Chapter 20. Carriage shocked

"What took you so long?" Cleven asked with a teasing grin.

The King, Queen, Cleren, Cleven, and Prince Karin were already seated at the grand dining table.

"Greetings, Your Majesties," Luren said respectfully with a bow.

"Stop that! save it for when there are nobles and the throne room," King Carl said, waving a hand casually. "Just be comfortable here."

"Good morning, Luren and Uncle Craige!" Cleren greeted them with a bright smile.

"Good morning, kiddo," Craige replied, tousling the boy's hair, making Cleren giggle.

Luren's smile softened as he watched the child.

They exchanged warm greetings around the table, then settled into a peaceful meal,

occasionally chatting over casual conversation.

"How long will you be staying, Cleven?" Queen Lariana asked gently.

"A month," he replied, taking a sip of tea. "Then I plan to travel to a place with only

two seasons."

"Is there really a place like that?" Luren asked, his curiosity piqued.

"Yes," Cleven's eyes lit up. "I met someone who lives there, it's somewhere near the

equator. It takes about a month by ship to reach it. I'm quite excited."

"I heard Prince Karin will stay as the Queen's attendant?" King Carl remarked, glancing

at the prince.

The night before, the Queen had suggested it to protect Prince Karin from being used as a political pawn by his brother.

"Actually, he'll be teaching Cleren," Queen Lariana said with a proud smile. "I heard

Prince Karin excels in history and music."

Prince Karin smiled shyly, cheeks slightly flushed.

"I also think Prince Karin is the perfect companion for Cleren when he visits the north," Craige added thoughtfully.

"Cleren is going to the north?" Luren asked with a delighted tone.

"I always go there during Flostmel to play with other kids and Whitefang!" Cleren beamed.

"It's for the Frostmere Festival," Craige explained. "It will be held in three months and lasts for two weeks."

"Whitefang is a big wolf!" Cleren said, spreading his arms wide to show its size.

They all laughed at the child's excitement.

"I'd love to visit the north with Cleren," Prince Karin added with a warm, sincere smile.

After a hearty breakfast, Craige and Luren began preparing to return to the mansion.

"Luren," Prince Karin called out, his voice soft yet hesitant. "Can I talk to you in the

garden?"

Luren gave a small nod. "Sure," he replied gently, remembering the awkward tension between them yesterday in the Queen's chamber.

Their meeting with the Queen had been brief. She had simply thanked Luren for

accompanying Cleren, and nothing more was said between him and Karin.

Now, standing amidst the blooming flowers and crisp morning breeze, Karin shifted

uncomfortably before speaking.

"I want to apologize," he said finally, his eyes avoiding Luren's. "For trying to seduce the Duke... it was selfish of me."

Luren gave a small, understanding smile. "It's okay. We weren't in a serious relationship before that happened," he said calmly, with no trace of resentment in his

voice.

Karin let out a sigh of relief, then added, "I just... wanted to feel safe. But using His

Grace like that, it wasn't fair. I regret it." He paused, then looked up at Luren with sincerity. "I'd like us to be friends, if that's okay with you."

Luren's smile widened, warmth lighting his eyes. "I'd love that. Being a prince's

friend sounds like an honor."

Karin laughed lightly, a bit of the tension melting away. "Thank you. Just call me

Karin, please."

"Okay," Luren chuckled. "I'll see you in the north in three months, then."

They shared a warm, heartfelt hug, two people finally laying down their misunderstandings and choosing friendship. A new beginning quietly bloomed between them in the palace garden.

----

They rode the carriage on the way back to the mansion, seated across from one another in silence. The soft clatter of the wheels on the cobblestone road was the only

sound between them, until Craige spoke.

"Come here," he said gently, patting the empty space beside him.

Luren hesitated but moved closer. The moment he was within reach, Craige pulled him into his lap in one swift, possessive motion.

"Y-Your Grace!" Luren gasped, face flushing crimson.

"It's Craige, baby," he whispered against Luren's back, wrapping his arms around him

and burying his face in the curve of Luren's neck. He inhaled deeply, smiling.

"You smell so good… like honeysuckle."

Luren stiffened slightly, heart pounding. "Did you stop drinking the medicine your

mother gave you?"

"I just forgot to bring some with me to the palace," Luren replied softly, finally

turning to face the duke. Somehow, sitting in his lap felt… natural. Comfortable.

Craige's grip tightened, his voice low and seductive. "Stop drinking it. I'm here if your heat comes."

Luren's cheeks burned at the implication, but he nodded shyly, eyes darting away.

"I want to kiss you," Craige murmured, his gaze intense and full of desire.

Luren lowered his head, lips meeting Craige's in a slow, tender kiss. They savored

each other, breaths mingling. But the kiss deepened, turned hungrier. Craige

shifted Luren, positioning him so he now sat straddled across his lap, legs parted.

The air grew hotter between them.

Their kiss turned rough, desperate. Their mouths explored, tongues tasting. A moan escaped Luren's lips as he clung to Craige's coat, breath coming in short gasps.

Craige's hands roamed his back, holding him close, as if the world outside the

carriage had ceased to exist.

Still, they didn't stop.

They didn't want to stop.

Their world had shrunk down to the shared space between their lips, the pressure of their bodies, and the desperate heat blooming in every touch.

"Craige…" Luren gasped softly against his mouth, voice trembling.

Craige's hand cupped the side of Luren's face, brushing a thumb over his flushed cheek. His eyes, dark with longing, searched Luren's.

"I can't get enough of you," he whispered. "Every time I kiss you, I want more."

Luren swallowed, heart pounding like a drum in his chest. "Me too…"

Craige smiled, a rare softness in his eyes. "You're mine, Luren. I won't let anyone

take you away."

Luren leaned forward, resting his forehead against Craige's. "I don't want to be anywhere else."

The carriage swayed gently along the road, but neither of them noticed. Lost in the

depth of each other's touch, their kisses grew more heated, hungry, desperate.

Luren's fingers tangled in Craige's coat as Craige's hands roamed his back,

pulling him impossibly closer.

Soft moans and ragged breaths filled the enclosed space. The world outside faded into nothing. There was only the two of them, mouths exploring, hearts racing,

bodies pressed close in a haze of need.

Neither of them heard the carriage wheels slowing.

Neither of them noticed it had stopped.

The door suddenly flew open.

"LUREEEENNN!!!" a familiar voice called out in excited glee.

Both froze mid-kiss.

Clara stood at the open carriage door, only to freeze in utter shock, her eyes wide as

saucers when she saw exactly what the two were doing.

"Holy shit!" she gasped, then immediately slammed the door shut again. ""We left him

in the duke's care to protect him…" Clara murmured in disbelief, still stunned

by what she'd seen. "But it's the duke himself who's attacking him—in broad

daylight… inside a carriage!"

Her face turned red—not out of embarrassment, but pure shock—as she paced just outside the mansion steps, hands flailing dramatically. "Gods above, they were

devouring each other! Luren's legs were—ugh! I saw too much!"

She covered her face with both hands, peeking between her fingers. "What do I even say to him now? 'Hey Luceen, how's the weather? Also, nice straddling form?' No, no—I need holy water."

Luren buried his burning face into Craige's chest, mortified. "T-that was Clara…

right?"

Craige let out a long sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah… we're here."

Luren sat up slowly, cheeks flushed a deep red, still breathless from the kiss—and now

from the embarrassment.

Craige helped him adjust his clothes gently. "Come on," he said with a chuckle, placing a light kiss on Luren's temple. "Let's face the aftermath."

Together, they stepped out of the carriage, hand in hand—into the cool evening air and

whatever teasing Clara had waiting for them.