Becoming Archduke's Fiancé

Xion had no idea how long he had clung to Darius. It was only when Darius' low voice drilled into his ears that he lifted his head from the broad shoulder.

"What did you say?"

Darius used his silken handkerchief to wipe away the lingering dampness on Xion's face, which was slowly turning pink.

Am I using too much force, Darius mused, making his touch even gentler. So fragile, so delicate.

How can Xion even survive amidst the politics of all the nobles and royals?

Sure enough, it was better to keep Xion by his side.

"I said, you can be my fiancé."

Xion rubbed his eyes before blinking at Darius. For a moment, he was in such disbelief that he even ignored how Darius was rubbing his hair.

"You," Xion pointed his finger at the taller male, "My fiancé? I am sixteen. And you are..."

Xion halted. He had no idea how old Darius was.