Roen didn’t know how long he had been walking.

The cold had sunk deep into his skin, the kind that didn’t fade even when he rubbed his arms. His fingers ached, stiff from the wind cutting through the streets. But his head burned. His thoughts spun too fast, slamming into one another with nowhere to go.

His feet moved without direction, barely registering where they were taking him. The city lights flickered past in a haze, too bright, too distant. The sounds of passing cars and muffled conversations barely touched him, everything drowned beneath the pounding in his chest.

This morning, Jun had placed a key card in his hand, smiling like he was giving Roen something important, something just for them. Now, that same Jun had already sealed his future with someone else.

The pressure behind his eyes built, thick and stinging. His vision blurred, edges distorting, swallowing up the street in front of him.

His steps faltered.

A thick swell of water blocked his sight, turning the road ahead into nothing but a smudged blur. His breath hitched.

He couldn’t see anymore.

His feet stopped moving.

There was no point in walking forward if he couldn’t see where he was going.

7 hours and 13 minutes.

That was exactly how long it had been since Roen’s phone last showed any activity.

Jun lounged on the sofa, one arm draped over the backrest while his other hand gripped his phone. The screen lit up with his last message to Roen, still marked as unread.

Jun had sent multiple messages, checking in every hour. At first, he thought Roen was ignoring him, but that didn’t make sense. Even if Roen didn’t reply, the tracker should’ve updated his location.

Jun sighed, shifting restlessly before opening the application.

It was a special-made tracking system, linked directly to Roen’s phone GPS. A little precaution Jun had set up a long time ago—not that he ever admitted it out loud. It was the easiest way to keep an eye on him, to make sure Roen never wandered too far without him knowing.

But now, the screen remained blank. No location update. No movement.

His fingers hovered over the screen.

Roen’s phone was off.

It wasn’t the first time this had happened, but never for this long. Seven hours. Thirteen minutes.

A sharp chill ran down his spine.

He shot up from the couch, grabbing his coat without another second of hesitation. He wasn’t going to sit here and wait anymore.

Arriving at the Heltix family house at 9 PM was inappropriate, but Jun didn’t care.

The moment the gates slid open, he walked straight to the entrance, barely pausing before reaching for the doorbell. His hand was just about to knock when the door swung open.

“Oh, Jun! What are you doing here?”

Mrs. Heltix stood in the doorway, dressed comfortably for the night, a warm smile on her face.

Jun straightened, forcing his usual charm into place. “Hello, Mothe—I mean, Mrs. Heltix! I was just going to hang out with Roen upstairs.”

Her brows lifted in surprise. “Huh? But he’s not home.”

Jun’s smile faltered. “What?”

“I mean, he told me earlier he was staying over at a friend’s house tonight.”

Jun froze.

Roen wasn’t home?

He had been so sure. If Roen’s phone was off, there was only one logical place he could be—here. Jun knew his schedule, his habits, his movements down to the second. Roen never strayed from routine. If he wasn’t home, where the hell else would he be?

A cold unease settled in his stomach.

“…Are you sure?”

Mrs. Heltix gave a small laugh. 

“Of course! He told me himself. Though, I was surprised too. It’s not often he stays out.”

Jun’s mind raced.

Roen didn’t have other close friends. That was something Jun had made sure of. He had spent years making himself the one person Roen could turn to, ensuring Roen never owed anyone else anything.

So who the hell was this friend?

His jaw tensed.

The only person Roen had ever tolerated aside from him was that bastard Eugene. The guy had latched onto Roen in high school, sticking around shamelessly despite Roen’s indifference.

But there was no way Roen would crash at Eugene’s place.

Even if, by some miracle, Eugene was in Altea right now… Roen would never go to him.

So where the hell was he?

Sleeping soundly had never been Jun's trait. Rest was only possible when Roen was near. His body had been trained to stay alert rather than relaxed.

Last night was the worst. Saying he didn’t sleep would be more accurate. His eyes had stayed fixed on the GPS tracker app, the glow of the screen burning into them. The waiting had stretched endlessly, his fingers clenching the device tighter each time nothing changed.

Roen’s phone had remained off. Not saying it never happened, but never for this long.

A knock on the door disturbed the silence.

"Your Highness, it's time."

Jun didn’t move. His fingers dug into the sheets beneath him, breath slow and controlled.

