised more questions than it answered:

‘Gus,

If you are reading this then I am incapacitated and what I have long suspected has come to pass. I was not sure which suitor would be used so that will be left for Aimeric to tell you. Before you investigate anything, know that he was acting under my orders. Hold the guilty suitor under house arrest and keep a close eye on Councillors Jeurre and Chelaut. Wait for my heat to end before passing judgement.

Laurie’

The letter was crumpled in Auguste’s fist, “Who did this to him?”

“That would be Duke Frederick, your majesty.” Lazar offered meekly, choosing to spare Aimeric from being singled out.

“Keep him under house arrest in his rooms and throw his household into a cell. Jord, I want eyes on Jeurre and Chelaut at all times. I want to know every time they so much as sneeze. Aimeric, since you have made yourself useful it will be your job to draft a letter to King Gustav with Sebastian for my review by the end of the day. I want the Duke out of my kingdom as soon as possible and a guaranteed punishment from Kempt if they want to avoid me taking matters into my own hands and sending him back piece by piece. Make it clear that this courtesy is only extended in my mother’s memory. Finally, I want Damianos of Akielos in my chambers within the hour.” There was no need for Auguste to raise his voice. A true Dominant Alpha could command simply by entering a room. As expected, those present rushed to obey his commands. Only the assigned guards were left at the door.

“No one comes in or out without my permission, is that understood?”

“Yes, your majesty.” Enguerran and Orlant bowed in unison.

—

Nikandros had been ready to draw his sword when Damianos had been summoned by the Veretian King. Not invited, -summoned-. The only reason the Kyros had stayed his hand was that it appeared to be a matter of great urgency involving Laurent. Without hesitation, Damen moved through the halls with Pallas in tow. It had been Lazar who had been tasked in passing along the message and his usual good humour was gone. His brow was tightly knit and he did not even greet Pallas properly.

It was the second time Damen found himself in the King’s chambers in the span of a few days. He found Auguste speaking with Jord in low tones upon arrival. The scent in the room was heavy with territorial intent. Whatever it was that happened, it left the king feeling defensive.

With a final nod to Jord who was dismissed, Auguste settled a hard stare onto Damen. “I am grateful you rushed over. How much have you been told?”

“Only that the matter is urgent and it involves Laurent.” He wasn’t sure why just yet but something about the mood in the room had Damen on guard.

“You best sit down for this.”

He only sat on a nearby chair to avoid wasting time. The possibility of Laurent being in some kind of trouble was enough to make him readily comply. Auguste sat himself and shared what was necessary. Laurent’s suspicions regarding the Councillors were omitted until they had evidence but he was forthcoming about the rest. 

By the end of it, Damen was shaking with barely contained rage. Every fibre of his being called upon him to kill the offending Alpha who mistreated his Omega.

“Damen, I understand how you are feeling right now. Believe me, I can barely contain myself and want nothing more than to rip the Duke limb from limb. But there is a more pressing issue and the reason why I called you here.”

“Regardless, you can trust Akielos to support whatever action you take against this Duke.”

“We can discuss that later. It pains me to have to ask this of you but Laurent calls your name. My presence is not soothing him as it normally does. I remember you said you have no reservations?” Discomfort practically radiated off Auguste.

It wasn’t possible that Damen heard him correctly, “What exactly are you asking of me?”

“I ask that you give Laurent something of yours that you have scented. The physician believes it will soothe the pain he’s feeling. If it does not work, well, we will speak more of it later.”

There was no hesitation in Damen’s answer, “If it is within my power then he shall have whatever he needs, Auguste. I wish to help ease his suffering.”

“So be it. Prepare something of yours for him and then we wait to see if he needs more.” Auguste finally appeared to calm himself somewhat.

Damen had no choice but to agree to the terms and hurry to do his part for Laurent’s sake. 

—

Relief came in the form of a crimson cape that cocooned Laurent in his Alpha’s scent. He could feel the care and concern lingering in the pheromones soaking the fabric. A mere two weeks into their courtship and already Damen felt this protective over him? Barely cognisant of his actions, Laurent nuzzled against the fabric with a soft purr.

