The Twin Kings’ of Aeger
Ruyi Vael'Tyrr, the elder twin lounged on his throne—a throne in name only. In truth, it was an oversized daybed, layered in the finest silks and cushions, a symbol of indulgence and disregard.
Unlike the rest of Aeger, where the brutal desert heat dictated light clothing, Ruyi was fully covered in a sleek bodysuit beneath a flowing silk robe. The sheer impracticality of it only reinforced his arrogance; the heat did not matter to him.
Nothing did.
His golden eyes, a marker of his divine lineage as a golden lion
The spy—a chameleon shifter, one of the best—had been cautious, certain he could move undetected, disrupting Ruyi's textile trade while remaining hidden. He had been wrong.
Ruyi chuckled. "If you had merely stolen from me, I could have forgiven you."
The spy hesitated, his reptilian pupils narrowing, calculating. "Your Majesty, I would never—"
Ruyi waved a hand, silencing him. "But you didn't just steal. You meddled." He leaned forward slightly, his voice edged with amusement. "And I don't forgive those who interfere with my revenue."
The spy scrambled for an excuse, desperation leaking from every word. Lies, misdirections, pleas—Ruyi let him speak, pretending to listen, sipping wine from a goblet, allowing the man to believe, just for a moment, that he had a chance.
Then, Ruyi set the goblet down and removed his right glove.
The spy's breath hitched.
Casually, Ruyi reached for a date from the golden tray beside him, rolling it between his bare fingers. He squeezed it gently, letting the juices mix with the sweat on his palm before extending it toward the man.
"A peace offering."
The spy's face drained of color.
The guards moved to force his trembling hands forward, but the man recoiled, his breaths ragged. Everyone present knew why—Ruyi's bare touch was death. His body fluids, infused with an unnatural poison, made his mere sweat lethal.
The spy's pupils contracted in terror as he realized his fate. "Please—please, I have a family. Children. Spare me, Your Majesty."
Ruyi's smile didn't waver, but something in his gaze sharpened. "Are you mocking me?"
The air in the room grew warmer.
The spy realized his mistake too late. His body went rigid as Ruyi tilted his head, his tone deadly. "Are you mocking the fact that I will never have that? That I will never pass my name to a child?"
The spy stammered, panic consuming him. "N-No, I—"
Then, suddenly, his expression twisted, desperation morphing into something bitter. "You can kill me, but you will never have what I do. Love. A family. You might be a divine beast, but you're nothing more than a cursed monster—unloved and unworthy."
The words hung in the air, heavy and venomous.
For the first time, Ruyi's golden eyes darkened, his ever-present smirk vanishing. The air around them thickened, the temperature rising unbearably.
Ruyi sighed, shaking his head. "I was generous before."
He lifted his hand, his fingers slick with sweat and fruit juice. "But I believe a simple offering won't do."
He licked his fingertips, then pressed them lightly against the back of the man's neck, letting his saliva seep into his skin.
The scream was instant, piercing.
The spy convulsed, his body spasming violently as his skin blackened, his nerves bursting with pain. His shrieks echoed through the throne room, growing weaker with each pulse of agony. By the time his body stilled, the marble beneath him was stained red.
Ruyi exhaled. "Send him back to my dear stepmother. Let her see how well I've mastered the gift she gave me."
The guards bowed and dragged the corpse away.
Across the room, a concubine, Vincent, had been carefully combing through Ruyel Vael'Tyrr's silver hair. But the sight of the execution rattled him. His hands trembled, just enough for the comb to snag. A mistake.
Ruyel, the younger twin's icy-blue eyes opened slowly.
Silence.
Then, in a single motion, the divine white tiger shifter's hand closed around Vincent's throat, lifting him effortlessly off the ground. The concubine gasped, his feet dangling, air cut off instantly.
"I have no use for careless hands," Ruyel murmured.
The court didn't react. No one did. The noblemen seated near Ruyi continued their indulgences, oblivious. Two men were being pleasured openly by a skilled courtesan, unconcerned by the deaths happening around them.
Lord Belvedere entered then, bowing deeply. "Your Majesties, an imperial edict."
Ruyel finally released Vincent, letting him collapse to the floor. "Demote him," he said without a glance. "Let him clean the halls."
The concubine scurried away as the letter was presented.
Ruyel took it first, breaking the seal as Ruyi leisurely washed his hands in a golden basin. With practiced ease, he dried them with a silk cloth before slipping his gloves back on, sealing away the lethal touch that had just condemned a man to death.
"There will be some inconvenience," Ruyel murmured, scanning the contents. "A new governor."
Ruyi plucked the parchment from his brother's fingers, expecting another fool to play with. But the moment his eyes landed on the name, something shifted in his expression.
For just a second, he stilled.
Then, just as quickly, his smirk returned. "Oh?"
Ruyel watched him carefully. He had known Ruyi his entire life, could read him better than anyone. And yet, there was something in his brother's reaction that intrigued him.
Ten years ago, as teenagers, Ruyel had deduced Ruyi's fascination with Marina. He had seen the sneaky looks, the way Ruyi had insisted on providing the squires with sweet food during training—when nearly all of them, being men, detested it. Ruyi himself hated sweets, yet he had ensured they were always available.
Ruyi had never admitted it, never spoken of it. And then, before he could even confront those feelings, the poison had stolen that possibility away. There was no room in his life for romance.
Not now. Not ever.
Ruyel folded his arms. "We usually break governors within months. A tragedy of fate, perhaps?"
Ruyi leaned back into his silk-laden throne, his long golden-red hair cascading over his shoulders, flicking the parchment between his fingers.
"Perhaps." His golden eyes, sharp and knowing, gleamed as he traced the letters of her name with his thumb. "But our dear sister must want something. She wouldn't send her little hound otherwise."
They let the court continue, the usual games of indulgence resuming as if nothing had changed.
But deep down, Ruyi could already feel it—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.
The thought refused to drift away. Instead, it lingered, clawing at the edges of his mind like a ghost of something long buried.
No. He had killed that part of himself long ago.
And yet, despite his indifference, despite everything he had become, a single unshakable truth took root in his chest.
She was coming.
And whether he liked it or not, something was about to change.