"This is too much. I need to go," Madin mutters, his steps unsteady. The weight of Jeremy's confession mixes with the alcohol in his system, making his head spin even more.
As he turns to leave, his eyes catch movement in the distance. Arthur is standing there, watching them. His expression is unreadable, but his presence is suffocating. How long has he been there? Did he hear everything?
"Madin," Arthur calls, his voice sharp, cutting through the air like a blade.
Madin freezes at the sound of his name, the guilt washing over him even though he's done nothing wrong. He walks toward Arthur hesitantly, only for Arthur to grab his hand and pull him away, his grip firm and uncompromising.
"Where are we going?" Madin asks, but Arthur doesn't answer.
They enter an unfamiliar room, its dim lighting and sparse furniture giving it an air of secrecy. Arthur slams the door shut behind them and turns to face him, his eyes blazing.
"Really, Madin? Jeremy? What were you doing in his arms like that?"
"I'm drunk! He was just helping me!" Madin snaps, brushing off the accusation. He doesn't understand why he feels the need to explain himself.
Jeremy is Arthur's bodyguard; why shouldn't he help? Yet the guilt lingers, a residue of the confession he's just heard.
"And why are you drinking yourself into this state?" Arthur presses, his tone harsher now. "Do you have any idea what people will think if they see you like this?"
"I don't care what anyone thinks. I'm going to rest," Madin mutters, turning to leave.
But Arthur grabs his arm, yanking him back. His grip is unyielding, and Madin feels a flare of frustration. "Why do you always walk away when I'm trying to talk to you? What does that mean?"
"Your Highness," Madin says, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "why don't you go back to your marriage ceremony? Enjoy the company of your new wife. I don't have the energy or the patience to deal with you right now."
Before he can finish, Arthur shoves him against the wall, his lips crashing down on Madin's in a desperate, heated kiss. For a brief moment, Madin melts into it, the familiar warmth and passion stirring emotions he thought he'd buried. But the confusion, the betrayal, the chaos of it all overwhelms him.
He pushes Arthur away, his breathing ragged.
"You're jealous," Arthur accuses, his voice low and dangerous. "You were pretending to be fine, but you're not."
"Of course I'm jealous!" Madin shouts, the words spilling out before he can stop them. "You were sitting there, looking so happy with her, acting like this is the life you've always wanted. How can I be okay with that? You love her—I can see it, even if you won't admit it!"
Arthur's jaw tightens. "Have you ever noticed that all we do is fight? One moment we're fine, the next we're at each other's throats. Aren't you tired of this?"
Madin glares at him, the tears welling up despite his best efforts to hold them back. "I'm tired of everything, Arthur. Of pretending, of watching you be someone else, of feeling like I'm not enough." he admits.
Arthur sighs and takes Madin's hands in his own, his voice softening. "I told you, my feelings for you won't just disappear. No matter what happens, you'll always come first. I love you, Madin. That hasn't changed, and it never will. Catherina on the other hand... she is what I told you she is to me."
The anger and pain inside Madin dissolve, replaced by a wave of relief so powerful it brings him to tears. Without thinking, he throws his arms around Arthur, clinging to him like a lifeline.
"I love you too," he whispers, his voice breaking.
Arthur pulls back slightly, brushing a tear from Madin's cheek. "Come on. You need to rest. Let me take you to my room."
"I'd rather go to my room," Madin says, his voice barely audible.
Arthur raises an eyebrow. "Why? Don't you want to stay with me tonight?"
"You're married now," Madin says bitterly. "Shouldn't you be spending the night with Catherina?"
Arthur's lips curve into a wry smile. "She has her own room. She'll only come to mine if there's something important to discuss."
That brings a small smile to Madin's lips. "Okay, then."
They make their way to Arthur's chambers. But as Arthur pushes the door open, they are greeted by a sight that makes Madin's heart drop.
Catherina is there, lounging on Arthur's bed in nothing but her undergarments. She looks up at them with a seductive smile, her posture shamelessly inviting.
"What are you doing here?" Arthur asks, his voice stiff and strained.
"What do you mean?" she purrs, tilting her head coyly. "It's our wedding night, my dear husband. Don't you know what's supposed to happen?"
Madin takes a step back, the scene before him too much to bear. Catherina's gaze flicks to him, a glint of triumph in her eyes, as though she's savoring his pain.
Without a word, Madin pulls his hand free from Arthur's grasp and turns to leave. His chest feels tight, his breath coming in short gasps as he walks away, his vision blurred by tears he refuses to shed.
Arthur doesn't call after him.
Back in his room, Madin paces restlessly, his thoughts a whirlwind of anger, hurt, and doubt. He tries to replay Arthur's words from earlier, clinging to them like a lifeline. "You'll always come first. I love you. That will never change."
He repeats them under his breath, over and over, until the ache in his chest dulls slightly. But the image of Catherina, smug and confident on Arthur's bed, refuses to leave his mind.
Desperate for distraction, he heads back to the hall. The celebration is still in full swing, the music and laughter a sharp contrast to the turmoil inside him.