The hakesh took it’s time to burn through his system. Eventually falling into a fitful slumber, Laurent dreamed. With Damen’s scent so close he could almost feel the heat from the Akielon’s hands. He remembered that they were warm and tender. 

Pets at court kissed with performative aggression but Damen’s kiss in the lover’s maze had felt like adoration. Laurent hadn’t known it could be like that. Feel like that. With every cell in his body awakened in sensation. He argued with his own mind then. Previously he thought Damen would take him in a show of great prowess and strength. That was no longer the case. Would Damen kiss him everywhere with that same fervour?

Parting his legs beneath the shield of Damen’s crimson cape, Laurent slid a hand down and imagined tender touches. Yes, that would be how he would ask for it. 

At some point Laurent had made the conscious decision for Damen to be the first to touch him. There was something so alluring about such a strong and powerful Alpha lavishing him with soft love making. The thought along brought a shiver to course through Laurent as he touched himself to completion.

Of course, it was not enough. 

Gathering his strength, Laurent stood up on shaky legs and tugged the cape tighter around him. Surely Lazar would look the other way if Laurent sought out his Alpha. No one could possibly wish for him to suffer like this. Auguste would understand. As long as Damen did not mark him yet, no one would know. 

Confident that all would be well, he crept through the servant’s passage and sure enough Lazar had given him an encouraging wink. 

The journey through the passages was long and Laurent kept needing to stop to steady himself. Even walking was uncomfortable given how much slick was dribbling out of him in earnest. Finally he reached the door to the chambers where he knew Damen was staying in. A sumptuous suite recently redone in the Akielon style fit for a King, second only to Auguste’s own chambers. 

Damen smelled more delectable than ever and it only magnified in potency at the sight of a trembling Omega in need.

“Damen, please.”

“Laurent, you should not be here.” Yet he was already crossing the room to gather Laurent into his arms and take him to bed. It was not a nest but the sheets smelled of Damen and it soothed the ache within.

“I need you.” Three words and Damen’s doting lips were covering his flushed skin with adoring kisses.

Dry full bodied wine poured liberally into a goblet. Aged at least a decade and possessing a deep burgundy shade. It was indeed a shame that Nikandros couldn’t quite enjoy it. His prince was going on again about his Omega.

“It was perfect, Nik. He is perfect. To think that I would find my fated bondmate in Vere of all places!” Damen chuckled to himself as he laid leisurely on a chaise. Hands swung around in animated excitement. “It is enough to believe the Gods themselves intervened in Marlas. Do you think father will allow for a late summer wedding?”

“I am certain the King will approve of the union he already wished for nearly six years ago.” Nikandros assured with a sigh. “Now then, you see I was right.”

“You were.” Damen turned his head to smile at his friend. “Though you have yet to tell me about the Veretian paramour you’ve been canoodling with.”

“Canoodling? Damen, we are no longer 15.”

“You’re avoiding the question again. Won’t you tell me who has captured your attention?”

“Is that an order, Exalted?” Nikandros stiffened slightly.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I would never order you for such a thing. If you wish to keep your secret, then that is your choice Nik. You know that.” Damen had frowned and sat back up.

“Of course I do. She is just- I mean it is complicated. Believe me when I say it is best left a private matter.”

Damen grinned then, “Must be quite a woman to capture your attention, Nik.”

“You could say that.” Nikandros confirmed cryptically but shot his prince a small smile. “We must depart soon so it is best we both say our farewells. I have a feeling you will be pining over the separation before we reach the border.”

“I resent that remark.” Then after a moment of silence, “Actually I will probably miss him before we even leave Arles.”

Exhaling slowly, Nikandros shook his head and then came to a decision, “I will speak with the King about Prince Laurent’s fine qualities if it will help speed up your wedding. The sooner you are mated, the sooner I can convince you to take foreign relations seriously.”

