A Heart Entwined

Masks

sun rose slowly over the palace grounds, casting golden light through the sheer curtains of the imperial breakfast hall. Rich tapestries lined the walls, and the long table was already laden with delicacies—steamed dumplings, fresh fruits, spiced meat rolls, and delicate teas brewed from blossoms that only grew in the emperor’s private garden.

Emperor Kael sat at the head of the table, radiating quiet authority. At his left sat the Empress, serene and composed, her gaze flitting briefly over each guest with keen calculation. The invitation to this breakfast had come suddenly this morning. Every royal son—and their spouses—was expected to attend.

Rihan entered with Kiara quietly beside him. Though still pale from the night before, she carried herself with the dignity expected of a princess. As they approached the table, Kiara noticed the third prince already seated.

Prince Noam, the Emperor’s adopted son by his third wife, Lady Tevana, was silent and still. His silver robes blended with the marble hues of the table, and his presence was so quiet it was almost easy to overlook. But Kiara did not. Their eyes met briefly, and she gave him a small smile. He dipped his head in a quiet nod—one of the few people in the palace whose gaze didn’t carry judgment or curiosity.

Next to the Empress sat Seraya, Rihan’s elder sister. She was dressed in a deep crimson robe, her hair coiled into a towering braid adorned with rare gems. Though Rihan’s return should have moved her, she didn’t so much as glance in his direction.

Her husband, Lord Vessar, lounged beside her with a fox-like grin on his lips. The man oozed smugness, the kind born of quiet manipulations and whispered threats. His eyes danced between Rihan and Kiara as if calculating the weight they now held in court.

Breakfast began with polite exchanges—forced smiles, raised teacups, and the sound of silver against porcelain. The Crown Prince, Keanan, said little. Kiara only spoke when spoken to. The Emperor’s voice occasionally broke the stillness, commenting on politics or asking vague questions meant to test loyalty.

The Emperor and the Empress had something to attend to, and they left.

The tension simmered just beneath the surface.

Just moments after the Emperor and Empress excused themselves—summoned by court matters, they claimed—the atmosphere at the long, lacquered table began to shift.

What remained was a room full of unfinished tea and unspoken grievances.

Lord Vessar cleared his throat, his ever-practiced smile stretching across his face as he lifted a golden goblet.

“To the newlyweds,” he began smoothly, his voice loud enough to carry, “To my dear brother-in-law and the radiant Lady Kiara—may this union bring honor to the Empire and—”

He was cut short.

“Was I away for too long?” Rihan’s voice was calm, but it sliced through the room like tempered steel. “Did the rules change while I was gone? Since when does a son-in-law raise the first toast?”

Silence answered him. Vessar froze for half a heartbeat, but his grin remained intact.

Rihan turned his gaze deliberately toward Keanan, lounging with one arm slung over the back of his chair, his goblet already nearing empty.

“Do me the honor, brother,” Rihan said, the word soaked in mock warmth. “Or is that too much to ask?”

Keanan didn’t even look up. He swirled the wine in his cup, watching the liquid as though it held more value than anything in the room.

“I seem to have caught you at a bad time,” Rihan added, resting back with a look of playful disappointment. “Forgive me for assuming your presence meant you were... present.”

Kiara’s fingers curled into the folds of her gown. Keanan’s expression didn’t change, but his knuckles whitened around the goblet.

She leaned slightly forward. “Your Highness,” she said softly, hoping to break through the fog she saw creeping over his eyes. “Perhaps you should rest…"

Rihan stiffened, he felt like something just pierced his heart

Keanan finally glanced Kiara's way. It was only a flicker of recognition, but it left something sharp in her chest.

Then, Lord Vessar laughed—too loud, too quickly. “Ah, it’s good to see you haven’t lost your tongue, Prince Rihan. But if I may finish—”

“You may not,” Rihan said flatly.

It was a warning.

The room tensed. The adopted Third Prince, Noam, shifted uncomfortably but said nothing. Seraya, Rihan’s sister, kept her eyes focused on the polished teapot before her as though it were the most fascinating artifact in the empire.

Rihan stood.

“Come,” he said, turning to Kiara without looking at anyone else. “We’ve had enough courtly affection for one morning.”

She hesitated only briefly glancing Keanan's direction before rising. The guards at the edge of the room straightened, and all eyes followed them as they made their way out, heads held high.

Behind them, the silence swelled—then shattered into murmured speculation.

The room went cold.

----

They got to their room.

The doors slammed behind them. Kiara winced at the sound, but she didn’t stop walking until Rihan’s hand grabbed her wrist and spun her around.

“Let me go,” she snapped, yanking her arm. “Don’t touch me . "

Rihan stopped walking. His hand lingered in the air for a second before he let it fall to his side. His jaw clenched.

“You didn’t seem to mind my touch when we were dancing in front of them,” he said coldly. “Is it only when they’re not watching that you remember I’m the villain in your story?”

Kiara turned to face him, her eyes burning. “Don’t twist this. I was trying to keep up appearances. You said you wanted this marriage to look convincing, didn’t you?”

His eyes narrowed. “Convincing is one thing. Concern is another.”

Kiara frowned. “What?”

He stepped closer. Kiara stepped backward until her back hit a wall, feeling intimidated.

“You asked the Crown Prince to rest,” he said quietly. He stepped closer until he was only a few inches away from her . “In front of everyone.” he added.

He hit both his hands on the wall at her sides trapping her between them.

She blinked, caught off guard. “He looked unwell. I—”

“So did half the table. But you didn’t speak to any of them.”

Kiara stared at him, her voice softening but still guarded. “I was only being polite.”

“No,” he said, his tone sharper than before, “You were being concerned. And maybe you didn’t notice, but he didn’t care. He never does.”

There was a pause. A heavy one.

Kiara turned her face away. “You’re reading too much into it.”

“Am I?” he asked. “Because I noticed you didn’t speak to me at all this morning. But you don't have a problem, speaking with everybody else .”

“You made it easy,” she muttered under her breath, still not looking at him.

He let out a humorless laugh.

“I didn’t ask for this marriage,” she whispered.

Tears began to form in her eyes. She looked at him and his heart seized.

“I don’t know what you want from me.” She muttered.

Rihan's eyes softend. He was quiet for a long moment., staring at her

That struck a nerve.

Kiara looked up at him, her lips parted slightly, but no words came out.

"I'm tired," she finally said,her voice low .

He hated this.

Tears.

Especially when it was in her eyes. He fought the urge to bring his thumb to her face and wipe her tears.

He stepped away from her, moving backwards. He looked outside the window,at the small garden, near the fish pond. He didn't like flowers ,but he could only stare at them. He looked at everything else except at Kiara. Because looking at her might just break the last thread holding his heart together.

He shook his head slowly, as though disappointed with himself, and then he left the room hastily.

As soon as he left , Kiara slide down the wall on her back, pulling her knees to her chest . she cried silently .

They wouldn't give her a moment to breathe. It had only been a month since she came to terms with the painful truth—she could never be with the one she loved. And now, here she was, married to someone she thought she understood.

Just a day after the wedding, they were already making her sit across from him at the same table. No matter how hard she tried to deny it, the feelings hadn’t vanished. They lingered, stubborn and aching, refusing to disappear overnight.

Fate was being unbearably cruel.