chapter 3

Maximilian sat in the quiet solitude of his gallery, a place where the air felt heavy with the memories of his late father. This room, draped in shadows and colors, was more than just his sanctuary—it was the one gift from his father that he had held close, the only place where he felt understood. Here, the late king had taught him, not just the strokes of a brush or the blending of colors, but a way of seeing the world that only they had shared.

Wearing a simple white shirt smeared with streaks of paint and black trousers, Max was focused on the canvas in front of him. He was painting a bird, trapped in a golden cage. Behind it loomed a grand palace, and within the cage lay an abundance of fruits and luxuries, yet the bird sat unmoving, its eyes dull. The elegance of the gilded bars, the abundance of offerings—all of it contrasted painfully with the emptiness in the bird’s gaze.

He sighed softly, his voice barely a whisper as he spoke to himself, tracing the lines of the bird’s delicate feathers. “You have everything you could want, don’t you? The finest of all things, and yet... here you sit, never knowing what it’s like to feel the wind beneath your wings.”

Max paused, his hand hovering over the canvas as he looked into the painted bird’s eyes, as if trying to see his own reflection there. "What use is a beautiful cage if you’ve never known the world outside it?" he murmured, a faint crack in his voice. “How is a life complete if it’s only ever lived behind bars?”

Setting down his brush, he leaned closer to the canvas, his fingers tracing the bird as though he could reach through the paint and free it. “I know how you feel,” he whispered, a hint of sadness softening his tone. “Trapped, caught between duty and dreams. This gilded life that’s supposed to be a blessing… sometimes it feels like a curse.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, swallowing the ache in his chest, before giving the cage on the canvas a final, lingering look. "If only someone would open this cage," he murmured, almost to himself. "Just once... so that you could feel what freedom really is."

As Max set down his brush, still caught in the melancholy of his painting, a soft knock sounded at the door. A maid appeared, bowing slightly as she said, "Your Highness, His Majesty is requesting your presence."

Max straightened, the solemnity of the request pulling him from his thoughts. "Alright, I'm coming," he replied, his voice carrying a note of apprehension. Leaving the gallery, he made his way to the grand meeting chamber where his brother, King Julian III, handled affairs of state and held private discussions.

When Max entered, he saw Julian waiting, his expression unreadable. "Did you ask for me, Your Majesty?" Max inquired, bowing slightly.

"Yes,dear" Julian replied with a small nod. "Come, sit."

Max took the seat across from his brother, who slid a letter across the table to him. “Max, read this,” Julian instructed, his tone serious.

Max took the letter, his eyes skimming over the elegant script on the first page. The words etched on the parchment made his heart pound as he read the introduction:

"By the authority of His Majesty King Alistair Vireli, ruler of the Kingdom of Vireli, this letter is hereby addressed to His Majesty King Julian III of Ashbourne. It is with great consideration that I, King Alistair Vireli, humbly present an offer to forge a deeper alliance, a bond that extends beyond mere formalities or military support. This proposal comes from the heart of our kingdom's desire to fortify not only our loyalty to one another but our kinship, through a lasting union of our royal families."

Max’s fingers tightened around the letter as he continued reading, his breath quickening. Each line felt laden with meaning, the implications settling heavily upon his shoulders. The ornate language felt both grand and daunting, carrying with it a weight of expectation he hadn’t anticipated.

"It is my honor to extend to you an invitation to unite our realms in a bond beyond diplomacy, a bond of kin. Thus, I present the hand of my beloved son, Prince Alexandros Vireli, to your kingdom, in the hopes that his marriage may join him with your esteemed brother, Prince Maximilian Ashbourne. In this way, we shall become not merely allies in war and trade, but family in truth, bound together by blood, honor, and love."

Max felt a shiver run down his spine. The final lines drove the message home with an unyielding clarity, echoing in his mind as he absorbed the purpose of the letter.

**"May this union mark a new chapter in our kingdoms' histories, where the strength of our unity will shine as brightly as the crown of each ruler upon our thrones. With this, I await your acceptance of this offer, trusting that it shall bring lasting peace and prosperity to both our kingdoms.