“I take it very seriously, Nik!” Damen protested.

“I am sure it is easy to be serious about Veretian politics when the Prince is a pretty blonde Omega.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Nikandros shrugged, “You have a type, Damen.”

“Laurent is nothing like Jokaste, I will have you know. He is far more intelligent and sweet. He is fiercely loyal and he cares deeply about his people.” There was such a soft glow of adoration on Damen’s face that Nikandros was forced to concede. 

Perhaps Laurent was truly the best candidate to become Damen’s bondmate.

—

A single strand of grey hair appeared to mock Auguste even after he had yanked it out from his scalp. He risked a glance into his looking glass and frowned at his reflection. Dark circles framed his eyes that granted him a chilling edge to his expression. Well, at the very least it would have the intimidating effect he wished for.

To make matters worse, he had been unable to spend as much time with Tamara as he wished. Several courting gifts were sent to her as apologies for the cancelled luncheons and garden strolls. Auguste doubted, however, that silks and jewels would compensate for his absence. It couldn’t be helped. A crime had taken place inside his own palace. He had believed that no one would dare make a move against Laurent with him on the throne and yet here they were.

His ever faithful valet adjusted his doublet in order to make certain that was not a single wrinkle on the king’s garments. 

“I am finished, your majesty. May I assist you with anything else?”

“Thank you Louis, that will be all.”

Once Louis excused himself, Auguste closed the distance to the coffee service a servant had laid out for him. A steaming cup would give him the energy he needed to face the day. 

His brother’s heat had waned so quickly after he allowed Damen to sit in as he once did. Something about that gnawed at him. If the pair were truly imprinting prematurely then that meant that Laurent might leave home within the year. Auguste hated the thought of ruling without Laurent’s support. He hated the thought of him living so far away even more. 

What if something happened to him again? What if Damen couldn’t protect him like Auguste could?

Ah, but he had failed to protect Laurent from Frederick. Maybe he was no longer suited to be his Omega brother’s protector anymore. As a king soon to be married, his focus would be on Tamara. Once they were bonded as mates, it was only natural that such a shift would take place. In fact, it was part of why he was so eager to grant Tamara’s request to wait to be wed. It provided him the space to look after Laurent in ways he knew their father would not.

Grief had changed Aleron and not for the better. Hennike had steadied him and before he committed treason, Uncle had provided counsel. The sad truth was that their father had not been capable of providing for Laurent’s emotional needs.

“Your majesty?” Asked Jord uncertainly from the doorway. 

Auguste had not heard him enter his chambers but he did remember sending for him. It was also the usual time for the key exchange. “Come in Jord. How is my brother doing?”

The Captain stepped closer and took another bow, as if uncertain his first one went unnoticed and he was loathe to appear negligent of protocol. “His highness has made a full recovery and has confirmed he will join you for breakfast.”

Nodding, Auguste turned to look over his Captain’s demeanour. He was calmer than before Laurent started his heat. That was something. “Do you have good news for me?”

“Yes, your majesty. As you have requested I closely observed Prince Damianos during his visits. He has proven to be a doting candidate for his highness. Not once did he press his advantage and Prince Laurent was greatly cheered by his presence.”

“I see.” Objectively, it was indeed positive news. Not that Auguste ever truly believed Damen capable of the sort of disgusting behaviour Frederick displayed. But he still needed confirmation that his brother was being courted with care and dignity. If Laurent was indeed imprinting as Pascal suspected, Auguste’s duty was to make sure Damen was worthy. Part of him always knew the answer. Damen was likely the only Alpha that Auguste could consider giving his blessing to.

So why did he feel like he was grieving a loss?

Confused on his king’s answer, Jord furrowed his brow. 

Auguste unclasped the key’s chain from his neck to hand over to Jord as was part of their morning ritual. “Tell me about Jeurre and Chelaut.” 

Gripping the key tightly in his hands, Jord inclined his head, “They have been kept away from the Kemptian delegation as ordered. I have reports that they have been avoiding being seen together. Jeurre has been skittish and writing several letters but Chelaut’s habits remain unchanged.”

