The entire country of Gia was rejoicing over the return of their second prince and his mate. Within hours, the Empire announced the wedding. Streets bloomed with bright flags, banners in gold and white draped over rooftops, and every corner was alive with music, laughter, and dancing. Vendors handed out sweets, children waved paper fans painted with the couple's silhouettes, and people toasted the union as if it were the celebration of the decade.
But inside the second prince's private quarters, there was no laughter—only a heavy, stifling quiet.
Even the servants, who normally moved briskly with cheerful efficiency, now exchanged uneasy glances as they worked. They couldn't help but notice: their prince didn't seem happy. Not one bit. He hadn't openly complained, but to those who had served him for years—those who remembered the bright, joking, warm-hearted man he once was—the sight of him walking around with a faraway look and no spark in his eyes was unsettling.
