Chapter 4 Four

The wedding was a small affair, with only their closest family members present.

There were more members of the press than there were guests.

There were certainly more political speeches than congratulations to the newlyweds.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, it was over. The press left, Lord Ksar'ngh'chaali offered dry congratulations and departed, too, after warning them that he would come back in a few months for the election of their new Lord Chancellor or at least that was what he'd said.

Cynically, Haydn thought he would come because he didn't trust them to maintain the peace. Either way, there were only the two families left, and Prime Minister Taube.

The latter was speaking to Cleghorn. His husband. Haydn still couldn't entirely believe it. He had a husband. A husband he'd met a few hours ago. It seemed surreal.

"Haydn." He turned at the sound of his father's voice.

"Your Majesty?" King Stefan looked displeased, but then again, he always did.

"I don't want to stay here longer than necessary. Let's take our leave now that this farce is finally over. I have already told the pilot to prepare our plane for departure."

Haydn nodded and looked at his mother. She was speaking to Cleghorn's mother.

"I'll let Mother know and then we can go"

"Where are you going?" The familiar deep voice made Haydn freeze.

He turned and looked at Cleghorn at his husband. The beta was eyeing them with a frown, his dark eyes flicking from Stefan to Haydn and back.

Before Haydn could say anything, his father answered coldly, "We're taking our leave."

Cleghorn's frown deepened. He looked at Stefan for a long moment before saying mildly, "I wish you and your wife a safe flight, but my husband will stay here." A vein twitched at Stefan's temple.

"I beg your pardon?" he ground out. "I and my family are leaving." His tone was final.

"Come, Haydn." Cleghorn laid a hand on Haydn's shoulder.

"My husband will stay here," he repeated, his voice like steel. A hysterical laugh bubbled up Haydn's throat.

His father's face was priceless. Haydn honestly couldn't remember the last time someone dared to contradict his father, much less a beta doing it.

Not that betas couldn't be self-assured, but it was biologically difficult for betas to stand up to alphas: alpha pheromones usually were too oppressive and intimidating.

Even now his father's alpha pheromones were trying to subdue Cleghorn's will, but, to Haydn's astonishment, Cleghorn didn't seem affected at all, his expression firm and unimpressed. "Your husband?" Stefan said, sneering.

"The Galactic Council official has left, and there are no reporters here anymore; there's no need to keep up the act. We all know this so-called marriage is nothing but a farce."

Cleghorn looked at the king steadily.

"You're being either naive or short-sighted if you think we can simply drop the 'act' now that Lord Ksar is gone. There is no act. For the peace to last, our people need to believe that we're serious about the peace and about this union. Your son is married to me. He is my husband, and he can't leave Kadar so soon. It certainly would make it obvious to everyone that this marriage is nothing but a farce and render everything we've done today pointless." Haydn frowned thoughtfully. Cleghorn was right.

He did need to stay for a while. But his father had never allowed anyone's opinion to change his own, and Haydn doubted he was going to start now. Stefan's reddening face confirmed it.

"You" "Father," Haydn cut in, keeping his voice firm but respectful of the tone he'd perfected over the decades. He needed to help his father save face, or Stefan would never give in.

"I agree with you: Senator Cleghorn's point is valid. I will stay in Kadar for a short while and then come home. You and Mother should go ahead." For a moment, he thought his father would explode.

But then Stefan took a deep breath and then let it out.

"Fine," he bit off. "We expect you home soon." And grabbing his wife, he strode out of the room, not even bothering to say goodbye to Haydn.

Haydn sighed, watching his parents leave with mixed feelings. On one hand, he was relieved to be away from his father's nagging, but he was also very conscious that he was now alone in a foreign country, among people who had no love for him; quite the opposite.

He turned back to Cleghorn, and they just stared at each other for a moment, wary and tense.

"Cleghorn" "Royce. You're supposed to be my husband." "Royce," Haydn said.

"While I don't appreciate you making choices and speaking for me without consulting me first, I admit your point was valid: I can't leave right now."

"But?"

"But I'm the crown prince," Haydn said.

"I can't stay here long. I have duties I can't abandon. My father expects me to return to them soon." Royce's black eyes bored into him.

"What would those duties be?"

"I'm the General of the Pelagian army, for one thing."

"What would you need the army for if you expect the peace to last?" Haydn glared at him, his scent sharpening.

"Are you implying Pelugia intends to double-cross Kadar?" Royce gave him a steady look.

"I'm implying nothing, Your Highness. I'm simply asking a question." "Haydn," Haydn ground out.

"Aren't I supposed to be your husband? Or do you remember it only when it's convenient for you?" Royce's nostrils flared. He stalked forward until they were nose to nose.

They were the same height, or perhaps Royce was slightly taller; it was hard to be certain when they were so close. Haydn inhaled shakily, his heart pounding in his ears.

Royce's neutral scent was laced with something thicker, darker, something that made Haydn's skin prickle with agitation.

"Haydn," Royce said.

"You are my husband. I didn't forget it. You will come with me to Cleghorn. You will attend various events with me for good publicity. You will stay here in Kadar until people buy our marriage." Haydn wanted to tell him to fuck off. Not because of what Royce was saying, but because of that infuriating, high-handed tone. No one talked to him that way. How dare he.

He felt his scent become thicker a natural alpha reaction to being threatened but Royce didn't even flinch.

He continued staring Haydn down, that smell of ozone and wet soil appearing in his scent again and becoming so oppressive it made Haydn shudder.

The moment stretched. The tension crackled like static electricity, caught between their two bodies.

All he could see were black eyes staring him down intently. Haydn was the first to look away.