“Have they received my invitation?”

“Yes, your majesty. Both have confirmed their presence and I have no cause to believe they suspect anything.”

“Good, this will be quite the educational experience for the Council. Make sure they don’t attempt to flee. Councillor Jeurre might try to slip away.” Auguste adjusted his father’s old ring on his thumb before dismissing Jord. 

—

After days of eating only thin broths and light fruits, Laurent was famished. He had never been so happy to see a breakfast spread in his life. It included all of his favourites including freshly pressed juice made from oranges brought up from Delfleur, juicy sausages still steaming from the frying pan, an egg omelette so fluffy that it reminded him of a cloud and the best part; freshly baked pastries stuffed with the lightest cream, richest chocolate and sweetest jams. 

Sunlight drenched the arched pavilion where they sat. It was the perfect time of year to eat outdoors in the privacy of the secluded Queen’s Rose Garden that their great grandmother had built. The roses were in full bloom and the sun was deliciously warm. Laurent felt a little bit like a cat as he enjoyed the scenery. It was a shame that once the summer rains begin they would be unable to eat outdoors as often. It was even better that the servants and guards gave them a wide berth and they could enjoy a moment of privacy.

So focused was Laurent on eating his fill that he missed the fond smile Auguste stared at him with. It was only after his second bite of pain au chocolat that he took in his brother’s dark circles contrasting with that annoyingly loving look he had on.

“Why are you looking at me as if I just came back from war?”

“In a way, you have. I was worried sick and there was very little Pascal could actually do to help you.” Then he added somewhat sheepishly, “Or that I could do.”

“I see, this is about Damen.” With a playful smile, Laurent lifted a steaming cup of tea. “Did you threaten him before allowing him inside my chambers?”

“Of course not!” Auguste scoffed indignantly until he saw his little brother raise a single brow, “Only a little.”

“I like him, Gus.” Laurent confessed with a soft little blush that made Auguste’s heart clench.

“The feeling is definitely mutual. That poor man is hopelessly besotted.” It pained him to admit it but he knew it to be true. Regardless of political advantage, anyone with half a brain could see that this was a love match if they saw the pair together at least once. 

Auguste’s remark had pleased Laurent who was grinning now. To see Laurent so excited about a prospect was a sight that Auguste never thought he’d see. Yet here was his darling baby brother practically gushing over an Alpha. Or least gushing in the way that Laurent was capable of doing so.

“He will be returning to Ios soon but I want to officially accept his suit. How did mother do it with father, do you know?”

“It was a similar custom to how Tamara accepted mine; with a portrait. We can commission a miniature to send to Akielos if you wish.” The king did his very best to sound more supportive than he felt. 

“Yes, that would be suitable.” Approving of the idea, Laurent sipped at his tea leisurely as if it were a normal day like any other. As if he had not been nearly forcibly mated a week ago. This open happiness was a direct result of Damen’s care and Auguste knew he’d never find it in himself to stand between them.

“Remember that you are not allowed to get married before me. If you get married before Tamara is pregnant, then-.” Auguste huffed, losing out to his more petty side.

Rolling his eyes, Laurent set down his cup and finally took in his brother’s mannerisms. “Don’t worry, Gus. There is still a lot to do before I marry. But given my situation, it might be best to make sure Damen is near me for my next heat.”

“I know.” Gritting his teeth, Auguste then closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I’ll arrange it but it is only for you. I will not risk having you near him for his rut cycle.”

“Is that what is bothering you? Gus, relax. He was a perfect gentleman and would never do anything without my express permission.”

“That is not nearly as comforting as you think it is, Laurie. You think I don’t know about the incident in the maze? I’m beginning to think Damen isn’t the one to worry about.”

Shrugging, Laurent merely gave his brother a little smirk. “Well, I may be an Omega but I am still Veretian.”

Praying to the Gods to help him handle the situation, Auguste frowned, “I found a grey hair this morning and I want you to know that it is your fault.”

