The morning was cruel.
Altair's eyes cracked open to sunlight filtering through his curtains, soft and golden, far too innocent for the treachery it concealed. Because the very first thought that slithered into his waking mind was not of breakfast, nor of school, nor even of the stars he had fallen asleep beneath.
It was of Cassian.
Specifically, Cassian's face. Cassian's smug, infuriating, intolerable face.
Altair sat up so fast he nearly tangled himself in his sheets. "No. No, no, no." He pressed a hand over his burning cheeks. "I didn't— I couldn't have—"
But he had.
The memory clawed its way back with merciless clarity: the window, the banter, the stars, his heavy eyelids. And then… nothing. Nothing except Cassian's last words echoing in his ear like a secret whispered into his dream.
He had fallen asleep. In front of Cassian. Mid-banter.
Altair flopped back against the pillows with a strangled groan. "Unacceptable. Humiliating. Illegal, even."
There was only one solution: a long, scalding bath to wash the shame away.
---
By the time Altair descended the stairs, his hair damp and his expression schooled into the mask of a disdainful prince, he had almost convinced himself the night was but a fever dream. Surely Cassian wasn't real. Surely the window had remained empty. Surely his pride was intact.
Then he entered the dining room.
His brothers looked up. Three sets of eyes, sparkling with mischief. His parents at the head of the table, serene but suspiciously amused.
And Altair knew he was doomed.
"Well, well, well," drawled his eldest brother, Orion, spearing a strip of bacon with all the menace of an executioner. "Look who finally woke up. The Sleeping Beauty of Astralis."
Altair froze. "…What did you just call me?"
"You heard him," chimed in the second brother, Lyric, grinning around a mouthful of toast. "You fell asleep at the window last night. Like this." He tilted his head dramatically, cheek squished against his palm, lips parted in an exaggerated snore.
The third brother, Aster, practically bounced in his chair. "I saw it too! I went to get water and there you were, all drooly and dreamy, facing his window—"
Altair slammed his hands on the table. "I was not drooly!"
"Ah, so you admit to the dreamy part," Orion said smoothly.
Altair sputtered. "I admit nothing!"
Lyric leaned back, smirk lazy and sharp. "So… was it romantic? Falling asleep under starlight with your childhood nemesis gazing fondly at you?"
Altair's fork clattered. "Fondly?! He was not— He doesn't— Cassian has no capacity for fondness!"
"Cassian, huh?" Aster sing-songed. "You're calling him by name again."
Altair's face flamed. "What else should I call him? The Annoyance? The Plague Upon My Street?"
"Both accurate," Orion said, sipping his coffee. "But less revealing."
"Revealing?!" Altair shrieked. "There is nothing to reveal!"
His parents exchanged a glance over their mugs of tea. His father's lips twitched. His mother's eyes gleamed. Neither spoke, and somehow that was worse. The silence of their judgment weighed heavier than any teasing.
Altair crossed his arms, glaring at his plate. "You are all conspiring against me. A grand betrayal of the highest order."
"Altair," Lyric said, his tone deliberately grave. "Falling asleep in front of someone means trust."
"Or exhaustion," Orion countered, eyes dancing. "Still—very telling."
"Very telling!" Aster echoed with glee.
Altair threw his napkin down. "You are insufferable, every last one of you. I simply—simply—was tired from the immense labor of carrying this household's brilliance on my slender shoulders!"
"Mm," Orion murmured. "Brilliance that falls asleep mid-sentence."
"I will end you," Altair hissed, but his retort lacked its usual venom. His tongue, traitor that it was, stumbled against their jabs. For once, he was cornered.
The laughter around the table rose like a tide, warm and relentless. Even his parents couldn't hide their smiles now. His mother stirred her tea with infuriating serenity, while his father muttered, "Reminds me of a certain pair of windows in our youth…" which earned him a sharp nudge from her elbow.
Altair groaned, burying his face in his hands. This was unbearable. Beyond unbearable. He had survived years of suitors, rivals, admirers. He had parried flirtations and cut down confessions with a flick of his tongue. But his family? They were merciless.
And worst of all—he couldn't outwit them. Not this time.
He shot to his feet, chair screeching. "That's it! I refuse to sit here and be slandered by my so-called kin." He stormed toward the door, voice rising with every step. "I am going to school, where at least my tormentors are predictable!"
"Tell Cassian we said hi!" Aster called after him.
Altair whirled around, finger pointing like a sword. "If any of you ever utter his name in my presence again, I shall— I shall—" He faltered, words failing him utterly. "—sulk most dramatically!"
Then he flung the door open and vanished in a swirl of indignation.
The household erupted into laughter behind him.
And though his cheeks burned and his pride lay in tatters, Altair could not quite smother the tiny, traitorous smile tugging at his lips as he marched toward school.