With deep respect and hope for a blessed future,

King Alistair Vireli."**

Max exhaled shakily, lowering the letter, the words still reverberating in his mind. An arranged marriage… a future shared with Prince Alexandros of Vireli. It felt as if his world was shifting beneath him, pulling him into an unfamiliar path, one lined with both uncertainty and immense responsibility.

Julian observed his brother closely, sensing the turmoil in Max’s eyes. "So," he asked quietly, "what do you think?"

Max swallowed, his voice barely a murmur. “It’s… unexpected, Your Majesty.”

Julian watched his younger brother, whose expression betrayed a mixture of confusion and defiance. "Maxie," Julian began, his tone firm yet laced with an unexpected gentleness, "I want you to stop overthinking this. You've reached twenty-seven—three years past the age when most princes secure their futures with partners. Alexandros is twenty-five and already poised to take the throne. And you… you’re still here, uncertain, drifting without a companion to share the weight of your life and title.”

Julian’s gaze softened as he leaned forward, pressing his point. "I can't shield you forever, Max. The eyes of the court are relentless. Unmarried princes attract nothing but whispers and pity, and for a spare princes, the scrutiny is even worse. You deserve more than to be circled by these vultures, to have them doubt your strength, your ability to rule, simply because you’re alone.”

Max’s shoulders tensed as he absorbed his brother's words, but Julian continued, undeterred. “Alexandros… he’s open to relationships with both women and men, and somehow—whatever their reasons—the kingdom of Vireli has extended this offer specifically to you. We don’t know why, not fully, but perhaps that’s a good thing, Max. Perhaps they see something in you that is worth this alliance.”

He paused, letting his words settle in the silence. "Take as much time as you need to think about this, Max," he added, his voice lowering, “but not too long. If word gets out, if we let this opportunity slip away, an unmarried prince of Ashbourne will become a scandal rather than an asset. It’s not good for the family, not good for you, and it certainly isn’t good for the stability of the realm."

Max let out a weary sigh, shaking his head slightly. "So… you're telling me that this is your way of getting rid of me? Sending me off to Vireli to be their problem instead?"

Julian’s face softened, but his voice remained unwavering. "No, Max. Not at all. Prince Maximilian Ashbourne, you are cherished here, but you need to understand that your freedom as a prince fades quickly after twenty. These courtly eyes will never stop watching you, never stop whispering, if you remain alone.”

Max stared down at the letter, his mind swirling. "And if he's not a good man?" he murmured, almost to himself. “If he’s nothing like what I want?”

Julian leaned forward, a quiet strength in his voice. “Then I’m here for you, Max. If Alexandros fails to be the partner you need, if he is anything less than what you deserve, then come back. I will always welcome you back, no matter what. But give this a chance. Speak with him, spend time with him—get to know him. I’m not asking you to rush into marriage. Just… open yourself to the possibility that not every marriage ends in sorrow.”

Max sighed, a flicker of bitterness flashing in his eyes. "It’s not marriage I detest, Julian. It’s the endless cycle of pressure and expectation… the feeling that I’m merely an asset in some grand scheme."

Julian nodded, his tone soft but resolute. “And yet, it’s within these alliances, these traditions, that we secure our kingdom's strength. Not every prince you meet will be like… that prick, trapped in loveless contracts, weighed down by cruelty and mistrust.” His voice held a note of disdain as he thought back to legends of harshly ruled lands like Valencia of the Shadows, a kingdom whose royal alliances were rumored to be forged in betrayal and bitterness. “Not every prince will demand your heart and then crush it under his own ambitions.”

Max took a deep, measured breath. Julian’s words were difficult to refute, their wisdom undeniable, though they felt like a burden heavy on his chest. "Very well," Max said slowly, the resignation in his voice almost palpable. "When he arrives… I’ll speak with him, listen, try to understand who he truly is. But I make no promises, Julian.”

Julian smiled faintly, a warmth in his eyes as he reached across to place a hand on Max's shoulder. "That’s all I ask, Max. Just give it a chance. You might find, in the most unexpected of ways, something beautiful."

Max sat in silence, the weight of his brother’s words heavy yet oddly comforting, as if they had planted a tiny seed of hope amid the tangled vines of his doubts.