“You’re being silly. Anyway, your wedding is already set for midsummer and I’m sure my lovely new sister-in-law will be pregnant before the year is out. You say Damen is besotted but I have seen the way you smile at Tamara.”

“How do I smile at Tamara?”

Mustering a sweet smile, Laurent met his brother’s stare, “Like an idiot.”

“Brat.”

“You love me.”

Auguste did. Does, even. No one was more precious to him than his brother. There were times he felt more like a father than a brother to Laurent, given he had been the most consistent guiding hand in his life. It was why it took everything in him not to hang his Councillors for the stunt they had pulled. But he trusted Laurent enough to wait for his recovery and hear his side.

“Laurie, I hate to bring this up but we must speak about your letter. I have questions and I cannot allow the crime done to you to remain unpunished.”

Just like that, Laurent’s appetite had waned. Luckily he had eaten enough. “You won’t need to, Gus. As you probably already know by now, I had Aimeric keep an eye on Chelaut. He had once been close to Guion and even with a clean record, I suspected him of being unsatisfied with your rule. ‘Too progressive’. I knew the old guard would struggle with the changes you wanted to make. Only Herode has embraced your ideas but I think he always had high hopes for the Starburst heir.”

“Being old fashioned doesn’t usually lead to such underhanded schemes. As you said, his record is clean so why would be make a move now?” Auguste had laced his fingers together and pressed his chin to them as he listened.

“To put it simply, he fears for his position. We already knew Jeurre was on his way out given how he has been lining his pockets with royal funds. These are men that have a history of supporting uncle’s proposed bills. You found evidence against Guion and I against Audin. He would not have been tempted by Aimeric’s assistance if his past were truly clean. I must have been getting close to something damning and so he decided he needed me mated and safely out of Vere.”

As usual, it made perfect sense and Auguste found himself sighing. He had hoped schemes had been left in the past but there was still time to solidify support for his rule. “I can’t easily get rid of them both, Laurie. They are both highly influential with the nobles and represent tradition. There is something else that doesn’t quite fit. Why not support your match to Akielos since you were clearly showing interest in Damianos?”

“As intelligent as Chelaut is, he is held back by old prejudices. He lost his father in the previous conflict with Akielos years ago. I don’t think he could find it in himself to accept Akielos as a true ally.” Laurent leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes for a moment to enjoy the sun’s warmth. When he reopened his eyes, his stare seemed far away. “You don’t have to get rid of them, Gus. We can bring them to heel. Or at least one of them.”

“Why do I get the feeling you planned for this?”

“Because you know me.” Laurent smiled.

“What about Frederick?”

“Given that I also know you, I can safely assume you wrote to King Gustav about the incident?” When Auguste nodded, he continued, “Then we will see justice done. Kemptians are proud and such a scandal won’t please grandfather.”

“I should have castrated him.” Muttered the King as he idly poked at his now cold eggs.

Laurent couldn’t help but chuckle, “As tempting a thought as that is, it would serve us better to let grandfather pass judgement.”

“If he does not give us justice then he should know it is not just Vere he would antagonise.”

That surprised Laurent. “What do you mean?”

“Damianos all but promised military aid against the Duke if need be. He was furious when he heard what happened.”

“He did not mention that he knew.” Laurent felt mortified, not taking into consideration that Damen would have heard what happened.

“He was being considerate of your condition. I admit that pleases me.”

“So you approve of the match, then?” The question was asked so softly that Auguste felt the vulnerability in it. Laurent wanted his brother’s approval as a boy would wish for his father’s.

Auguste needed a moment to choose his words carefully. Such a thing became a habit after everything that happened in Marlas. “I approve of anyone who makes you smile, Laurie. You promised to take your time though, remember? I will make allowances given the situation but I still insist on you both carrying on with the courtship first.”

“Don’t worry, I told him as much.”

It was good enough for now, Auguste supposed. Besides, they still have to deal with Jeurre and Chelaut. As usual, Laurent had a plan.

