The dining hall glows tonight like a church for a wedding that isn't mine.
Chandeliers burn brighter than they have in years—every crystal polished, every flame standing tall. Candles flicker along the walls, along the sideboards, along every surface that can hold them.
The servants stand in rows like soldiers awaiting inspection. More than usual. More than necessary. Their backs straight. Their eyes forward. Their hands ready to serve.
Ready to serve their new prince.
The long table stretches between us like a country. Roasted meats steaming in silver trays. Imported fruits stacked in towers that must have taken hours to arrange.
Dishes I can't name, can't taste, can't even look at without seeing the effort behind them—
All for a boy who probably can't even say thank you.
Dad sits at the head of the table. His chair. Higher than everyone else's. His kingdom.
Mom beside him, smiling—she hasn't stopped smiling since he arrived. Chatting about that Beta like he's the only language she speaks anymore.
Since he came here, Mom has no other topic. Just his beauty. Just his eyes. Just his skin. Just the way he walks. Just the way he breathes. Just the way he exists.
Everic sits beside me. Eyes on them too. Listening to Mom and Dad talk like their words deserve listening.
Nodding along like a puppet whose strings they hold.
My eyes are on them too.
Angry stare. Fed up stare. The kind of stare that builds walls between people.
Mom's voice drifts toward me—bright, breathless, the voice she uses for things she treasures.
"Elias, did you see how beautiful his eyes are?" A pause. She's remembering. Savoring.
"They look like a rare jewel."
Dad nods, swirling wine in his glass. He doesn't drink—just watches the liquid catch light.
"I've never seen that color before."
His voice thoughtful. Almost reverent.
"It's... rare."
Something inside me snaps.
Small. Quiet. But final.
The words leave my mouth before I can catch them—cold, flat, sharp enough to cut.
"What's so rare? It's just brown."
Silence.
Not the comfortable kind. The kind that announces disaster.
Mom's smile fades slowly. Like watching sunlight retreat from a valley. Like something beautiful dying in real time.
She looks at me.
Dad's gaze shifts too. Lands on me like a blade finding flesh. Sharp. Precise. Dangerous.
"If he's not that beautiful," he says, voice low and quiet—the quiet before storms—"then why did you stare at him without blinking? When you saw him?"
I blink.
Look away.
Too late. He saw it.
Everic smiles. That smile. The one that says I caught you red-handed and I'm going to enjoy this.
"And how do you know his eyes are brown?"
Innocent voice. Mocking eyes. "You must have looked pretty hard. Pretty close. Pretty long."
"I was just analyzing him."
My voice stays steady. Flat. Empty of everything I feel.
"He's not compatible with me"
Dad exhales. Long. Slow. The sound of patience dying by inches.
"Ellis."
His voice hardens. Crystallizes.
"You're still stuck on this topic? We already talked about it. We already decided."
I look back at him. Full face. Full fury.
The anger I've been trying to cover—trying to swallow like bitter medicine, trying to bury six feet deep, trying to ignore until it starves—starts boiling again in my chest.
Rising. Burning. Demanding out.
"When did we talk?"
My voice rises too. I can't help it. Don't want to help it.
"You didn't listen to anything I said. You just announced your decision like my opinion doesn't matter. Like I don't matter. And forced me into this marriage."
I'm breathing hard now.
"I already told you. I hate Betas."
Dad rubs his temple. Eyes closed. Like I'm a headache he's been trying to cure for twenty years.
"Ellis."
His voice tired now. Worn.
"Just shut up. Don't say anything about him. Not tonight."
I cross my arms. Let the smirk curl my lips—slow, deliberate, cruel.
"Why? You don't like hearing the truth?"
I tilt my head. Let the poison drip. "If you're so obsessed with him, marry him to Everic."
Everic—mid-sip of water—coughs. Hard. Choking. His hand pounds his chest as he stares at me with wide, watering eyes.
I look at him. Smirk spreading.
"Yes. He's so obedient to you. He does everything you ask."
I let the words land. Heavy. Deliberate. Cruel.
"And I'm not obedient. So why am I marrying your favorite prince? Everic should."
Everic sputters. Wipes his mouth.
"Ellis, what the hell are you saying?"
Dad's voice cuts through. Cold. Final. The voice that ends conversations.
"If I could," he says slowly, "I would choose Everic for this marriage."
I lean forward. Quick. Hungry. Desperate.
"Then why didn't you?"
Dad stares at me. No blinking. No mercy.
"Because the proposal came only for you."
I stare back. Unblinking.
Only for me.
The words land in my chest like stones. Heavy. Cold. Permanent.
Everic leans back in his chair. A relief smile spreading across his lips—relief so obvious it's almost cruel. Almost. Like watching someone dodge a bullet aimed at your heart.
"Looks like someone's secretly in love with my little brother," he murmurs. Quiet. Just for me.
I open my mouth—
The dining hall doors open.
Wide. Silent. Announcing.
Every gaze shifts.
Silas enters.
Behind him, his secretary moves like a shadow with purpose—close enough to catch him if he falls, far enough to pretend he's just furniture. Always watching. Always there.
The light from the chandeliers catches him. Pours over him like water. Like worship.
Mom and Dad smile softly. The moment they see his face, their whole expressions change.
Soften. Warm. Like he's sunlight and they've been cold for years.
Everic stares. Eyes fixed. Mouth slightly open. Unmoving.
A whisper slips from his lips before he can stop it.
"He's really beautiful."
Silas's secretary steps forward. Bows lightly. Polished. Professional.
"We apologize for the lateness."
Mom waves a hand, dismissing the apology like it's nothing.
"No need." Her voice warm. Too warm.
She looks at Silas, her voice softening further—the voice she used to use with me, once.
"Dear, did you rest well?"
Silas looks at her.
And smiles.
Nods.
That smile again.
The same answer to everything. Like language is optional for him. Like words are beneath him.
Everic stands. Eyes still on Silas like magnets. He raises his hand—too eager, too bright.
"I'm Everic. Ellis's big brother."
Silas gives him the same smile—the one he gives everyone, apparently—and shakes his hand.
Brief. Polite. His eyes don't linger.
Mom gestures toward the table.
"Let's start dinner."
Everic sits back down beside me. Eyes still on Silas. Still staring.
Silas's eyes shift.
Find me.
Our eyes lock across the table—candlelight between us, food between us, my whole family between us.
And now his eyes aren't just brown. They glow in the candlelight—warm, deep. Like embers hiding secrets.
The servant pulls out his chair. He sits.
In front of me. Directly across.
Close enough to touch if I reached. Far enough to feel like miles.
That smile still on his lips. Still there. Never leaving. Never changing.
Like he's secretly laughing at my situation. Like my anger is just entertainment to him.
Like I'm a child throwing a tantrum and he's the adult waiting patiently for it to end.
My fists clench on my lap. Hidden beneath the table. Nails biting into palms.
This smile.
It makes me so pissed off.
It makes me want to wipe it off his face.