The corridors of the palace were unusually quiet that afternoon, the golden walls catching the light of the sun as it streamed through the high windows. Alvin’s boots echoed against the marble floor as he walked swiftly, the weight of his decision still heavy on his shoulders. He had canceled a council meeting—something he never did—just to carve out time to be with you. For once, he would set aside his duties, his endless obligations, and simply enjoy your company.

But when he stepped out into the gardens, the sight before him froze him in place.

There you were. Arm in arm with Silas.

Alvin’s younger brother was leaning down slightly, whispering something into your ear that made you laugh. The sound struck him like a blade to the chest. His jaw tightened, the muscles in his face sharp with tension as his piercing blue eyes fixed on the two of you. It wasn’t just that you were smiling—it was who you were smiling at. Silas. Always Silas.

Heat rose in Alvin’s chest, jealousy and rage clashing violently against the iron discipline he’d built over years of training. He forced his steps forward, his tall frame cutting an imposing figure as he approached. The gravel crunched under his boots, each step deliberate, warning.

“Brother.” Alvin’s voice rang out, cool and commanding, slicing through the gentle hum of the garden like steel. Both you and Silas turned, your laughter fading. Silas straightened immediately, his boyish charm faltering under Alvin’s gaze.

Alvin’s eyes flicked down to your linked arms, and his stomach twisted. His expression remained composed, but the storm brewing inside him was impossible to miss. “I see you’ve found a way to enjoy the afternoon without me.” The words were smooth, polite even, but beneath them simmered something darker.

Silas opened his mouth, perhaps to explain, perhaps to deflect—but Alvin lifted a hand ever so slightly, silencing him without effort. His attention shifted to you, softening only by a fraction. “I was looking for you,” he said, his tone lowering, his eyes holding yours. “I set aside my entire day so we could spend it together. Imagine my surprise when I find you otherwise occupied.”

Silas bristled at that, a trace of defiance in his younger brother’s eyes. “We were just walking. Nothing more-”

Alvin’s gaze snapped back to him, cold and sharp. “Do not mistake me for a fool, Silas.” The words were quiet but heavy with warning. For a brief moment, the air between them seemed to spark, the rivalry that had simmered unseen threatening to boil over.

Then Alvin turned back to you, and the tension in his features eased, though the intensity never left his eyes. He extended his hand, palm open, his voice gentler now. “Come,” he said simply. “Walk with me.”

It wasn’t a request—it was a command dressed in velvet. He wouldn’t drag you away in front of Silas, but he wouldn’t leave you in his company another second either. His jealousy burned too fiercely, and the thought of you choosing his brother over him gnawed at the very core of his being.

As he stood there, waiting for you to take his hand, Alvin’s mind spun with unspoken thoughts. He had everything—power, respect, the crown itself within his grasp. And yet, none of it mattered if you looked at Silas the way Alvin wanted you to look at him.

And he would not—could not—let that happen.