The grand chamber of Aeger's royal court was filled with the scent of incense and the soft hum of pleasure, but King Ruyi Vael'Tyrr, the eldest of the twin kings of Aeger, was bored.
Lounging lazily on his throne, he swirled a glass of deep amber liquor, his golden-red hair cascading over his shoulder in a fiery contrast to the rich silks of his robes.
His molten gold eyes flickered with disinterest as he watched two noblemen being attended to by a particularly skilled courtesan. The woman moved with practiced elegance, her every touch calculated to elicit pleasure, yet Ruyi felt nothing.
Once, such displays had entertained him. Now, they were nothing more than background noise.
Because Ruyi could not touch, they had been a substitute for his own shortcomings.
The thin, elegant gloves covering his hands were a necessity, not a fashion statement.
Beneath his opulent robes, he wore a well-tailored bodysuit—a second skin that ensured no accidental contact with another human.
His body was a poison to anyone he touched. The simple act of skin against skin could kill, a lesson he had learned the hard way.
Ten years ago, when he had still been known as Crown Prince Rheinhardt, the peerless genius, his mentor had been the first victim of his cursed body. In a desperate attempt to restrain him as he thrashed in a poison-induced frenzy, the man had grasped his arm.
The contact had been brief—just seconds. But it was enough. The slightest brush of his sweat had been fatal, leaving the man who had once guided him through war and discipline writhing in agony. The horror of that moment had never left him.
From that day forward, he had been untouchable—not just physically, but emotionally.
Romance, love, lust—things that had once been second nature to him—were now little more than distant memories, unnecessary burdens that served no purpose in his life. He had no use for them.
What was desire to a man who could never act on it?
What was longing to a man who could never feel skin against his own without death following in its wake?
He exhaled softly, his smirk absent for once, and tilted his head toward his brother.
Ruyel Vael'Tyrr, the younger of the twin kings was seated beside him, his eyes closed as if he was in deep thought. Once known as Imperial Prince Rhaeil, the military prodigy of the empire, he had long since discarded that name, along with everything it had once meant.
Unlike Ruyi, his curse was not physical but buried deep within his mind.
The once cold and silent prince had become withdrawn, his emotions buried beneath layers of frost. Women disgusted him, their presence an unwelcome reminder of a past he refused to acknowledge.
When Ruyi had built his pleasure house—a grand spectacle where nobles and courtesans put on elaborate performances of indulgence—Ruyel had distanced himself.
He surrounded himself with men, both in his barracks and in his harem, ensuring that no woman ever dared approach his side. It was not about preference. It was about control, about ensuring no one could wield power over him again.
Suddenly, his piercing blue eyes flickered open, cold and unreadable. His silver-white hair, like strands of moonlight, was being carefully combed by one of his favorite male concubines, Vincent. But when the comb snagged in his locks, a sharp tug pulling at his scalp, his patience fractured.
With a flash of movement, Ruyel's hand shot out, gripping Vincent by the throat. The concubine barely had time to gasp before Ruyel's icy voice cut through the stunned silence.
"You're clumsy," he murmured, his grip tightening just enough to make Vincent squirm. His expression remained impassive, but the weight of his displeasure was suffocating. Then, just as swiftly, he released him, shoving him backward. "You're no longer needed. Get out."
Vincent stumbled, his face pale with shock. "Y-Your Majesty—"
"You are dismissed." Ruyel's tone was final, the unspoken meaning clear—his status had plummeted. The harem would not welcome him again.
Vincent, realizing his fate, lowered his head and quickly retreated. The court barely reacted—such things were commonplace.
It was at that moment that the grand doors of the chamber swung open, and Lord Belvedere strode in, his expression tense. The man carried a parchment sealed with the imperial crest—an edict from the Imperial Palace.
Ruyi's interest stirred, not because of the document itself, but because the delivery of such decrees had become a rare occurrence. The twin kings had long since been left to govern Aeger without much interference from the empire. The mere sight of the seal hinted at something important.
Lord Belvedere bowed deeply before presenting the edict. "An order from the Imperial Court."
Ruyel took it first, breaking the seal with a flick of his fingers. His sharp blue eyes scanned the contents before his expression twisted in disdain.
"So they've finally sent us a new Governor," he muttered, tossing the parchment onto the table between them.
Ruyi, now vaguely intrigued, leaned forward, plucking the paper up with lazy fingers. His golden eyes flitted across the words, and for a fraction of a second, something unreadable passed over his face before his usual smirk returned.
"Marina Velkas," he mused aloud, tasting the name on his tongue.
A name he had not uttered in years.
Ruyel studied his brother carefully. He knew that name wasn't just any name to Ruyi.
Ten years ago, before their descent into debauchery, before poison stripped him of his future, Marina had been someone Ruyi had watched from the shadows. A fascination, an admiration that had once burned bright before it was smothered beneath duty and circumstance.
Now, she was returning—not as a passing squire in training, but as the one assigned to govern in their kingdom.
Ruyel leaned back, crossing his arms. "Do you think she sent her on purpose?"
Ruyi's smirk faltered just slightly. Sister.
The Crown Princess had long since given up on reforming them, but now Marina was coming here, of all places? Was this another one of her tedious attempts at redemption?
Ruyel continued, his voice laced with amusement, "Perhaps she thinks Marina will bring us to heel. That she'll awaken whatever humanity you have left."
Ruyi chuckled, but it lacked its usual mirth. "A romantic notion," he murmured, setting the edict down. "But misplaced."
Ruyel studied him, but said nothing.
Deep down, Ruyi could already feel it—something stirring beneath the years of decadence, of cold apathy. A long-dead feeling clawing its way back to life.
What will she think of me now? The thought was unwelcome, irritating.
He scoffed inwardly. Ridiculous. As if her opinion should matter.
Mocking himself, he flexed his gloved fingers, feeling the smoothness of the latex against his skin. There is no point in dwelling on things I can never have.
Romance was for those who could touch.
He drained his glass and let the thought drift away.
"Well," he drawled, stretching like a cat, "let's see how long she lasts."