Sunlight, now just a muted, golden wash thanks to the heavy velvet curtains, filled Vaelorian's private chambers. For the first time in what felt like forever—a string of days and nights haunted by fear and uncertainty—they woke up not in a panic, but in peace.
Riven was tucked securely against Vaelorian, his breathing a soft, steady rhythm, his arm thrown possessively over the Prince's chest.
Vaelorian shifted slightly, a long sigh of pure contentment escaping him, and ran a gentle hand over the strong, familiar curve of Riven's shoulder.
"You know," Vaelorian murmured, his voice thick with sleep and the lingering wonder of their reality. "This is better than any dream I've ever had about waking up next to you."
Riven grumbled, a low, pleased sound deep in his chest, and shifted, leaning up just enough to press a kiss to Vaelorian's neck.
"It's certainly a more realistic and peaceful one than the ones I've had, Your Highness," Riven replied, his own voice still hoarse with morning. "In this one, we're still breathing, and our heads are still attached to our necks. We're still together. And," he paused to nuzzle the Prince's collarbone, "nobody has screamed 'Treason!' yet."
"And nobody has tried to kick me in the shin either," Vaelorian noted with a satisfied, sleepy smirk, gently tracing the line of Riven's jaw. "I'd say we're making plenty of progress."
Riven let out a genuine, joyful laugh, pulling back slightly so he could look into Vaelorian's sleepy, loving eyes.
"We are. It's a good feeling, Your Highness. Waking up and not being terrified that a palace guard is going to burst in and drag us off to the dungeons." He sighed, letting his head settle back onto the pillow. "I guess this means, no more sneaking around for us."
"You're right. I missed this so much," Vaelorian confessed, his gaze softening as he pulled Riven closer again. "I missed waking up next to the smartest, handsomest, most competent Lord in the Empire." He paused, his tone shifting to light excitement. "Speaking of things you might miss... I have a surprise."
Riven arched an eyebrow, a playful skepticism in his eyes. "Is it an Imperial contract for more warhorses?"
"Better," Vaelorian winked, his eyes sparkling. "Two friends of yours are coming to visit. Lady Anya and Ambassador Mira Lune."
Riven's eyes lit up instantly, all sleep banished by pure, surprised delight. "Anya and Mira Lune? Seriously? That's amazing! It's been too long!"
Vaelorian smiled warmly at his reaction. "I thought you'd want to see them. Anya is a full-time healer here in the Capital now, you know, though she still misses the field. I had to pull a few strings to get Mira Lune out of her current envoy mission to the West. They're going to be here later this evening."
Later that evening, after court duties were done and the stifling formality of the day had been shed, Riven, Barron, and Willow met with Anya and Mira Lune in a private dining hall. The reunion was loud, warm, and exactly what Riven needed after months of intense, grueling stress.
Anya, with her kind eyes and famously bubbly demeanor, rushed forward and hugged Riven tightly, her voice thick with emotion.
"Riven! You beautiful idiot. Look at you, all in uniform and back at the Palace! We were so worried after..."
"We don't talk about that," Riven cut in with a sheepish, knowing smile, squeezing her back before holding her at arm's length.
"That's in the past, Anya. We talk about the future."
Mira Lune, always vibrant and effortlessly charismatic, swept in next and clapped Riven on the back with a hearty laugh.
"Exactly! I knew you wouldn't let a little thing like that stop you! And Barron and Willow! It's fantastic to have the whole team back together, even if we are indoors."
Barron raised his glass, the crystal catching the dim light. "To the return of our formidable friends, and to the downfall of our enemies."
"Hear, hear!" Willow and the others echoed.
The friends fell into easy, overlapping conversation, catching up on Mira Lune's intense outreach work and Anya's struggles with Imperial bureaucracy that were far worse than any bandit raid. It felt like old times—the easy camaraderie of the camp, minus the mud and the relentless drills.
The lively conversation paused into a comfortable silence when the heavy oak doors opened and Vaelorian entered, looking every inch the composed and elegant Prince. He had purposely waited, giving Riven time with his friends first.
"Good evening, everyone," Vaelorian greeted them, offering a polite, friendly smile as he approached the table.
Anya and Mira Lune stood immediately, offering formal, graceful curtseys and bows—a stark contrast to their relaxed chatter moments before.
"Your Highness," Mira Lune said, her tone suddenly professional and formal, the easygoing Ambassador replaced by the practiced diplomat.
Vaelorian walked over to Riven and placed a warm, possessive hand on his shoulder.
"I hope the food is to your liking? Riven," he asked, looking at him, "I hope you found your friends in good health?"
Riven looked up at Vaelorian, his eyes shining with open gratitude and a familiar, deep affection.
"The best of health, Your Highness. I've missed these two so much."
It was Anya who stepped forward first, her voice soft but firm—a tone that indicated the joking was over and seriousness had begun.
"Prince Vaelorian, we are all thrilled that your betrothal is off and that Riven is back where he belongs. Congratulations."
Then, Mira Lune stepped up beside her, her friendly smile replaced by a fierce, protective expression that promised violence to anyone who harmed Riven.
"But let us be very clear, Your Highness."
Mira Lune leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a low, intense warning. "We'll forgive you for breaking his heart this once," she stated, her eyes narrowing. "But if you ever hurt Riven again—if you ever make him feel like less of a man, or if you even allow others look at him wrong—we, your loyal subjects and his best friends, will make your life an absolute misery. Do you understand what am saying, Your Highness?"
The threat was delivered with a complete lack of malice, just cold, absolute certainty. Barron and Willow stood quietly behind them, nodding their full agreement, their faces completely serious. Vaelorian was momentarily taken aback by the united front. He looked at the faces of Riven's fiercely loyal friends—the very people he needed to trust him—and he gave a sincere, deep bow of his head.
"I understand completely," Vaelorian said, meeting Mira Lune's challenging gaze with one of solemn sincerity. "You have my word. I will never hurt him again. He means the world to me."
Anya smiled, the warmth instantly returning to her eyes. "Good. Then welcome to the group, Vaelorian."
Mira Lune nodded, the intensity melting away, a brilliant smile replacing the threat.
"Please, come sit with us, Your Highness. We have so many things we want to know about you."
And just like that, with a solemn threat and shared laughter, the friends officially welcomed Vaelorian into their circle.