The air in the castle was thick with the heavy scent of roasted meats, sweet pastries, and the faint tang of wine. Music echoed through the halls, the sound of laughter and lively conversation filling the night. It was another banquet, another night of forced revelry, another night where Eden was reminded of his place in this world.
The laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the murmurs of conversation outside his door made Eden feel more isolated than ever. He was no longer in the cold prison he had once been confined to, but he still felt like a prisoner in this room. The door had been locked behind him, and though he knew Darian had meant for him to be safe, the security of the castle felt more like a cage.
He sat at the edge of the bed, his fingers curling around the soft fabric of the blanket as the sounds of the banquet grew louder. He could hear the faint hum of voices, punctuated by bursts of laughter, the scuffle of boots against the stone floor, and the distinct clink of silverware. But it was the hushed voices that caught his attention.
"Can you believe they've brought the blind omega into the prince's chambers?" The voice was low but clear, dripping with disdain.
Eden's body went still, his breath caught in his throat. He recognized the voice—one of the nobles from the court. A man who had always looked down on him, even when he had been nothing more than a silent presence in the background of the court. Now, his words were like daggers, and they cut deeper than Eden had anticipated.
"He's nothing but a burden," the man continued. "How can the prince—our prince—associate with someone like that? It's humiliating."
Eden's chest tightened, and he forced himself to steady his breath. The words stung, but he had heard worse before. He had grown used to the cruelty of others, especially from those who thought he was nothing more than a broken thing to be ignored or pitied.
"Did you hear?" Another voice chimed in, a woman this time, her tone filled with mockery. "They say he's blind, and yet the prince dares to let him stay at his side. What a joke. Can you imagine the kind of power he'd have, if only he could see what was in front of him?"
Eden's heart fluttered, the world suddenly feeling smaller, more suffocating. The laughter of the banquet echoed through his ears, drowning out everything else, and for a moment, he almost wished he could sink back into the dark silence of his prison. It was easier there—at least in the darkness, no one could see him.
But he couldn't hide. Not anymore. Not from the truth, not from what others thought of him.
"You think Darian will keep him around for long?" the first voice asked. "He's weak. And if he's blind, there's no way he can ever be of any use. You can't trust a broken omega."
"Maybe Darian just enjoys the idea of keeping a crippled pet," the woman sneered. "Something to show off to the court. He's always had a soft spot for the weak ones."
Eden felt his hands trembling in his lap. The words were cruel, yes, but it wasn't the words themselves that hurt. It was the tone. The way they spoke of him—like he was a thing, a commodity to be thrown aside when no longer useful. He had lived his whole life as something lesser in the eyes of others, but hearing it so plainly, so openly—it made the wound inside him feel fresh again.
And then, as if sensing Eden's unease, Darian's voice cut through the laughter and whispers, commanding and strong, but tinged with an unmistakable edge of frustration. "Enough."
The words fell like a quiet decree, cutting through the noise like a knife. Eden's heart skipped a beat at the sudden change in Darian's tone. He could hear the distinct rustle of fabric as Darian entered the room, his steps measured and deliberate.
"Eden?" Darian's voice was softer now, but still firm, a silent invitation. "I'm sorry about them. I should have kept them away from you."
Eden didn't know how to respond. He didn't know if he was more hurt by the insults or by the fact that Darian had allowed it to happen in the first place. He could hear the prince's footsteps draw closer, but he didn't want to turn toward him, didn't want to face the man who had, in his own way, let the insults slip under the radar.
"Are you alright?" Darian asked, his voice softer now, a tender note of concern in it.
Eden took a deep breath, forcing himself to steady his emotions. "I heard them," he murmured, his voice tight. "I heard what they said about me."
There was a long pause. Eden could feel Darian's presence near him, and he could hear the prince's soft intake of breath. "I'm sorry. I should have stopped them before they could speak, but…"
"But you didn't," Eden said, his words cutting through the silence. "You didn't stop them."
The words hung between them like a heavy weight. Eden's heart was pounding, his head spinning with the emotional toll of the evening. "I'm nothing more than a joke to them, aren't I? Something to be looked down on, something to be tossed away when it's no longer useful."
Eden didn't want to sound bitter, but he couldn't stop the bitterness from leaking into his voice. The truth was, he had lived this way for so long that it was hard to imagine anything different. His blindness and his omega status were low while other female or male omega could smell pheromones. He couldn't see ,smell, or have —both were seen as weaknesses by so many. And now, even with the prince's promises, Eden couldn't escape that feeling. He couldn't escape the idea that maybe Darian saw him the same way.
Darian was silent for a long time, and Eden could feel the weight of the prince's gaze on him. Finally, Darian spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't stop them because I thought you were strong enough to handle it. I thought you were strong enough to rise above them."
Eden's breath caught in his chest. "And if I'm not?" he asked quietly, afraid of what the answer might be.
The room was silent for a long time. Then, Darian spoke, his voice quiet but full of conviction. "Then I'll help you be strong enough. I'll protect you from them, from anyone who dares to insult you or look down on you. I'll show them who you really are."
Eden didn't know what to say. He wanted to believe Darian wanted to believe that the prince would stand by him, that he would fight for him. But how could he trust someone who had once imprisoned him, who had used him as a pawn in his own game of power?
"I don't need your protection," Eden muttered, though even as the words left his lips, he knew it wasn't true. He did need it. He needed it more than anything.
Darian was silent again. But this time, it was the silence of understanding, the silence of two people standing on the edge of something fragile, something that could either shatter or grow stronger.
And as Eden sat in the darkness of his room, the muffled sounds of the banquet drifting in from the halls, he allowed himself to believe—just for a moment—that maybe Darian's words were not empty promises. Maybe, just maybe, the prince's actions would match the weight of his vows.