Chapter 7

Max stood in the garden courtyard, surrounded by the soft hum of palace life. The maids were tidying up the flowerbeds, while some of the attendants lingered, listening to Max as he shared stories about Alex. His voice was tinged with a mix of excitement and fondness, a rare warmth that hadn’t been heard from the usually reserved prince.

“He’s so… thoughtful,” Max admitted, smiling softly. “I mean, you’d expect a royal to be polite and all, but Alex… he genuinely listens. Like when we were in the library, he didn’t just skim through my poems—he asked about them, wanted to know what they meant.”

One of the younger attendants, Mina, giggled. “He sounds perfect, Your Highness. Like a storybook prince.”

Max chuckled, shaking his head. “He’s not perfect, Mina. He teases a lot too—calls me out on my seriousness. But… it’s nice. It’s different.”

As he spoke, he noticed his mother, the Queen mother, approaching from the main hall. She looked much healthier than she had a few days ago, though there was still a touch of tiredness in her smile.

“Maximilian,” she called, her voice gentle. “There you are. I’ve been looking for you.”

Max turned to her, a bit surprised but happy to see her out and about. “Mother. How are you feeling?”

“Much better, thank you,” she said as she reached him, taking his hands in hers. “Though I’m still a bit cross with myself for missing most of Alex’s visit. I only had a brief chat with him before he left. He seemed lovely.”

Max nodded, his expression softening. “He is. He’s… different from what I expected. Kind, sincere, and… well, remarkable.”

Her eyes sparkled as she smiled knowingly. “I’ve heard quite a bit about him. You’ve been speaking of him often, it seems.”

Max hesitated, his cheeks warming slightly. “Maybe a little.”

The queen tilted her head, her tone light and teasing. “I’ve also heard that Alex has a particular taste in people. Apparently, he’s drawn to those who are compassionate, grounded, and who carry themselves with quiet strength. Sound familiar?”

Max blinked, caught off guard. “I… I don’t know about that, Mother.”

She squeezed his hand reassuringly. “Well, I think it’s obvious why he likes you, Max. You’re all those things and more. He’d be lucky to have you.”

The maids and attendants around them murmured their agreement, nodding with bright smiles. Max felt a mixture of pride and nervousness bloom in his chest.

“He’s nice,” Max admitted, though his voice was softer now. “But… I’m still not sure about everything. It’s a lot.”

She gave him an encouraging look. “It’s natural to feel unsure, my dear. Just take it one step at a time. And if you ever feel overwhelmed, there are ways to ease your mind.” She paused, studying him thoughtfully. “In fact, I think you could use some relaxation. How about a visit to the royal spa?”

Max blinked, caught off guard by the suggestion. “The spa?”

“Yes,” she said with a smile. “A nice massage, a steam bath—something to help you unwind. What do you think?”

Max hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. “If you think it’s a good idea, Mother, I’ll go.”

“Excellent,” she said, clapping her hands lightly. “Let’s head there together. A bit of pampering will do us both some good.”

As they made their way to the spa, Max couldn’t help but feel a little lighter. Maybe his mother was right—about the spa, about Alex, and about everything else. Perhaps he just needed to take things as they came.

Max lay on his stomach on the plush massage table, his body sinking slightly into the soft fabric beneath him. His face rested in the circular headrest, his skin exposed to the gentle warmth of a steam diffuser placed nearby. The room was bathed in the faint glow of golden light from low-hanging lanterns, their flickering reflections dancing on the polished wood walls. The faint scent of sandalwood and lavender wafted through the air, carried by the slow-burning incense sticks nestled in a small bronze holder by the corner.

His broad shoulders, defined and strong, tapered into a lean frame that exuded both elegance and power. The masseuse's hands worked skillfully over his back, kneading out the tension in his muscles. Despite his commanding stature, there was an undeniable softness to Max—a quiet beauty in the contrast of his strength and serenity. His pale skin, flawless and cool to the touch, seemed to glow under the warm light, accentuating the sharp lines of his shoulder blades and the smooth curve of his neck.

“You carry so much tension, Your Highness,” the masseuse said, her voice soft and respectful.

Max hummed in response, the sound muffled by the headrest. “It’s unavoidable, I suppose. The duties of a prince don’t come lightly.”

“Even so,” she replied, her hands gliding over his shoulders, “you should take moments like these more often. Your body deserves rest too.”

Max smiled faintly, though the masseuse couldn’t see it. “Perhaps you’re right. It’s… nice. Peaceful.”

