Chapter Text
Xaden had been stuck in negotiations all week and boredom had long since set in. Progress was at a standstill and it was clear why. The Aretian Assembly was demanding an independent Tyrrendor. They had come to Navarre’s aid, fought the venin, and restored Navarre’s wards. To them independence seemed only fair. Had he not been there as one of Tyrrendor’s representatives, Xaden might have pointed out that Violet was single-handedly responsible for those achievements, not the Assembly, but he held his tongue. It wouldn’t help their leverage. Though Navarre had kept their demands vague, Xaden knew exactly what they were inching toward: Violet. They hadn’t revealed their hand yet, but it was glaringly obvious that she was the only thing worth fighting over. The fact that she wasn’t even here to take part in these discussions only fueled his frustration. She didn’t belong to Tyrrendor; she wasn’t an asset that could be traded between kingdoms. Still, judging by the intentions of several of the Assembly, Xaden had a sinking feeling they might be willing to try.
The delegation from Navarre was primarily led by King Tauri’s personal council, though Prince Halden occasionally stepped in when he felt strongly about an issue. Xaden had to give him credit, Halden was confident, articulate, and his arguments reflected a sharp, strategic mind. He would undoubtedly make a more capable king than his father. That thought irritated Xaden to no end. Halden never mentioned Violet, but he thought about her constantly. While everyone else in the room saw Violet as a means to an end, her signet or the knowledge she had gained about the wards, Halden’s intentions were different. He simply wanted Violet. Xaden couldn’t reconcile the man before him with the one who had so callously broken her heart. Based on what he had seen of Halden’s intentions, it was clear to Xaden that King Tauri had forced his son’s hand. It was also clear that Halden carried around a deep sense of regret. Despite knowing what it felt like to love and lose Violet Sorrengail, Xaden couldn’t bring himself to feel sympathy for the prince. Halden had chosen his duty to Navarre over his love for Violet, a decision many would view as the mark of a strong leader. To Xaden, it was the act of a coward. Without a doubt, Xaden knew if he were faced with a similar choice, he would choose Violet every time. He already had.
Every day, as negotiations began to wind down, Halden’s intentions would inevitably turn back to Violet. His plan to find her alone, whether in the archives or the courtyard, was always at the forefront of his mind. He needed to apologize, to make her understand that the cruel words he had spoken were not a true reflection of his feelings.
In response to Halden’s shifting attention each afternoon, Xaden would lower his shields and follow the glimmering strand of silver across the quadrant until he stumbled upon Violet. He knew he was cheating at whatever game he was playing with Halden, but Halden didn’t need to know that. It was pure territorial pettiness, and Xaden couldn’t help but indulge in it.
Back in the room, the discussion about which outposts would remain under Tyrrish control concluded without incident. Almost on queue images of Violet flashed through Halden's mind and irritation danced behind Xaden's eyes. Once again the man in front of him was plotting how to win back his woman. Why couldn't this guy take a hint; Violet didn't want anything to do with him. There were plenty of other women in Navarre, hell, in Basgiath, who would be more than willing to slum it with the prince. Xaden wasn't blind; Halden was handsome. And even if Xaden had been too bitter to admit it to himself, over the last week he’d seen desire in the minds of enough women, and more than a few men, to know that the prince wouldn’t have any trouble keeping his bed warm. So why couldn’t Halden choose one of them and leave Violet the fuck alone before he lost all control and added another Tauri to his death count?
“It would appear you're not the only one who has trouble with self discipline around the youngest Sorrengail.” Sgaeyl’s voice cut through his spiraling anger.
“He needs to learn to control himself.” Xaden shot back.
“Like you did?” She chuffed before withdrawing from his mind.
No. Definitely not like he did.
Turning his attention back to the room Xaden watched Brennan call the session to a close. Members of both delegations began to gather their papers, standing from the table in practiced unison. The familiar rhythm of these proceedings filled the room, signaling the end of another day.
Halden rose from the table, his eyes fixed firmly on Xaden. “Riorson, hang back."
One by one, the others began to file out, but Brennan lingered. His hesitation was palpable, an unspoken reluctance to leave Xaden alone with the crown prince. Xaden’s eyebrow arched in challenge, and after a long, tense silence, Brennan exhaled sharply and finally moved toward the door.
Once the last of them had left, the room sank into an oppressive silence. Halden stood motionless for a moment, as if carefully considering his next words. He was always measured, deliberate, something Xaden had come to recognize over the past few days. It made what he'd said to Violet even more damning. Those words hadn’t been a slip of the tongue or an angry outburst; they had been calculated. Xaden hated him for it. Bracing both hands on the back of the chair, Halden turned his gaze toward Xaden.
"Violet’s been avoiding me," he said, his voice tight with frustration, but still carrying the unmistakable authority of someone accustomed to being obeyed. "I know you’re the reason. I need you to put your ego aside and let her speak with me."
Xaden’s face remained blank, but shadows began to pool at his feet in a silent warning. "I don’t let Violence do anything. If she wanted to speak with you, she would have already." It was true enough. While Xaden took pleasure in making things harder for Halden, he would never prevent Violet from getting closure if that was what she wanted.
An image of Halden landing a punch across his jaw flashed through Xaden’s mind before vanishing just as quickly. Halden’s restraint was fascinating. He wielded control over himself with a precision few men possessed, able to contemplate an action, then pull back within the same moment. A satisfied smirk spread across Xaden's face. It didn’t matter that the prince had thought better of striking him—finally, finally, Xaden was getting under Halden’s skin. Nothing would make him happier than having an excuse to take Tauri to the mat, but he knew Violence wouldn't like that. He’d have to help Halden come to that conclusion on his own. If, while defending himself, Halden’s face happened to run repeatedly into Xaden's fist, all the better.
When Halden remained silent, Xaden took a dismissive step toward the door and added, "You have a real talent for fucking things up with her all on your own.” The shadows in the room flickered mockingly, as if they found humor in Xaden's words. “I have no interest in standing in the way of you making things worse." The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Halden standing alone, teeth clenched and fists balled, fury radiating from him.