— Years Ago —
The summer breeze swept through the classroom’s large windows. It was a rather warm day, though none of the students could tell, thanks to the coolers installed throughout the hall.
"Good morning, everyone. My name is Alec Blake. I will be your history teacher from today onwards," the man standing at the front of the classroom said, smiling brightly.
Soren sat in the first row, a grin tugging at his lips.
Finally, the day he had been waiting for had arrived. He was now going to study at the top academy in the world—one where omegas had once been forbidden.
Because of a law passed a decade ago, omegas were slowly being allowed into the building, and fewer people objected in Revhara.
Nobles from across the continents came just to study at R&R Academy and learn the ways of the empire, in hopes of finding a good position once they graduated, whether in Revhara or in their own lands.
On his desk, Soren had carefully placed a few papers stitched together like a notebook, an unopened bottle of ink, and a quill.
Sitting in the front row, everyone’s attention lingered on him. However, it didn’t bother him; he was used to such stares—be it admiration or hostility.
Just as the teacher parted his lips, the classroom door slammed open.
A tall young man stood at the threshold, panting. He had clearly run all the way from the dorms, his face glistening with sweat. He quickly dabbed his handkerchief against his skin, wiping it away.
"I apologize," the man said, inclining his head slightly before heading to the last row and sitting down. He carried a bag with him containing the necessary study materials, which he took out one by one.
The noise began to bother Soren, who tried to focus on the teacher’s every word. He hadn’t come here to waste time as most nobles did. He needed to learn—he was meant to lead an entire empire, one upon which countless kingdoms depended.
The first class wasn’t very long and ended quickly.
Exhaling sharply, Soren rose to his feet and walked toward the tan-skinned man who had been making noise from the moment he entered the classroom.
"Please be on time next time," he said simply before turning on his heel and walking away. He didn’t bother asking for the man’s name. All he needed was punctuality and silence.
What he wanted was simple.
But the young man, Rihaan Devraat didn’t take it lightly.
The laughter of his classmates echoed in his mind, and he swore to make this man pay for his humiliation.
***
For the next few days, Rihaan went out of his way to be as irritating as possible.
He arrived late on purpose, dragging his chair across the floor before sitting down.
During lectures, he whispered to the students beside him, laughed a little too loudly, and asked questions that had already been answered or had nothing to do with the subject taught.
Whenever the teacher’s back was turned, his gaze would drift toward the front row, lingering on Soren as if daring him to react.
Soren never did.
He remained perfectly still, eyes fixed on the board, quill moving steadily across the page.
Not once did he turn around.
Not once did his expression change.
It was as though Rihaan didn’t exist at all and he was gifted with the world’s most powerful weapon—unlimited patience.
That, more than any reprimand, infuriated Rihaan.
By the end of the week, the classroom had begun to notice.
Whispers followed them—curious glances, suppressed smiles.
Some students watched eagerly, waiting for the inevitable confrontation.
Others simply enjoyed the tension, the silent clash between the composed Crown Prince of Revhara in the front row and the restless Crown Prince of Danshin in the back.
Soren, however, seemed oblivious to it all.
Or perhaps, he simply refused to acknowledge it.
***
It was after physician training that Soren found him.
Rihaan was crouched behind one of the tall trees bordering the training grounds, shoulders trembling as he tried—and failed—to steady his breathing. His face was buried in his hands, tears slipping through his fingers and darkening the grass beneath him.
Soren froze, eyes widening.
Of all the things he had expected to find, this was not one of them.
He hesitated before stepping closer.
"Why are you crying?"
Rihaan stiffened. He hadn’t realized someone was still here. He was certain everyone had already returned to the dorms.
He quickly wiped his face with his sleeve and turned away, clearly annoyed at being seen in such a state.
"Of all people... Why should I tell you?" He rolled his eyes.
Soren inhaled deeply before sitting next to the young man.
"Maybe you will feel lighter?" He shrugged. "But you don’t have to if you don’t want to talk about it."
"..."
Rihaan didn’t say anything, staring at the trees. Then, he parted his lips slowly.
"I... miss my lover," he muttered. "We were together for almost a decade," he continued quietly. "We have never been apart for this long. He always stayed at the palace with me ever since his parents died."
Soren’s brows knit together.
"Your parents allowed it?"
He heard that Danshin was a rather conservative kingdom. For them to allow that was a little surprising.
Rihaan let out a short, forced laugh. He scratched his cheek, gaze lowering—whether from nerves or embarrassment, it was hard to tell.
"Well... I fought them," he admitted. "For years. I won in the end. Or at least, I thought I did. Until they decided to send me here..."
For a moment, he said nothing. The silence stretched, awkward and uncomfortable.
"I don’t even know if he is eating properly," Rihaan murmured. "Or if he is sleeping. He always pretended he was fine when he wasn’t."
His shoulders shook once before he forced himself to straighten.
"I hate that I can’t protect him now."
Soren blinked.
"Oh? But you are young—"
"What do you mean?!" Rihaan snapped, frowning deeply as he finally glanced at him.
Soren chuckled before he could stop himself.
"Alright," he said lightly. "You just remind me of my younger brother, with the way you act."
Rihaan glared at him, eyes still red.
Soren straightened, his expression sobering.
"I apologize."
"You should," Rihaan huffed. "Also, I am older than you. By three years."
Soren tilted his head, taken aback.
"How do you know? I am certain I haven’t told anyone my age."
"Do you think I make enemies without doing any background checks, Your Imperial Highness? It’s not that hard to know when you are the Crown Prince of the Empire," Rihaan shot back.
Soren smiled softly. It was rare to find someone like Rihaan—someone who wasn’t two-faced, who didn’t bother hiding his intentions behind polite smiles.
"That’s good," Soren said. "Because I don’t bully anyone."
"I don’t either."
Soren looked at Rihaan suspiciously, his doubtful gaze clearly asking: Are you serious?
That was the first time they had shared a real conversation. The first time Rihaan had spoken openly and Soren had truly listened.
In that quiet moment behind the tree, the strange ice that had always hung between them began to crack, and they grew a little closer— as friends.