Page 25

Draevyn

A cascade of candle-lit chandeliers cast a warm, golden glow across the grand ballroom’s marble floor.

The air was filled with the melody of a waltz as couples swirled around the dancefloor, their laughter and conversations filtering through the air.

The room was alive with the shimmer of silks and the flash of jewels as nobility from every kingdom in Rymelle mingled for the first time in centuries.

Draevyn rolled up the cuffs of his navy tailored jacket adorned with gold embellishments. The truth was, he had never felt more out of place.

This wasn’t him—it was Atlas. He didn’t belong here and hadn’t in a long time.

Not where he was forced to wear a smile on his face, shake hands, and politely nod at everyone who walked by.

His brother lived for events like this, always seeing them as a way to meet beautiful women and take as many as he could to his bed, usually all at once. But Draevyn had never been that way.

Of course, he’d had women in his life before, but none he ever took seriously. Why would he bother when he barely made port in recent years? He often found that women were more interested in his flames and what his status could do than they were in him .

It was just one more thing Atlas reveled in, loving the attention more than the air he breathed. However, his brother possessed power that he assumed could cause pleasure and be made use of in the bedroom, while all Draevyn’s power contained was destruction.

Women of his past acted fearless when toying with the Phoenix’s flames until they found his love scorched their hearts.

To Draevyn, the gilded walls of the room resembled a prison more than a palace.

He lingered near the tall, arched windows, where the darkness of the night pressed in on the glass.

Every now and then, people would glance his way—curious lords and hopeful women—but his gaze would slide past them as if they weren’t even there, dismissing them without a word.

His fingers twitched at his sides, his mind far from the twirling figures and the shallow conversations surrounding him. Draevyn’s frustration was ready to boil over, contemplating slipping away from the scene of glittering masks and empty smiles and never looking back.

As he skirted the edge of the dance floor, his gaze landed on a familiar figure in the center of the crowd.

Atlas was at the heart of the festivities, surrounded by a group of Lephyrin’s women and females of other kingdoms, who were all laughing and vying for his attention.

Unlike Draevyn, his brother thrived in the spotlight—his smile came easy and his charm effortless as he moved from one conversation to another.

Their eyes met across the room, and Atlas’s grin widened as he raised a glass in a silent toast, inviting him to join.

Draevyn gave him a subtle shake of his head as a smirk formed.

It wasn’t as if it would be difficult to slip into the role expected of him, to wear the same false smile and play the part his brother seemed to relish.

However, as the years had passed, his patience for such things had withered away.

The night was intended for Atlas to take a bride and future queen of Lephyrin. Draevyn wouldn’t dare step into the madness of the room and risk the females thinking he also desired that when the only thing he had grown to long for was the sea.

His brother watched him for a moment longer, a glimmer of understanding in his eyes as he dipped his chin. A moment later, Atlas excused himself from the group of women and strode in Draevyn’s direction.

He let out a huff and opted to meet his brother halfway.

“Good of you to show,” Atlas taunted. “I was beginning to think you slipped away the moment Father’s eyes wandered from you.”

“And miss you selecting one woman you’ll be spending the rest of your life with?” Draevyn raised a brow. “I would never miss that kind of entertainment.”

Atlas scoffed as he aggressively patted Draevyn on the back and pushed them both toward a table lined with endless kinds of imported wine and baked goods.

He poured them each a glass and handed one to him.

“You enjoy wounding me. Why don’t you stop being such a gods-damn stiff and go speak to one of the beautiful women here tonight?

As much as I’m up for the challenge, I don’t think I have it in me to bed them all. ”

Draevyn sent the entire glass of wine down his throat, needing the liquid courage to have this conversation. “I have no desire.”

“Petty conversations and pleasantries, I understand. All you must do for that is smile and nod. However, you’re still a man, Drae.” Atlas let out a low laugh. “Unless you’ve been bedding women in every port you sail to, I believe it would’ve been quite some time for you, no?”

“You’re just as nosy as the women you’re courting, do you realize that?” Draevyn grumbled, but his brother only barked out a laugh.

Atlas shook his head. “One day, you’ll learn to have a bit of fun.” His eyes then drifted to the dais, where the king sat, watching them both with narrowed eyes. He sighed. “It appears I’m not doing my duty enough, judging by Father’s stare.”

Draevyn suppressed his smirk. “Better hurry and choose before he decides for you.”

“Fucking Irah,” Atlas huffed and then placed his empty glass on the table. “Well, off I go to offer myself over to a sea of women.” He winked. “The invitation remains if you care to join me, brother.”

A moment later, Atlas disappeared into the crowd.