One of the braver councilmen stepped forward, attempting to defend the young woman.
"I'm afraid we must decline your offer. As the King said, he isn't interested in seeking any marriage partners at this time."
Atalanta turned her gaze sharply on him, clearly displeased by his interjection. "I don't recall addressing this matter to you, sir," she said, her tone icy. "If you could kindly keep your opinions to yourself, it would be greatly appreciated."
The councilman, initially stunned by her audacity, quickly felt his surprise morph into simmering anger.
"How dare you! Do you not see that I spoke up in order to save your rear? You ungrateful wench. It'll be the last time I ever come to your aid." He thought to himself, but outside, he put on a forced polite smile.
"I'm afraid you're sorely mistaken," the councilman shot back. "We, as the council, speak on behalf of the King, especially in matters such as this."
Atalanta let out a soft, rueful laugh. "My apologies if I've offended you," she said with feigned innocence. "I was simply under the impression I was speaking to the King, not a group of old farts with nothing better to do than sit around spouting useless nonsense." She offered a sweet smile.
The councilman's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, struggling to find words. The others around him flared with indignation.
"How dare you speak that way about the royal council!" one of them snapped. "To insult us is to insult the King!"
The two sides exchanged insults in a rising tide of tension, but Ceremus, whose anger had momentarily subsided as his council spoke for him, now seemed merely annoyed.
"Enough," he said coldly, and the room fell into a heavy silence.
"I've grown bored of this topic and do not wish to entertain it any longer," he continued, his voice unwavering. "As I've said before, I have no desire to marry some unknown woman from a kingdom I couldn't care less about."
"B-But Your Majesty—"
"I've already given you an answer, haven't I?" Ceremus' voice rose with authority, and a chill spread through the room. His eyes, dark and piercing, locked onto Atalanta, and she couldn't help but flinch under his gaze.
A dark, oppressive energy radiated from Ceremus, drowning the envoys in a wave of suffocating despair. They felt their knees buckled under the pressure, the air was no longer able to enter their lungs, and it was becoming harder for them to breathe. Hael watched the scene unfold, a frown creasing his brow.
Though he understood Ceremus' anger and, in an unexpected way, felt some relief that the King had refused any marriage proposal, Hael couldn't shake the feeling that it was wrong for Ceremus to unleash such fury on the envoys. They were, after all, innocent—just doing their job. If there was anyone deserving of the King's ire, it was the King of Cleves.
Turning his attention back to Ceremus, Hael saw that the King's expression had grown so cold that he seemed made of stone. Seeing him like this stirred something in Hael's chest.
As if sensing Hael's gaze, Ceremus turned toward him, and their eyes met. A jolt of shock ran through Ceremus even with their distance. Instantly, the dark energy dissipated, and the air in the room cleared, allowing the envoys to breathe freely once more.
The two of them held each other's gaze for a moment longer before Ceremus looked away, clearing his throat. "If there's nothing else," he said, his tone sharp. "Let's end this insipid meeting."
The envoys, unable to find words, filed out of the throne room. Atalanta lingered for a moment longer, her gaze fixed on Ceremus before shifting to Hael. Since her arrival, she had sensed something different about him. Her suspicions were confirmed when he stood unwavering, even under the weight of the King's oppressive energy. And then there had been that shared look—when their eyes locked, the forceful aura seemed to lose its intensity.
She couldn't help but wonder who this man was, and what his connection to the King could possibly be. How could he regard such a cruel ruler with eyes so kind, untouched by fear or resentment?
These thoughts lingered with Atalanta as she exited the throne room. With a deep sigh, she wondered how she would break the news to her King.
The day finally ended, and Ceremus wanted nothing more than to forget the unpleasantness that was the council meeting from earlier in the day. He couldn't believe the King of Cleves was shameless enough to send people over to his Kingdom and ask for a marriage between him and his daughter.
It was ridiculous. Just thinking about it made him angry.
His gaze lingered on the tray of drinks, fixating on the bottle of strong alcohol. He reached for it, but just as his fingers brushed the bottle's neck, he hesitated. A strange feeling washed over him—an unspoken longing for the company of another, the desire for something more than solitude and drunkenness. It was a subtle, yet an undeniable feeling, one that tugged at his chest. Tonight, he knew in his heart, he shouldn't drink.
His thoughts instantly turned to Hael, and the longing only intensified as he imagined the white-haired young man.
With a resolute expression on his face, he decided to pay the man in question a visit.
Standing before the door, he was torn between knocking or simply walking in. It was his palace, after all—he had every right to enter unannounced. Yet, for reasons he couldn't quite explain, he couldn't bring himself to act so brazenly in Hael's presence. Instead, he hesitated, caught in a rare moment of uncertainty. If Anemone had been there to witness it, he would have likely thought his king had finally lost his mind.
He shook his head of unnecessary thoughts and knocked. Not even a second went by before he heard Hael's voice telling him to come in.
Ceremus opened the door and was shocked by the sight before him. Perched on top of Hael's finder was a white bird, and that same bird was currently speaking to Hael as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
Ceremus stood there frozen in place, unable to comprehend what was happening.
"T-That bird, it spoke. It just spoke." He said slowly. "Am I starting to hear things? Has the alcohol finally gotten to me…but wait, I don't recall having anything to drink tonight. Perhaps I'm just tired. Yes, that's it." He thought, trying to convince himself.
Loki finally noticed another presence in the room and turned towards the door, his gaze landing on the man who was still confused by what he was seeing. "What is this man spouting about?" He said.
The minute he spoke, Ceremus' head shot up. Hael, who had been watching Ceremus since his arrival, finally understood what was happening. The King was able to hear Loki clearly. This was the first time another human could hear the bird speak. It must be the divine blood running through his veins that is allowing him to understand Loki. He thought.
The man tried to hide an amused smile as he saw Ceremus' eyes grow wide. "Your Majesty, how may I be of assistance?" He asked, bringing Ceremus out of his daze.
"Oh, uh, I just thought you might need some company is all." He lied.
Hael's face lit up. "Your company is appreciated, Your Majesty. Please come and join me."