Rihaan slammed his bedroom door open. One of his maids rushed over and took his jacket, hanging it neatly.
The crown prince removed his hat and muffler, handing them to another servant without a word.
Once the room was empty, the door shut, and he walked toward the left corner of the room, where a large canvas stood hidden beneath a white cloth.
With a swift tug, the cloth fell on the floor, revealing the portrait hidden beneath it.
Rihaan’s expression softened the moment his eyes met the painted figure.
He reached out, fingertips brushing gently against the canvas.
"I miss you..." He murmured.
A quiet knock sounded before the door opened just enough for a tall man to step inside. His broad figure was framed in armour, glimmering under the glow of the chandeliers.
Jihan closed the door behind him, his eyes falling on the uncovered portrait.
He sighed.
"So you’re here. I heard from the servants that you went on an outing with the Imperial Crown Prince. How was your date?" he asked, stepping forward.
Rihaan didn’t turn, recognizing the voice right away.
"It wasn’t a date."
"Don’t tell me you went to ask him to cancel the engagement again," Jihan sighed, shaking his head.
"If you’re here to lecture me, save your breath. And when did you even get here?"
"Your father sent me first thing this morning as soon as he received the engagement card."
"Of course he wouldn’t let this golden chance slide," Rihaan scoffed, finally glancing at his friend’s face—exhausted. "You’ve arrived fast, then."
"Hah." Jihan folded his arms proudly. "Is there anyone faster than us, beasts? And among them, my race is the—"
"I know. No need to repeat this every time," Rihaan interrupted immediately, unable to hold it in.
Being a cheetah, Jihan was part of the fastest of all beastmen.
"Alright, I won’t. But... you should just go along with the engagement," he said plainly. "And let your so-called love be."
Rihaan’s eyes narrowed, his hazel gaze meeting Jihan’s dark one.
"You’re being rude now. You don’t get to tell me what to do," he said sharply.
"...I’m also your best friend," Jihan replied, unfazed. "Which is exactly why I’m saying this. You’re clinging to someone who doesn’t deserve it. And if you keep fighting the engagement, you’ll only hurt yourself more."
Rihaan’s jaw tightened.
But he couldn’t deny it—Jihan never sugar-coated anything, especially when it came to him.
"Why are you always talking against Arav?" Rihaan snapped.
Jihan dragged a hand down his face, exasperated, then slapped his palm lightly onto his forehead.
"Because I was there, Rihaan," he said bluntly. "I watched him choose his career, his reputation, and his comfort over you—every single time."
He pointed at the portrait.
"And you still look at him like he was the sun, the moon to you."
Rihaan clenched his fists.
"He is... You just don’t understand—"
"I understand perfectly," Jihan cut him off. "You loved him. You still do. But he didn’t fight for you when the king asked if he wanted to marry you. Not once did he fight for you. And now you’re about to throw your entire future away for a man who wouldn’t even hold your hand in public."
Rihaan’s breath hitched, his eyes dropping to the floor.
He hated how Jihan’s words found the cracks he tried so hard to hide.
"He loves me. He is just... an omega. He can’t stand up against so many people. Especially his father, who wants him to marry some alpha woman."
"And you believe him? Just... think, Rihaan," Jihan said, his tone dropping, a little softer now but still deep. "At least this engagement gives you a chance to move forward. Maybe even heal."
Rihaan swallowed, unable to respond. How could he even think of anyone other than Arav? His chest tightened at the thought alone.
Silence stretched in the air for a long moment. Jihan lowered himself onto the couch, watching Rihaan admire the painting as if he were analyzing the national art piece of their kingdom.
"When is Father coming?" the Crown Prince finally asked, breaking the stillness in the room.
"You finally spoke. I thought you had gone—" Jihan bit the inside of his cheek, stopping himself before he said the word mute.
Even if they were friends, disrespect could still cost him his life. But what was he supposed to do with a man who chose to blindfold himself for someone who claimed to love him yet never once stood up for their relationship?
"I had?" Rihaan raised an eyebrow, turning to face the knight.
Jihan shook his head—far too quickly.
"I mean, he will be here soon. The Emperor didn’t want to delay the engagement, especially with the date approaching."
Rihaan didn’t answer, his eyes drifting back to the portrait. He gently brushed his fingers over the strand of pink hair, then over the glimmering amber eyes and pale skin, imagining as if Arav stood before him.
"Your Highness?" Jihan coughed, trying to pull him back, but Rihaan didn’t react.
"Ah, love," he murmured, leaning back against the couch as he looked up at the ceiling.
The chandeliers glimmered like clusters of stars, their light keeping the room bright—yet the darkness of the night outside the room still felt deep enough to swallow that brightness whole.
Maybe that was the kind of love Rihaan had for Arav.
"Your Highness?" Jihan called again, and this time, he received a faint hum in response.
"I was thinking... why haven’t you given up yet? Do you not like the Imperial Crown Prince? Is he not pretty?"
Rihaan shot him a sharp glare, eyebrows knitting together.
"Beauty has nothing to do with this."
Jihan’s mouth parted slightly, confused.
"Wait... so you mean he is pretty?"
"Don’t put words into my mouth."
"But you said beauty isn’t the problem. That means he’s handsome!" Jihan clapped his hands, though his expression remained anything but excited.
"Just... Think whatever you want to," the Crown Prince lowered his gaze. He could no longer argue with this man.