Max’s fingers traced the edges of the canvas before him, his thoughts spiraling back to a time he'd tried so hard to leave behind—a memory that, despite his best efforts, had never fully released its grip on him.

It was four years ago when he'd been offered a similar arrangement, one that had come from Prince Callum of Eloria, an initially charming, kind-hearted young man from the respected kingdom of Eloria. Callum had seemed perfect, at least at first—his words soft, his gestures warm, and his smiles always reassuring. Max had almost believed that he’d finally found someone who might truly understand him, someone who might make all the royal demands worth it.

But things changed almost the moment they became engaged.

At first, it was subtle, little reminders from Callum about his "proper place" by the prince's side. A hand on his shoulder guiding him a step behind. A firm tone as he reminded Max of his "duty" to remain quietly obedient, to be a fixture in the palace rather than a partner. Soon, Callum's kindness began to slip away, leaving only control and dominance. He expected Max to comply without question, to fulfill whatever role Callum deemed appropriate.

Max shivered as he remembered how Callum had once tried to touch him, his hands rough and possessive. What should have been gestures of affection felt like shackles, each touch leaving behind a residue of dread rather than warmth. And though Max had refused, expressing his discomfort as best he could, it hadn’t been enough to stop Callum. The more Max resisted, the more Callum's anger flared, and the gentleness that had first won Max over vanished.

He still remembered the night he'd said “no,” his voice trembling yet firm, refusing to yield any further. Callum’s reaction had been swift and unforgiving. The slap had stung more than his face—it had bruised his pride, left a deep scar on his heart. Callum’s voice, sharp and venomous, had cut through the silence, belittling him, mocking his appearance. “You should be grateful I even chose you,” he had sneered, his words thick with scorn. “Acting like you're hard to get, as if anyone else would want you.”

Those words still haunted Max. Every time he thought about marriage, or heard his brother speak of alliances, the memories surged back like a tidal wave. He could still feel Callum's hand, rough and cold, as though it were brand new. The touch hadn’t brought comfort or connection; it had ignited a fierce, consuming fear that had remained buried in his heart ever since.

Three months passed in that misery, with each day a painful endurance test, until Julian had discovered the truth. It had become a scandal, a royal shock that traveled within the tall walls of the palace but thankfully never escaped them. Julian had put an end to it, had shielded Max from Callum’s grasp, yet even his brother’s intervention couldn’t erase the damage. It was a wound Max had carried with him ever since, a silent scar that bled every time marriage was mentioned.

Now, here he was, four years later, and nothing had truly changed. The fear lingered, shadowing his thoughts, playing cruel reminders whenever he tried to move forward. It wasn’t that he wanted to be alone forever, but the idea of binding himself to someone… of risking that pain again… seemed unbearable.

His mind snapped back to the present, to his brother’s plea, his reasoning. Julian only wanted what was best for him, Max knew that. But the wounds from the past held him back, reminding him of the danger hidden behind a kind face, the cruelty that could lie behind a smile.

As Max stared at his painting—the trapped bird in its gilded cage, surrounded by wealth yet caged nonetheless—he sighed. He wished, perhaps more than anything, that he could break free of this cage that fear had constructed around his heart.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

Author's Note

Hi, everyone!

I thought I'd drop this chapter today. I know it’s really sad, and honestly, I don’t even know why I made it this emotional. But I guess it needed to be said, right? This chapter dives into Max’s insecurities and fears—especially about marriage—and how his past keeps haunting him. I feel like it adds depth to the story and explains why he despises the idea of marriage so much.

Oh, and about the writing! I went for heavier English this time since the story is set in older times with royal families, so I felt it would fit the vibe. Hopefully, it worked!

On a different note, tomorrow is my finance and trade exam. Ugh, it’s a theory exam, so I basically have to cram everything and then, well, vomit it out on paper. It’s super boring, and I’m not even sure if I’ll remember anything after tomorrow. Honestly, I almost failed my last finance exam, so I’m really trying to do better this time. Fingers crossed!

As for the next chapter, I’m planning to post it on Sunday. It’s going to be a good one, and after that, we’ll get into some really exciting stuff. Oh, and Alex and Max will finally meet soon—so get ready for that!

Thanks for sticking around, and I hope you enjoy the chapter! Let me know your thoughts.

Love,

Sam