Chapter 276: The Line Not to Cross

The thick velvet curtains dulled the grand ballroom’s roar, swallowing the music and chatter until only a distant hum slipped through.

Out on the balcony, the night air was cool and sharp, carrying the faint, clean scent of the royal gardens below, such a stark contrast to the heavy perfume and heat inside.

Flio and Karson stood far apart, their backs to the glittering glass doors, both quietly staring out over the dark palace grounds. The space between them was wide enough for three men to stand.

Karson leaned his hips back against the railing, his hands resting loosely on the edge. He didn’t look at the man beside him, keeping his eyes on the distant treetops swaying faintly under the moonlight.

"It’s weird," Karson began softly. "To be able to just stand here like this with you."

Flio didn’t move at all, standing straight with his hands clasped behind his back, eyes scanning the gardens. He looked every bit the unyielding Northern man he was raised to be. "Why?"

"Everything," Karson replied with a small, wistful sigh. He tilted his head back slightly, looking up at the clear night sky, where the stars felt far removed from everything happening below. "The ballroom, the people, the fact that we are breathing the same air without immediately trying to draw blood. Just... everything."

Flio’s jaw tightened a fraction under the pale moonlight. He knew the danger of letting his guard down around the Crown Prince’s right-hand man. "Once again, it is really hard to talk to you, Karson."

Despite the firmness in the tone, Karson gave a quiet, amused chuckle. He finally turned his head, his dark green hair shifting over his shoulder as he looked at Flio’s rigid profile. "But you still humor me anyway."

Flio didn’t deny it. He simply kept his eyes trained on the darkness, his silence acting as his only response. If he truly wanted to leave, he could have walked away the moment Karson approached him near the refreshment tables. Yet, here he was.

"Have I told you that you look good in a monocle?" Karson asked, his tone shifting into something lighter, a faint glint of teasing fondness in his eyes.

Flio didn’t hesitate, his voice entirely flat and deadpan as he stared straight ahead. "Twice."

Karson nodded, a genuine, quiet smile pulling at the corners of his lips as he let out a soft breath. "Right."

Flio glanced briefly at Karson before looking ahead again. "I believe you didn’t ask me to come out here just to tell me I look good in a monocle, Karson."

Karson’s gaze softened. "I was just thinking..." he started. "Do you remember our days at the academy? Back when everything was so incredibly simple. All we ever had to worry about was keeping our grades up, outperforming each other in classes, and making sure we graduated at the top of the list."

A brief flicker of emotion passed through Flio’s eyes, gone so quickly that a normal observer would have missed it entirely. But Karson didn’t miss it. Back then, they weren’t aides bound to opposing masters, they were just two ambitious young men pushing each other to their absolute limits.

"Right," Flio said quietly.

The music from the ballroom leaked out in muffled, vibrating pulses beneath the doors, but neither of them moved to break the quiet. They simply stood in silence, the noisy, gossip-filled ballroom inside feeling worlds away from the heavy quiet of the balcony.

After what felt like an eternity, Karson finally shifted his weight, his eyes lingering on Flio’s tense, rigid shoulders. "Are you okay, Flio? All these years... have you been well?"

Flio turned his head and looked Karson straight in the eye. "I am standing right here. Limb intact, every organ functioning properly. So yes, I am fine."

Karson stared at him for a beat. A soft, breathless laugh escaped Karson, and he nodded gently, his shoulders relaxing just a bit. "Good. It’s good that you are okay."

"I see that you are doing quite well too," Flio countered. "Right by His Highness’s side, helping him with his little agenda against the Duke and the North."

Karson chuckled again, though this time there was a trace of bitter irony in the sound. He didn’t attempt to deny the accusation. In the game of thrones they played, everyone had an agenda, and he was simply playing the hand he had been dealt. He looked at Flio, his eyes tracing the familiar hard lines of the Duke’s aide’s face under the moonlight. "You really never change, do you?"

"I want to go back inside," Flio stated flatly, completely ignoring the comment. He took a single step back, already shifting to turn away from the railing and return inside. He had already stayed out here longer than he should have.

But before he could step out of reach, Karson’s hand shot forward. His fingers wrapped firmly around Flio’s wrist, stopping him in his tracks.

The touch was sudden, a direct violation of the physical distance they had maintained since stepping outside. But Flio didn’t immediately rip his arm away or reach for his hidden blade. Instead, he froze, his body locking into an incredibly tense stance as he stared down at the hand holding him fast.

"Is it okay," Karson murmured, his voice catching slightly in his throat as he stepped a little closer, closing the gap until his breath warmed the cold night air between them, "if I say that I miss us?"

Flio slowly lifted his head, his eyes narrowing as he stared directly into Karson’s face.

"Why you feel the need to say that now is astonishing to me," Flio replied. He looked down at the grip on his wrist, his expression turning colder, though he still didn’t pull away. "You knew from the very beginning that nothing between us was ever meant to last, Karson."

Karson didn’t loosen his grip, his thumb pressing lightly against Flio’s arm through the thick fabric, desperate for a sign that the man in front of him felt even a fraction of the same ache.

"We are both alphas," Flio continued, his words cutting through the lingering sentimentality with absolute, brutal logic. He laid out the truth bare, refusing to wrap it in pretty illusions. "And more than that... we both stand on entirely opposite sides of a war that has already begun. There was never a future for us."

Karson’s expression fell. He looked at Flio, his grip tightening just a fraction, as if trying to hold onto something from the past that was already slipping away.

A bittersweet, painful smile pulled at the corner of Karson’s lips as he looked deeply into Flio’s eyes.

"So," Karson whispered, his voice barely louder than the rustle of the wind through the garden leaves, "it’s not because we stopped caring for each other, right?"