The palace hadn't changed.
Not the marble floors or the towering columns. Not the gold-lined doors or the scent of cold, polished air. Not the way the chandeliers shimmered like frozen stars.
Everything was still perfect. Still flawless.
Still a cage wrapped in velvet.
Cael stood just inside the grand hall, cloaked in silence.
His mask covered his face. His sword was sheathed at his back. His posture straight, rigid—trained. The perfect imitation of a mute knight.
But his hands...
His hands were cold.
His chest tight.
Every step forward made the air feel thinner.
⸻
The twins were beside him, dressed in navy and black silk that matched the deep red of their eyes.
They looked like nobility.
No—
They looked like gods in children's skin.
Beautiful. Terrifying.
And yet...
They clung to him.
Viel held onto the edge of his sleeve. Eryx kept brushing against his side, like a cat marking territory with each step.
They didn't care about the glittering nobles or the endless whispers. They didn't bow, didn't nod, didn't even blink at the king's stiff welcome or the queen's painted smile.
They looked only at him.
"Stay close," Viel whispered.
"Don't leave us," Eryx added.
Cael offered a small nod.
He couldn't speak. Not here. Not without risking everything.
But he squeezed Viel's hand.
Just once.
⸻
Eyes were on him.
He could feel them.
From the balconies. The banquet tables. The pillars wrapped in ivy and silk.
Curiosity. Suspicion.
That knight—
Who is he?
How is he still alive?
Why do the monsters act like children around him?
The whispers were as loud as thunder.
He didn't look up. Didn't meet anyone's gaze.
Especially not the one he knew was watching the hardest.
Rowan.
He wasn't sure if his stepbrother was here yet. He didn't feel him. But that meant nothing.
Cael's heart thudded behind his ribs.
Soft violins, the murmur of nobility, the clinking of glasses.
But Cael barely heard any of it.
He stood at the edge of the ballroom, masked and silent, wrapped in the persona of a voiceless knight. The twins stood close—too close. Their matching red eyes scanned the room like hounds scenting something foul. Cael kept still, back straight, gloved hands folded behind him like any dutiful escort.
Then—
a small tug on his sleeve.
Viel.
The boy looked up at him, brows furrowed, lips pursed in a sulky pout.
He tapped his chest, then rubbed at one eye like a sleepy cat.
Then, he held his arms up.
Cael blinked behind his mask.
Viel gave him a look.
That look.
The one that screamed: You promised to spoil me.
Cael hesitated, glancing around. Dozens of nobles. Watchful eyes. Royalty.
But then Viel whispered, almost inaudibly:
"...Please?"
Cael sighed inwardly.
He crouched and gently scooped the boy into his arms. Viel immediately curled against him, arms looped around Cael's neck, his silver head tucked under Cael's chin. His weight was warm. Familiar.
"Really?" Eryx muttered, watching. "You're such a brat."
Cael looked over and raised a brow, as if to say jealous?
"I'm not jealous," Eryx said, crossing his arms.
Cael tilted his head, unconvinced.
"...Maybe a little," Eryx muttered.
Cael shifted his stance slightly, one arm cradling Viel, the other casually held out to Eryx.
Eryx lit up like a smug cat.
But instead of reaching for a hug, he looped his arm around Cael's waist and leaned in like a satisfied lover.
Now he had his share too.
Cael rolled his eyes behind the mask but let it happen. The nobles were definitely whispering now.
A mute knight, wrapped in two monsters like their personal comfort toy.
Let them whisper.
Let them guess.
He stood there silently, two devil princes clinging to him like overgrown toddlers, and thought:
This can't be normal.
But then Viel nuzzled his collarbone and let out the softest sigh of peace.
The palace doors opened with a thunderous hush.
Conversation stilled.
Musicians slowed.
Eyes turned.
And there he was.
Crown Prince Aurelian.
Dressed in deep obsidian and silver-trimmed robes, his presence cut through the glittering crowd like a blade through silk. He walked with calm dignity, every step echoing with restrained authority—not forced, but earned. Behind him trailed a line of attendants, cloaked in royal colors, but no one looked at them.
All eyes were on him.
The King's heir.
The golden boy of the empire.
His features were calm, sculpted from quiet strength—gray-blue eyes beneath pale lashes, a soft mouth that rarely smiled, but never lied. Not like the rest.
Cael tensed.
He knew that face.
He hadn't seen him in years, but he remembered.
Aurelian—the boy who once shared books with him beneath the magnolia tree in the royal courtyard. The one who stood between him and his bullies more than once. A quiet protector. A strange sort of friend.
But Cael couldn't move.
Couldn't speak.
He wasn't Cael here.
He was Finn, the silent knight with no past.
Beside him, Viel stirred but said nothing. Eryx only narrowed his eyes.
And across the ballroom, Aurelian's gaze swept the floor...
Until it stopped.
On them.
On him.
Cael swallowed hard.
The Crown Prince's expression didn't shift, but something flickered in his eyes.
Recognition?
Curiosity?
Or maybe it was just a coincidence.
But Cael knew better.
Because Aurelian had always been sharp.
Too sharp.
And suddenly, Cael's heart began to race—
because the prince had just changed direction.
And he was walking toward them.