The steam rising from the diffuser enveloped his face in a gentle mist, opening his pores and easing his breathing. He closed his eyes, letting the calmness of the moment seep into his mind. The faint crackle of the incense and the soothing rhythm of the masseuse’s hands seemed to dissolve the weight of his responsibilities, if only for a little while.

The door to the room creaked open slightly, and one of the attendants peeked in. “Your Highness, is everything to your liking?”

Max tilted his head slightly, his pale cheek catching the golden light. “It is,” he said, his voice low and relaxed. “The scent… it’s comforting. Did you choose it?”

The attendant nodded, smiling. “Yes, Your Highness. Lavender is said to ease the mind, and sandalwood promotes clarity. It seemed fitting.”

“You’ve done well,” Max murmured. “Thank you.”

The attendant bowed and quietly exited the room, leaving Max alone with the masseuse.

As her hands moved to the center of his back, the masseuse paused for a moment, letting her gaze linger on the peaceful prince. “If I may, Your Highness,” she said hesitantly, “you have a striking presence. Strong, yet… gentle. It’s rare to see someone carry both.”

Max chuckled softly, the sound deep and warm. “You’re far too kind.”

“No, Your Highness,” she insisted, her voice unwavering. “It’s simply the truth.”

He didn’t respond immediately, letting the silence stretch. The soft music playing in the background filled the quiet, mingling with the faint crackle of the incense.

“Perhaps,” Max finally said, his voice distant, “it’s not strength at all. Just… a façade. But even façades need care, I suppose.”

The masseuse didn’t reply, sensing the weight of his words. Instead, she continued her work, her hands moving with a rhythm that matched the prince’s measured breaths.

For the first time in a long while, Max felt a moment of clarity—a rare stillness in his otherwise stormy mind. And though his duties and uncertainties loomed large, for now, he allowed himself to simply be.

In Ashbourne

The grand hall of Ashbourne was adorned with winter’s light as the royal court gathered. A courier entered with the scroll sealed with Vireli’s insignia. Trumpets signaled the announcement, and the murmurs among the nobles quieted as the courier bowed before King Julien.

“Your Majesty, a message from the Kingdom of Vireli,” the courier announced, presenting the scroll.

Julien accepted it, carefully breaking the seal. His eyes scanned the elegant script, and he allowed a rare smile to cross his face. “The royal family of Vireli has accepted our proposal. Prince Alexandros has agreed to marry Prince Maximilian.”

A polite round of applause rippled through the court. Max, standing a little to the side, felt a wave of relief and happiness wash over him.

Queen Mary, seated next to Julien, clapped lightly, her expression unreadable. Later, in the quiet of her chambers, she vented to her trusted lady-in-waiting.

“It’s a mistake,” Mary said, her voice low but sharp. “Maximilian is reckless and unworthy of this union. Alexandros may not know it yet, but he will regret this.”

The lady-in-waiting hesitated but nodded respectfully. “Your Majesty, do you think the king should know your concerns?”

“No,” Mary snapped, then softened her tone. “Julien has made his decision, but I’ll not celebrate it. This... farce will unravel itself in time.”

Meanwhile, Max lingered in the gardens, watching the frost sparkle on the hedges. He thought of Alex, his quiet strength, and the connection they’d begun to build. For a moment, he allowed himself to hope that this union could bring something good into his life.

In Vireli

The great hall of Vireli was a picture of opulence as sunlight streamed through stained-glass windows. The royal family gathered as a herald approached King Alistair with a sealed scroll.

“Your Majesty, a message from Ashbourne,” the herald announced.

Alistair accepted the scroll and broke the seal, his voice resonating as he read, “The royal family of Ashbourne has accepted our proposal. Prince Maximilian has agreed to marry Prince Alexandros.”

A murmur of approval swept through the room. Alex stood beside his father, barely able to contain his smile.

Meanwhile, Alex stood on a balcony overlooking the bustling streets of Vireli. His thoughts drifted to Max—their moments together, the way Max’s quiet resolve had made him feel both at ease and seen. For the first time in a long while, Alex felt genuinely excited about the future.

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The Princes’ Thoughts

In Ashbourne, Max found himself pacing his chambers. The memory of Alex’s warmth and kindness lingered, but so did the ever-present doubts planted by his past. Could this union truly be the start of something better?

In Vireli, Alex sat by his window, gazing at the moonlit cityscape. He thought of Max’s steady gaze and how it had made him feel grounded. Despite the shadows of doubt in his family, Alex felt sure of one thing: Max was worth the fight.

And so, preparations for their union began, the kingdoms moving forward with hope, even as quiet whispers of discontent lingered in the shadows.