"All right," he said, unable to believe himself. If his father were here, if he saw his alpha son submitting to a beta's will, he would disown him on the spot.

Royce's scent became less overwhelming, but it didn't quite shift back to his neutral scent, the sharp undertones lingering.

"Good," Royce said and stepped back. Haydn let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. What the everlasting fuck.

They traveled to Cleghorn with Royce's mother and sister.

The trip on the helicopter took half an hour, and Haydn spent it getting to know his husband's relatives while said husband was looking out the window, contributing next to nothing to the conversation.

At least, unlike some people, his relatives seemed nice enough. Royce's mother, Vagrippa Cleghorn, was a beta.

She must have been in her late sixties, but she still looked lovely, her face barely lined. Belinda Cleghorn was exceptionally pretty, her omega scent sweet and inoffensive.

She was twenty-one, with the same black hair and black eyes her eldest brother had. She also had another brother, a male alpha four years her senior.

"Aksel is coming home soon," Belinda told him excitedly.

"Now that the war is over, his deployment will end." Her eyes were bright with joy.

"I miss him so much." "We all do, dear," Vagrippa said, shooting her eldest son a look Haydn couldn't quite read. "He should have never left." Royce's jaw was locked.

He said nothing. Haydn wondered about the strange tension between the mother and the son, but he didn't ask. He barely knew these people. At last, they arrived.

Haydn got out of the helicopter and stared at the handsome mansion. It was smaller than his father's palace, but not by much. It wasn't as tall, but it was more sprawling.

"Welcome to Cleghorn, Haydn," Vagrippa said.

"Your new home." Haydn gave her a faint smile. He doubted he would stay here long enough to start thinking of this place as a home.

He cocked his head to the side as he noticed someone standing on the steps that led to the front door. As they approached, it became obvious that the person was a male omega.

He must have been around Haydn's age, maybe older, but he smelled unclaimed, which was unusual for an omega over thirty, especially one that was so beautiful.

And he was. Light brown, wavy hair, large green eyes, a very lovely face with delicate bone structure and perfect skin, and a petite, fit body curvy in all the right places: this man looked like a picture-perfect omega.

"Lucien!" Belinda said, grabbing the omega's hand and leaning in to kiss his cheek.

"Allow me to introduce you to" "Belinda," Vagrippa said sharply.

"It's custom for the man of the house to introduce his spouse himself." Belinda flushed, looking apologetically at her brother. Royce didn't look like he cared one way or the other.

"This is my husband, Haydn Schaefer," he said, putting a hand on Lucien's shoulder.

"This is Lucien," he said, giving the omega a soft smile. Haydn pursed his lips, annoyed. This is Lucien. Really? He wasn't even going to explain who the omega was.

He breathed in deeply, trying to rein in his temper, not understanding why this bothered him so much.

But taking deep breaths only served to make him more aware of Lucien's sweet scent. The scent of a fertile unclaimed omega.

Lucien had had his heat very recently; that was why his scent was overwhelmingly sweet.

Haydn noticed that Royce was watching him carefully, his eyes slightly narrowed.

At first, he was confused before realizing that Royce must have felt protective of that omega. It rubbed Haydn the wrong way for reasons he couldn't quite put his finger on.

Did his husband think he was so uncivilized that he couldn't control himself around an omega fresh out of the heat? He was hardly a green alpha who'd recently popped his first knot.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Haydn said in his nicest voice, stretching his hand out. After a moment, Lucien smiled at him tentatively and grasped it.

"You are very lucky," he said. His voice was pleasant and melodic. A perfect omega voice.

"Royce is wonderful. The best man I know."

"You're exaggerating," Royce said with a laugh, his eyes fond as he gazed at the omega. Lucien grinned at him.

"No, I'm not" He let out a pained sound and yanked his hand out of Haydn's grasp, his scent spiking with anxiety and wariness.

"I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" Haydn said, shrugging apologetically.

"Sometimes I don't know my strength." Royce laid a hand on Haydn's shoulder, gripping it a little too tightly.

In clear warning. Haydn stiffened. The touch seemed to be burning him even through the layers of his clothes.

"Let's go inside," Royce said, steering him toward the front door.

To onlookers, it probably looked like Royce was being an attentive husband, but Haydn could feel the hardness of his grip. It didn't hurt, but it could.

They both knew it. It made Haydn's skin prickle.

Once they reached the house, everything was a bit of a blur.

He was introduced to the staff and shown around by the friendly housekeeper.

His husband accompanied them on the tour but remained silent, stone-faced, watching Haydn with a sharp, strange look in his eyes. By the end of the tour, Haydn felt like screaming. Or punching someone.

His skin was crawling with terrible awareness and he was subconsciously pumping out alpha pheromones for no damn reason. He felt threatened, but he wasn't even sure why.

Everyone was friendly and nice to him as if he were a real husband of their boss rather than a political match.

When they reached Royce's office, the beta thanked the housekeeper and pushed Haydn inside it. The door shut with a hard thud, and they were alone.

"What was that?" Royce said. Haydn crossed his arms over his chest.

"What was what?" Royce stepped closer until they were toe to toe. Black eyes bored into him.

"The way you behaved with Lucien. It was unacceptable."

"I did nothing. I was nice."

"Your body language wasn't nice. Nor was your scent." Royce grimaced.

"Look, don't take it personally, but you should cut that alpha bullshit out when you're in this house, especially around Lucien."

Haydn pressed his lips into a thin line. Lucien this, Lucien that.

"Why? What's so special about Lucien?" His voice was snider than he'd intended. Royce's eyes hardened. "It's not my story to tell. Just stay away from him."