Rin crossed his arms the moment he fully registered who was lying on the wide hanging swing beneath the old oak tree.
Alaric was sprawled there without the slightest sense of shame, one arm loosely curved around the twins as the swing rocked lazily back and forth. One of the twins had his head pillowed on Alaric's chest, the other curled at his side, their breathing slow and even. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, dappling Alaric's dark hair and the familiar, infuriatingly calm expression on his face.
Rin felt his temple throb.
"What," he said flatly, "are you doing here?"
Alaric stirred at the sound of his voice. His eyes fluttered open, unfocused at first, then slowly warmed as they landed on Rin.
Instead of answering, he lifted his hand and caught Rin's wrist, fingers curling with unthinking familiarity.
"You're back," Alaric murmured, voice low and rough with sleep.
Rin stiffened instantly. Heat rushed to his face, irritation flaring sharp and fast. "Let go—"
Before he could finish, Riven shifted, rubbing his eyes. "Papa…?" the child mumbled, blinking blearily between them.
Riven followed, sitting up with a soft yawn. "Papa's back?"
Rin swallowed the rest of his anger. He gently pulled his hand free, forcing his tone to steady. "Yes. I'm back."
The twins immediately brightened,
scrambling upright. "You're late!" Rhen accused lightly. "We were waiting."
"And we fell asleep," the other added, as if deeply offended by this fact.
Alaric pushed himself up as well, finally sitting properly. He looked faintly sheepish now, the kingly composure slipping just enough to reveal exhaustion underneath.
"They insisted on waiting. I might have… lost the argument."
Rin exhaled through his nose. "Get up. Both of you. We're going inside."
The twins obeyed without complaint, clambering down and grabbing Rin's hands. Alaric followed, brushing leaves from his clothes as if he had every right to be there. Rin didn't look back, but he could feel Alaric's presence behind him like a weight he had never quite learned how to shake off.
Dinner was exactly as Rin had expected.
His aunt bustled about the kitchen with forced cheer, clearly pleased by the unexpected guest. The twins were livelier than they had been all day, talking over each other as they told Alaric about the village, the herbs they had helped dry, the swing, the river, everything. Alaric listened attentively, responding with patience that only seemed to irritate Rin's father further.
"So," his father said at one point, eyeing Alaric over his bowl, "you eat fast for a king."
Alaric paused, then smiled politely. "Old habit."
"Hmph." His father snorted. "Must've learned it before you barged into other people's lives."
Rin winced internally. "Father."
"I'm just saying," the man continued, pointing his spoons, "you don't just disappear for years and come back like nothing happened."
Alaric bowed his head slightly. "You're right. I won't deny that."
The twins, sensing tension, leaned closer to Alaric, which only earned him another sharp look from Rin's father. Still, by the time dinner ended, the old man merely grumbled instead of outright exploding—an outcome Rin counted as a minor miracle.
Afterward, their aunt ushered the twins away to wash up and prepare for bed. The house finally grew quieter, the familiar nighttime stillness settling in.
Alaric stood near the doorway, clearly waiting. When Rin finished rinsing the dishes, Alaric spoke.
"Rin. We need to talk."
Rin did not look at him. "About what?"
"About tomorrow."
That got his attention. Rin turned, brows knitting together. "What about tomorrow?"
Alaric straightened, the trace of hesitation in his eyes unmistakable. "A representative from the Duke of Frerand will arrive."
"And?" Rin said sharply. "What does that have to do with me?"
"He's coming," Alaric continued carefully, "to fetch you. And the twins."
Rin stared at him. "Fetch me?"
"Yes."
Silence stretched between them, taut and dangerous.
"Explain," Rin said slowly.
Alaric inhaled. "The nobles… reached a decision. They believe that if I am to marry you—"
"What?"
"—and if you are to become queen," Alaric hurried on, "then you must hold noble status. The Duke of Frerand has offered to adopt you."
Rin laughed once, short and incredulous. "Marry? Queen? Adopted?" He ran a hand through his hair, disbelief giving way to irritation. "Are you out of your mind? Did you decide all of this without asking me?"
Alaric flushed. "I didn't want to rush you. But the nobles already know about you. About the twins. This was the fastest way to—"
"To what?" Rin snapped. "Tie me down? Solve your political inconvenience?"
"That's not—"
"Enough," Rin said, cutting him off. "I can't believe you."
Before Alaric could respond, a small voice drifted from the hallway. "Papa?"
The twins peeked out from their room. "Can you come? We want a story."
Rin closed his eyes briefly, then nodded. "I'm coming."
He turned back to Alaric. "We'll continue this later."
The twins' bedroom was warm and softly lit. Alaric sat at the bedside, holding an old storybook, reading in a low, steady voice while Rin is on the other side of the twins. Riven fell asleep quickly, breath evening out within minutes. While Rhen stubbornly awake, eyes bright as he listened.
Rin get up for a moment before whispering, "I'll get some water. Let's continue our conversation after he falls asleep."
In the kitchen, Rin poured himself a cup, hands trembling just slightly. Before he could drink, his aunt's voice sounded behind him.
"Rin."
He turned, surprised to see both her and his father awake. "Why are you still up?"
"We heard some of it," his aunt said gently. "We want to know… what are you thinking?"
Rin stared into his cup. "You already know how I feel about freedom. I don't belong in a palace."
His father nodded. "You were never one to be tied down."
"I'm not fit to be a ruler," Rin added quietly. "Or a queen."
"I know," his aunt said. "But think about the twins."
"They have me," Rin replied at once.
"You know that's not what I mean."
Rin fell silent.
"Why don't you be selfish this time?" his aunt continued. "Not for duty. Not for the children. For yourself."
Rin frowned. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying," she said softly, "listen to your heart."
Rin scoffed. "I don't have feelings for him."
"Then tell me," his aunt pressed, "what would you feel if Alaric married someone else?"
Rin opened his mouth—
—and froze.
The image rose unbidden: Alaric standing beside someone else, smiling that rare, gentle smile. Children at his side. A future that did not include Rin at all.
Something in his chest tightened painfully.
His father stood. "That's enough for tonight." He paused at the doorway, then added gruffly, "I may hate that bastard.And I know how strong and independent you are ,But for once ,I want to see you genuinely happy, my son."
After they left, Rin remained alone in the kitchen, heart pounding.
Me… having feelings for Alaric?
Footsteps sounded behind him.
"Rin?"
He turned. Alaric stood there, watching him quietly.
Their eyes met.
Rin felt his face heat, pulse racing as the thought echoed in his mind, unwanted and undeniable.
Do I… really have feelings for him?