Chapter 434: One Mistake Too Many

Chapter 434: Chapter 434: One Mistake Too Many

The reception had been going remarkably well.

That alone should have warned Arik something was about to ruin it.

The western ballroom of the Alexandrian palace opened into the adjoining winter garden, where tall glass doors let guests move between warm candlelight and the colder night air beyond. Music carried softly beneath conversation, servers circulated with champagne and late-evening dishes, and Rex had finally stopped looking like a king responsible for several hundred foreign dignitaries.

He was dancing with Mara.

Liam stood several meters away near Enia and Mirelle, laughing at something Samuel had said while Ayla tried to steal a dessert from his plate. Cecil had already managed to tell three additional people about his pregnancy and looked increasingly pleased every time Arik noticed.

Arik was considering whether throwing his brother into a decorative fountain would violate Rex’s prohibition against violence when Gerard appeared beside him.

"We need to talk."

Arik looked at him.

Gerard wore the same burgundy formal coat from the ceremony, although several buttons had been opened after dinner. His face was flushed from alcohol and warmth, and his confidence had apparently recovered now that he stood inside a crowded royal reception where he assumed nobody could touch him.

Arik took a drink from his glass.

"Do we?"

Gerard smiled as though Arik had made a joke.

"Privately."

He did not wait for agreement.

He simply turned toward one of the balconies overlooking the lower gardens, moving with the expectation that Arik would follow.

Arik stared at his back.

Across the room, Liam caught his eye.

Arik raised his glass slightly.

Liam’s expression became suspicious.

Arik smiled.

That probably made it worse.

Still, he followed.

The balcony doors closed behind them, muffling the music immediately.

Cold air settled against Arik’s face. Below, the palace gardens stretched beneath small lamps and bare winter trees, with patches of old snow remaining in the shadows along the stone paths. The balcony itself was broad and partially sheltered by heavy columns, private enough that Gerard clearly believed he had found the perfect place for whatever conversation he intended to control.

Gerard placed both hands on the balustrade.

"You have been avoiding me."

"I came for a wedding."

"You always have an excuse."

Arik leaned against one of the columns.

Gerard turned.

"You know this situation between our countries cannot continue indefinitely."

"What situation?"

Gerard frowned.

"The constant hostility."

Arik nearly laughed.

"You funded interference in my government."

"Still repeating that?"

"You fabricated a marriage involving Liam’s sister."

"I already told you that was media speculation."

"And now you are annoyed because I dislike you."

Gerard’s mouth tightened.

"This is exactly the problem with you."

Arik lifted one eyebrow.

Gerard stepped closer.

"You let personal feelings dictate everything."

That was rich enough that Arik almost enjoyed it.

Gerard continued before he could respond.

"A ruler needs distance. Discipline. You cannot keep allowing that little mate of yours to make decisions simply because something crosses his pretty head."

The amusement vanished.

Arik did not move.

Gerard noticed nothing.

"He interferes in your social policy, appears beside ministers, involves himself in infrastructure, talks publicly about whatever issue catches his interest, and everyone around you pretends that is normal."

Arik’s voice became very quiet.

"Liam is Empress Consort."

"Exactly. Consort."

Gerard gestured dismissively toward the ballroom behind them.

"A pretty omega beside the throne. That should have been enough."

Arik stared at him.

Gerard mistook silence for attention.

"Omegas are pleasant when they understand their position. Attractive. Useful for heirs and appearances. Some are charming enough to influence a room if you let them."

Arik’s fingers tightened around his glass.

Gerard continued.

"But intelligence?" He laughed. "Governance? Strategy? You know better than that."

Something inside Arik became perfectly still.

Gerard stepped closer as though sharing wisdom between kings.

"You are too young in certain ways. Perhaps whatever old memories you inherited confused the issue. But a ruler cannot hand power to someone because he enjoys fucking him."

Arik set his glass on the stone railing.

Gerard did not see the warning.

"I learned that early. Never give a consort authority. Never let them think affection means equality. You keep them comfortable, give them jewelry, children if they want them, whatever makes them happy enough not to become inconvenient."

Arik looked through the glass doors.

Liam was still inside.

He had turned slightly now, crimson eyes searching through the crowd.

Probably looking for him.

Arik loved him so much it occasionally felt like another organ beneath his ribs.

Gerard was still talking.

"If I were you, I would put an end to this before he embarrasses you further. Especially now that everyone is already talking about children. Once there is an heir, you cannot have an omega running around believing his opinions matter because you happen to be obsessed with him."

Arik turned back.

Gerard smiled.

Then added, almost lazily, "Pretty little thing, though. I understand why you keep him entertained."

Arik moved.

Gerard never finished whatever he intended to say next.

Arik’s hand closed around his throat.

His palm was large enough to span nearly everything beneath Gerard’s jaw, fingers locking along the back of his neck before the king could even inhale properly.

Gerard’s eyes widened.

Arik lifted him; Gerard’s heels scraped uselessly against the stone.

His hands flew to Arik’s wrist.

"Ar—"

Arik drove him backward.

Gerard’s head struck the stone column with a brutal crack.

The sound cut through the balcony.

Gerard went limp for half a second.

Arik did not release him.

He pulled him forward again.

Gerard gasped, dazed, one hand clawing weakly at Arik’s forearm.

Then Arik slammed him back into the stone a second time, harder this time.

Blood appeared immediately along Gerard’s hairline.

His knees buckled.

Arik kept him upright by the throat.

Gold ether gathered around his hand, winding between his fingers like something furious enough to understand exactly what Gerard had said.

Gerard blinked at him, struggling to focus.

For the first time since arriving in Wrohan, he looked afraid.

Arik leaned closer.

"You have spent years misunderstanding me."

Gerard tried to breathe.

Arik’s grip tightened.

"You thought my patience meant you were safe."

His gold eyes burned brighter.

"You thought Liam was a weakness."

Gerard’s face was turning red beneath Arik’s hand.

Arik smiled without warmth.

"You would have lived a few more days if you had just kept your mouth shut."