"I understand. I will be out in a minute."

If it were up to him, he would have torn this country apart looking for Roen last night. But because of this damned responsibility of his title, he couldn't.

His hands clenched into fists. The weight of the crown sat heavier than ever, a burden he had been forced to carry since childhood.

He hated it. He hated this title so much that he wanted to tear it out of himself.

He had never wanted this position. Never wanted the prestige. Never wanted the suffocating obligations that choked the life out of him.

Jun had hated being born into the royal family for as long as he could remember.

He had been six years old at the time. The endless stares, the suffocating etiquette, the never-ending classes meant to shape him into a perfect prince.

He hated it to death.

He had begged to go back with his mother to Luze, her homeland.

The king and queen had never loved each other. Their marriage had been nothing more than a transaction. His mother was from the Luzenour family, a noble house that once controlled immense military power. When she married into the royal family, the entire Luzenour military was absorbed into the kingdom’s forces. Stripped away.

Over time, when the royal family no longer had any use for her, the distance between the king and queen grew until she was nothing more than a formality.

Jun had barely turned six when the king exiled her back to Luze.

Jay, the older brother, had been ten at the time. The initial crown prince. The one who had the choice.

One day, Jay simply left. Chose to follow their mother.

Jun never heard from him.

Or at least, that was what Jun wanted.

Jay had written to him. Every. Single. Day.

Emails filled with pointless details about life outside the palace. What he was doing, what he was eating, how the sky looked, how free he felt.

Each time Jun read them, he had wanted to burn the entire palace down.

And he almost did.

Not figuratively. Not metaphorically. He nearly set the whole place on fire out of pure jealousy.

But what could a six-year-old do?

A six-year-old who had suddenly been dumped with royal obligations and expectations he had never wanted.

"Wow, so it's true that the crown prince is a scoundrel."

A six-year-old Roen Heltix had muttered, voice loud enough that it was definitely not a mutter.

Jun had stood near a table stacked with books, a candle in his hand, the wax nearly dripping onto the pages where his history lessons were written.

Jun froze.

"You do know that nowadays everything can be read online, including history books, right?"

Roen stared up at him, face flat, unimpressed.

Jun’s head snapped toward the tiny intruder.

"W-what is it to you?! And who are you?! How can just any random kid enter the palace?!"

"I am Roen. I am not a kid."

Jun’s lips parted in disbelief.

"Hey, you are completely a kid! You can’t even see what I was doing if not for the fact that you climbed that chair!"

Yes, in fact, Roen had been so small at six years old that he had needed a chair just to see what exactly Jun was doing.

Jun had never been more offended in his life.

Roen had caught him—the Crown Prince of Altea—doing something so unsightly, something so far beneath his status that Jun wanted to disappear on the spot. A prince was supposed to be dignified. A symbol of grace and discipline. Not a child sneaking around, trying to destroy his own history books.

Jun clenched his fists, already preparing an excuse, an argument, anything to salvage his pride.

But then, Roen said something that shook him more than being found out.

"But I like a scoundrel prince more than the smiley one!"

Roen’s big, sparkling eyes stared straight at him, wide and filled with a kind of admiration that Jun had never seen before. The soft glow from the candlelight reflected off those round pupils, making them glisten like polished gems. His plump cheeks, still holding onto the last traces of baby fat, pushed up with a bright smile.

The words froze Jun in place.

"W-What are you even saying, kid?!"

Roen tilted his head. 

"When I came here before, there was a smiley prince. But he looked so scary because his eyes looked like the last time I saw Grandpa."

Jun couldn’t comprehend a single word that just came out of Roen’s mouth.

What smiley prince? What Grandpa?

His mind barely had time to process it before a movement caught his attention.

Roen had shifted too far forward on the chair.

Jun barely registered what was happening before the small figure lost balance.

The chair tipped backward.

A startled gasp escaped as Roen's tiny body lurched forward, his arms flailing. The wooden chair wobbled under him, slipping from its legs as Roen lost his footing.

Jun reacted on instinct.

His arms shot forward, grabbing onto Roen before he could crash onto the ground. The small frame landed right into his chest, the force nearly knocking them both off balance.

And in that moment—Jun let go of the candle.

The base slammed against the wooden table with a heavy thud.

The candle tumbled out, wax splattering as the wick landed straight onto the open history books.

The fire caught instantly.