Chapter 2

TWO

T he royal ballroom of Tharvis pulsed with an otherworldly energy. Crystalline chandeliers, their facets refracting light in impossible patterns, cast a kaleidoscope of colors across the polished obsidian floor. Each step Azlun took sent ripples of iridescent light dancing beneath his feet as if he walked on the surface of a living, breathing entity.

Through the towering windows, the alien landscape of Tharvis stretched out like a fevered dream. Jagged mountains, their peaks tinged with bioluminescent flora, pierced the violet sky. Twin moons, one a pale blue and the other a deep crimson, hung low on the horizon, their celestial dance a stark reminder of the alien world beyond the opulent walls of the palace.

Azlun’s skin still tingled from his dance and kiss with Venus Arison. He made his way back inside to one of the ornate pillars that lined the room, each one a masterpiece of local artistry, swirling with patterns that seemed to move when he wasn’t looking directly at them. He leaned against it, his eyes drawn magnetically to the garden terrace where he left her.

“By the stars,” he muttered to himself. “She’s nothing like I expected.”

The memory of Venus’s sharp wit and fearless demeanor during their dance replayed in his mind. Her words had been barbed, yet oddly refreshing. In a world where most beings either cowered before him or sought to manipulate him, her brazen honesty was... intoxicating.

Lost in thought, Azlun barely registered the approach of Princess Nyrea until she was upon him. Her silver-blonde hair was styled in an elaborate updo that seemed to defy gravity, adorned with glittering gems that caught the light with every movement. Her pale violet eyes, usually so alluring, now held a predatory gleam that set Azlun’s teeth on edge.

“You seem distracted, My Prince,” Nyrea purred, her hand coming to rest on his arm with practiced familiarity. “Perhaps you need some... entertainment?”

Azlun subtly shifted his weight, breaking contact with her hand. “I appreciate your concern, Princess Nyrea, but I assure you, I’m quite content observing the festivities.”

Nyrea’s eyes narrowed, following Azlun’s gaze to where it rested on Venus. Her porcelain features twisted into a momentary snarl before smoothing out into a carefully crafted mask of indifference.

“That Earth woman?” Nyrea scoffed, her voice dripping with disdain. “She’s nothing more than a primitive curiosity, Azlun. Surely you can’t be serious about this... arrangement.”

Azlun turned to face her fully, his black and gold eyes hardening. “The alliance with Earth is of utmost importance, Princess. And I’d advise against underestimating Miss Arison. She’s far more than meets the eye.”

Nyrea’s facade cracked, raw anger seeping through. “You’ll regret this, Azlun,” she hissed, her nails digging into her palms. “We had something real. Don’t think I’ll stand idly by while you throw it all away for some human plaything.”

With a dramatic swish of her gown, Nyrea stormed off, leaving a wake of startled guests in her path. Azlun released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, tension draining from his shoulders.

“Well, that was quite the show,” a familiar voice chuckled beside him. Amari Stryka stopped next to him, a glass of shimmering color-changing Tharvian wine in her hand. Her sharp green eyes sparkled with amusement. “I thought she might actually breathe fire for a moment there.”

Azlun couldn’t help but laugh. “Amari, your timing is impeccable as always. I was beginning to fear I’d need to call for reinforcements.”

Her brow rose as she sipped her wine. The liquid swirled from deep purple to vibrant blue as it passed her lips. “Reinforcements? Against Nyrea? Please. I’ve seen you face down entire armadas with less concern.”

“Armadas are straightforward,” Azlun grimaced. “Nyrea is... extremely complicated.”

“Mm-hmm,” Amari hummed, her gaze drifting to where Venus stood chatting with Earth officials. “And I suppose Miss Arison is simple?”

Azlun followed her gaze, a small smile on his lips. “Venus is... refreshing. Challenging. She sees me as a person, not a title or a means to an end.”

“Ah,” Amari nodded sagely. “So she’s exactly what you need and everything you fear. No wonder you can’t keep your eyes off her.”

Before Azlun could respond, a booming laugh interrupted their conversation. Dravek, Azlun’s younger brother, approached with Garek in tow. Dravek’s massive frame dwarfed most of the other guests, his intricate royal tattoos glowing faintly beneath his formal attire.

“Brother!” Dravek bellowed, clapping Azlun on the shoulder with enough force to stagger a lesser man. “Why so serious? It’s a celebration!”

Garek, more reserved but no less amused, nodded in greeting. “Indeed. Though I must say, these Earth women are proving to be quite the challenge. One nearly took my head off for complimenting her hair. Apparently, it’s a ‘weave,’ whatever that means.”

Azlun couldn’t help but chuckle. “Perhaps it’s best to stick to complimenting their intelligence, Garek. It seems safer.”

“Safer?” Dravek guffawed. “Where’s the fun in that? I, for one, am enjoying the unpredictability. It’s refreshing to meet women who aren’t afraid to speak their minds.”