—

Jeurre made a point not to allow any lingering eye contact with Chelaut as they waited outside the King’s study. The fact they had both been invited, not summoned, did little to calm their nerves. They had no way of knowing whether or not the Kemptian Duke had sold them out. 

Tension grew until it snapped by startling both Councillors when the door to the study opened. Sebastian emerged and bowed his head, “Honoured Councillors. The King is ready for you now.”

Exchanging frowns, the Councillors entered the study and were directed to the plush sofa as their King finished reading a document. The usual greetings were exchanged but their senses stood on alert when the door to the study was locked. Jeurre’s head snapped over to see Prince Laurent turning the key to the door and approaching them like a viper slithering close to its prey. 

“Ah yes, my brother is joining us today. I trust neither of you mind?” Auguste asked, clearly rhetorical as he sat on an armchair with a high back and made himself comfortable.

“Of course not, your majesty.” Jeurre assured him quickly.

“It is always a pleasure to see you, Prince Laurent.” Chelaut added, standing up to give the customary bow.

“Is it.” Drawled Laurent as he took the twin chair next to his brother and crossed his legs. He reached into his doublet to produce a pendant in the shape of a key. His collar’s key to be precise. Yet the King himself was wearing the original around his neck. “Allow me to be direct, Councillors. This was in Duke Frederick’s possession when he attempted to force a bond onto me. Any idea how such a foolish plot entered his mind?”

“He what!?” Exclaimed Jeurre, paling instantly at the sight of the fake key. 

“You did not know?” Auguste mused, eyeing Chelaut’s reaction closely who kept himself guarded.

“I knew his grace wished to court you, your highness. I did not know he would go so far. All I did was advise him on an appropriate bridal price offer.”

A stern furrow crept onto Auguste’s forehead, “Even after I made my thoughts on the matter clear to the Council?”  

Shame coloured Jeurre’s face, “Your majesty, I did not see the harm! I only wished to cultivate Kempt’s good will.”

“Good will.” Laurent repeated slowly, allowing the fake key to swing from his hands. “You are aware of the precarious situation you find yourself in, Councillor. However, I think my brother will agree when I say such things can be pardoned. After all, I do not think you were behind this scheme.”

“Nor I.” Auguste agreed and took in the relief easing across Jeurre’s wrinkles. “I understand your frustrations with recent changes, Councillor. You are of my father’s court, not mine. But even so you would do little more than air out your grievances over wine.”

“T-that may be true, your majesty. But I am loyal to Vere. To you.”

“I believe you.” Laurent assured him softly and moved his gaze to Chelaut. “Councillor Chelaut, you’re awfully quiet.”

“Indeed, your highness. In fact I am unsure as to why I am here for this audience. What happened to you was terrible but I am sure King Gustav will grant us justice. As you can see, Councillor Jeurre is loyal if somewhat misguided. Am I here to offer counsel on the matter?”

Both royal brothers stared at Chelaut in what could only be described as mild amusement. Instead of responding, Auguste looked over to Laurent who stood up. He collected a small pile of documents from the King’s desk and dropped them onto the coffee table in the sitting area so that everyone could look at them. 

“You have always been more careful that your colleagues, Chelaut.” Laurent began and only paused to glance to his brother. Receiving an encouraging nod, he sat back down, “But you were far too quick to trust the wrong person. You see, Aimeric has always been loyal to me.”

That got him a reaction as anger overtook Chelaut, “You set me up.”

“It did not take much, did it? A few words of solidarity and understanding. An offer to help. Now you see that I made sure there was a fake copy of my collar key. You needn’t have used it, Chelaut. It was entirely possible I would have taken to the Duke. Shame about that personality of his...”

“Shame indeed, he seemed so respectable too.” Auguste added with a thoughtful nod. 

“Your majesty! How can you support such antics? I was led to ruin like a lamb to slaughter!” Burst out Chelaut, a man who was normally the very picture of restraint. Wisely, Jeurre chose to remain silent. In comparison, his offences were capable of being pardoned. 