“Speaking of which,” Amari interjected, her eyes twinkling mischievously, “our dear prince here seems quite taken with one Earth woman in particular.”

All eyes turned to Azlun, who felt a rare warmth creep up his neck. “Venus is... intriguing,” he admitted. “She’s not afraid to challenge me nor push back against the whole idea of this arrangement.”

Dravek’s grin widened. “Oh ho! A woman who can keep my brother on his toes? This I have to see.”

“Trust me,” Garek added, a knowing smirk on his face, “you should have seen them during the dance. I thought we might have an interplanetary incident on our hands.”

Azlun shook his head, but couldn’t keep the smile from his face. “You’re all impossible.”

“Perhaps,” Amari agreed, her tone turning more serious. “But maybe that’s exactly what you need, Azlun. Someone who sees beyond the prince and challenges you to be more than just a figurehead in this alliance.”

A comfortable silence fell over the group as they each pondered Amari’s words. Azlun’s gaze once again found Venus across the room. She was laughing at something one of the Earth delegates had said, her entire face lighting up with genuine delight. For a moment, Azlun forgot to breathe.

“Well, brother,” Dravek said softly, uncharacteristically serious, “whatever happens, know that we’re behind you. Even if it means facing down the wrath of a scorned Nyrea.”

Garek nodded in agreement. “Indeed. Though perhaps we should increase security around Miss Arison, just in case.”

Azlun tore his eyes from Venus, looking at his friends and family with genuine gratitude. “Thank you, all of you. I have a feeling we’re in for quite the adventure.”

As the night progressed, the jovial atmosphere in the ballroom began to shift. The initial excitement of the wedding celebration gave way to more serious undercurrents, particularly among the Tharvian nobles. Azlun noticed the change, his keen political instincts kicking in despite the festive setting.

He gestured to Garek and Dravek, leading them to a quieter corner of the ballroom. The three of them huddled close, their voices low, a stark contrast to their earlier lighthearted banter.

“We need to discuss the Drakanor Sect,” Azlun said, his tone grave. “I’ve heard whispers that Oran has taken control.”

Dravek’s usually boisterous demeanor sobered immediately. “Oran? Eerion’s younger brother? That’s... concerning.”

Garek nodded, his sharp eyes scanning the room as if searching for potential eavesdroppers. “Indeed. Oran’s always been more calculated than Eerion. If he’s in charge now, we could be facing a far more subtle threat.”

Azlun ran a hand through his hair, a rare display of frustration breaking through his composed exterior. “Exactly. Eerion was all brute force and open rebellion. Oran... he’s a strategist. He’ll be playing a longer game.”

“What are you thinking, brother?” Dravek asked, his massive frame tensed as if preparing for immediate action.

Azlun’s gaze drifted across the room to where Vexor and Raelee were greeting guests, their newly forged bond a symbol of the alliance between Tharvis and Earth. “Dravek, I need you to keep tabs on the sect. Use whatever resources you need, but be discreet. We can’t afford to show our hand too early.”

Dravek nodded solemnly, but Garek held up a hand, his brow furrowed in thought. “Wait a moment. The deal is set now, isn’t it? With Vexor and Raelee married, the alliance is secured. Surely even Oran wouldn’t be foolish enough to jeopardize that?”

Azlun shook his head, a frown darkening his face. “You’re thinking like a diplomat, Garek. Oran doesn’t care about alliances or political stability. He wants Tharvis to return to its warrior roots, to conquer rather than cooperate.”

“But how?” Dravek mused, his voice a low rumble. “The royal wedding was meant to solidify our ties with Earth. What move could Oran possibly make now?”

Azlun’s eyes narrowed as he considered the possibilities. “There are always ways to sow discord, even in times of celebration. They could target the Earth delegates, try to provoke an incident that would strain our newfound alliance.”

“Or worse,” Garek added, his expression grim, “they could go after the brides themselves. Raelee or...”

“Venus,” Azlun finished, a chill running down his spine at the thought. He instinctively sought her out in the crowd, relief washing over him when he spotted her still chatting animatedly with a group of Earth officials.

Dravek noticed his brother’s reaction and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “We won’t let it come to that, Azlun. I’ll double the security detail for both Raelee and Venus, just to be safe.”

Azlun nodded gratefully, but his mind was already racing ahead, strategizing. “We need to think beyond physical threats. Oran’s clever. He might try to manipulate public opinion, spread rumors to undermine trust between our peoples.”

“What about economic sabotage?” Garek suggested. “If they could disrupt the resource trades we’ve been negotiating with Earth, it could cause significant tension.”

“Good thinking,” Azlun agreed. “Dravek, when you’re investigating, pay special attention to any unusual activity in our trading ports or resource processing facilities.”

As the three of them continued to discuss potential threats and countermeasures, the weight of their responsibilities settled heavily upon them. The joyous occasion of the wedding now seemed like a distant memory overshadowed by the looming specter of the Drakanor Sect’s machinations.