Auguste stared at his Councillor as if he were an annoying insect that needed stepping on. “You dare to make yourself a victim after orchestrating the attempted rape of your Omega prince? What do you think would have happened if you had somehow gotten hold of the real key? I was going to give you a chance to repent but I see that was a fruitless notion. Laurent, call the guards. Councillor Chelaut is under arrest and will remain in a cell until his trial. Our people will judge him.”

“Y-your majesty wait! I’m sorry! I only wanted the best for Prince-.” But Auguste wasn’t listening and Laurent had already opened the door for guards to flood into the room and slap Chelaut in irons.

Once the guards left, Jeurre was covered in cold sweat and he did not dare glance up. The man was defeated and docile. Laurent was sure he’d never move against them again.

“As for you, Jeurre,” Auguste looked to the remaining Councillor, “I will see you are given a full pardon and granted the post of Ambassador to Kempt. I take it you will have no qualms on testifying against Chelaut?”

“N-none, your majesty.”

“Good, dismissed.”

Jeurre could not get out fast enough. 

Rumours began to spread after that. ‘The Omega Viper’ had bared his fangs and showed all of Vere what would happen to anyone who schemed against him or the crown. Auguste had solidified his reign with no remaining opposition. 

—

Arles emptied out. The Vaskians had been the first to leave following the coronation. The Kemptian delegation had left Vere in shame and forced to bring back their Duke to await King Gustav’s justice. Prince Torveld returned to Patras with Vere’s future Queen after wedding preparations had been finalised. 

Damen waited until the last possible day to depart. Eventually his own delegation had been packed and ready to return to Akielos. He was loathe to leave Laurent so soon after beginning their courtship but he knew he had much to discuss with his father. Even Nikandros seemed a little hesitant to leave. Only a little. 

Councillor Vannes had come to see them off and shamelessly flirt with the Akielons. Damen caught her exchanging a discreet smile with Nikandros but chose to stay silent over the revelation it offered.

King Auguste had clasped his arm rather than embrace him, “Safe travels, my friend.”

All Damen could do was return the sentiment, “Be well, Auguste.”

Uncaring about protocol, Laurent had stood up on his toes to wrap his arms around him. He was as tall as any Beta but seemed so small next to Damen. They embraced longer than as appropriate.

“Don’t mind Gus, he’s just adjusting to the idea of us mating.” Laurent told Damen in a low murmur, lips a little too close to his ears.

Smiling, Damen pulled back before the vein on Auguste’s forehead popped. “I will miss you Laurent.”

“Write to me.”

“You have my word.” Damen promised.

Something about the tender way they looked at each other made Auguste suspect there would be a grotesque display of tongue if he were not present. The intrusive thought caused him to narrow his eyes at Damen. 

In the end they did not dare do more than have Damen kiss Laurent’s knuckles. Yet it was a gesture he made something of a meal out of if Auguste had anything to say about it. Even long after the Akielons departed, Laurent lingered by his window watching the caravan disappear.

—

It would be at least a fortnight before Damen would sleep in his own bed again. He already had a few letters ready to send to Laurent before stepping foot back in Ios. Despite having enjoyed their time in Vere, Pallas especially, his men were happy to be back home. Erasmus was the only member of their party that had been less than cheerful upon returning. His melancholy matched Damen’s.

His family came out to greet him inside the main gates. The King himself opened his arms to welcome his heir back home. “The Lion of Akielos has returned!” He announced to everyone in the courtyard who cheered.

Hypermenestra has always been kind to him and gave him a hug before Kastor could follow his mother’s example. Jokaste curtsied but did not embrace him, all for the better.

“We expected you a week ago, my son. What news from Vere? Something must have delayed your return.” Theomedes patted his son on the back as they walked inside.

“There is much to speak on, father.”

“Of course. Go refresh yourself in the bath and then join me for supper. I wish to hear everything.”

Damen agreed easily and began to make his way to his chambers when Kastor threw an arm around him with a lopsided grin, “Survived the den of snakes, eh? Did you see that Omega Prince again? Everyone is wondering if he is truly as beautiful as the rumours say.”

Something about the way Kastor spoke of the Veretian royals rubbed him the wrong way. Still, he could not deny the truth, “The rumours do not do him justice.”

“The princeling weed grew into a rose, did he?” Kastor let go of Damen and rubbed at his cropped beard. “Well, I might catch a glimpse myself soon enough. Welcome home little brother.” 

Not even the steam of the royal baths could erase how unsettled Damen felt after that brief exchange with his brother. Kastor had been in a good mood and yet he rarely showed interest in anything that he could not benefit from. 

—

The dining hall was sparse with only the family attending and a handful of slaves playing music or serving. Lykaios played the lyre with the ensemble and flushed prettily when Damen caught her eye. She had always been his favourite and yet now his thoughts were occupied with Laurent. 

In fact the only thing he had been truly homesick for was the food. Veretian food was delicious was far too complex. He was partial to the fresh simplicity of Akielon cuisine. The cooks had outdone themselves in honour of Damen’s return. Spiced lamb in skewers served with a creamy yogurt sauce, freshly baked flatbread, stewed chickpeas, succulent calamari and freshly caught roasted fish. There was a beautifully arranged salad dish with Damen’s favoured sharp cheese. He ate his fill, which was more than the average man was capable of eating. 

His size was not just for show and his training demanded filling meals to maintain his physique. Now more than ever he had reason to be dutiful of his health. After all, Laurent seemed to find him attractive.

“Did the Veretians starve you?” Kastor teased.

“It is likely,” Theomedes smiled in turn, “They know their way around food but serve it in such small quantities. It is why they are smaller than Akielons.”

“I admit I missed our food during my trip.” Damen grinned as he reached for another skewer.

“You returned home just in time for apricot season.” Hypermenestra chimed in delicately, “I will have the kitchens prepare some for your breakfast in the morning.”

“How are the grapes in your vineyard doing this year?” Damen asked politely of his stepmother. His father’s Omega concubine was known for being partial to gardening and cultivating orchards. 

“Too sweet for wine still but they will do nicely by themselves. I will have some sent up to your chambers if you wish.” She bowed her head and tight brown curls fall over part of her face.

“I would like that very much. Thank you.” He offered her a smile and noted how it caused Kastor to nod in approval. 

The King’s bastard son was quite close to his mother and it was easy to put him in a good mood when attention was granted to her. Being a concubine, Hypermenestra would never command the respect of a Queen and Theomedes had refused to elevate his mistress’s status when his wife and mate died in childbirth. 

Hypermenestra, ever tactful, was the first to suggest they retire to take in the night air. With spring drawing to a close, the nights were becoming warmer and more comfortable. Even now a pleasant ocean breeze made its way into the hall from the large open windows. The family left Damen alone with the King.

“Come now, my son. Tell me what it is you wish to say about Vere.”

Not once did King Theomedes seem surprised as Damen recounted all that had transpired in Vere. Including his courtship of Prince Laurent. If anything, his father would smile indulgently as if proud that his boy had found his way.

“I knew sending you to represent me at the coronation was the correct decision. You were moping for far too long after your brother’s wedding.” 

“Father, you speak as if you knew I would court Prince Laurent.” 

Theomedes lifted his goblet so that a slave could refill it, “Come now, Damen. I am your father and I know my son. The Omega Prince was just a child when you first met him but he carried himself with dignity and pride. I have also heard all the talk of his spectacular beauty which coincidentally matches with your preferences. I would have been more surprised if you had not chosen to court him.”

“Then I assume there will be no objection to the match?” Damen asked a little too hopefully.

With a chuckle, the old king reached over to pat his son’s hand. “It is a wise choice and one blessed with affection. The heavens favour you.”

“There is one more thing you ought to know, father.”

“Then tell me, I am quite at my leisure.”

Damen hesitated a moment, earning a raised brow from his father. 

“We are imprinting.”