I Became the Villain Alpha's Omega (BL)

Chapter 269: A Refreshing No

The synchronized gasp that echoed through the ballroom was loud enough to rival the music. Silk fans flew upward in an instant, a hundred pairs of eyes widening behind painted lace as high society collectively lost its mind.

Time seemed to freeze

Yerel stood completely frozen, his arms still slightly extended from his perfectly rehearsed invitation. But the pristine white-and-gold imperial uniform that had looked so majestic a second ago was now completely ruined. Dark, sticky, sweet sparkling juice dripped steadily down the center of his chest, soaked into the gold embroidery of his collar, and slowly trailed down his jaw.

For one horrifying second, the future ruler of the empire looked less like a glorious sun god and more like a deeply offended fruit basket.

Cherion, however, didn’t have time to appreciate his masterpiece.

He immediately sucked in a sharp, dramatic gasp, his eyes widening as he looked at the sticky disaster dripping down the prince’s face.

"Arghhh..." Cherion groaned under his breath, completely ignoring the horrified stares of the surrounding nobles. He didn’t look remorseful at all, he just looked thoroughly annoyed that Yerel’s sheer stupidity had caused him to waste a perfectly good mouthful of sparkling juice.

"Seriously?" Cherion mumbled. "Right in the middle of my dessert time?"

Beside him, Zarius didn’t spare a single glance for the dripping royal heir. His entire focus locking onto his mate. A flash of genuine concern broke through his usual cold expression. Stepping forward, Zarius wrapped an arm around Cherion’s waist to steady him. He smoothly lifted his own arm, using the dark fabric of his heavy silk sleeve to gently wipe the stray, sticky juice from Cherion’s lips and jawline.

"Are you alright?" He carefully tilted Cherion’s chin up, using the soft cloth to wipe the excess juice from his lips and jaw.

"I’m fine," Cherion sighed, leaning into the touch. "Just deeply startled by the sheer lack of sanity in this room."

On the opposite side of the disaster zone, the spell of shock finally broke for Philia.

"Your Highness!" Philia’s voice cracked with horror. He immediately pulled out his own embroidered handkerchief and rushed into Yerel’s personal space. His hands trembled as he frantically dabbed at the prince’s face, neck, and completely ruined clothes. "Hold still, please... Oh goodness, it’s completely soaked through. Someone bring fresh linens immediately!"

Yerel didn’t move. His jaw was clenched so tightly a vein pulsed visibly against his temple. His dark eyes burned with enough rage to set the room on fire as he stared directly at Cherion, who was finally recovering under Zarius’s attentive care.

"Cherion," Yerel hissed. He impatiently brushed Philia’s hand aside and stepped forward. "If you didn’t want to dance with me, you could have simply used your words and said no. There was absolutely no need to engage in such a... vulgar, uncultivated display in the middle of a banquet."

Cherion took one final breath and lightly patted Zarius’s hand to let him know he was fine. He looked down at the stain spreading across Yerel’s chest, then looked up, offering a beautifully hollow, completely unbothered smile.

"My deepest apologies, Your Highness," Cherion said sweetly. "But as you can see, that was my version of a ’no.’ Your request was so ridiculous that my body rejected it before my brain could process what was happening. Honestly, can you blame me? I thought I was hearing things."

Philia’s head snapped toward Cherion, his eyes flashed with protective fury as he stepped half a pace in front of Yerel. "Lord Cherion, mind your tongue! You are speaking to the Crown Prince of this empire. To cause such a scene and then hide behind petty insults is unbecoming of a noble. His Highness approached you with nothing but utmost grace and courtesy, intending to show the court that the palace harbors no ill will toward you. To call his generosity ’ridiculous’ is a direct insult to the throne itself!"

Cherion didn’t even flinch under Philia’s glare. Instead, he tilted his head, his eyes gleaming with faint amusement.

"Courtesy? Generosity?" Cherion let out a soft chuckle, casually gesturing with his empty glass toward Philia. "Lord Philia, I must admit, your loyalty is truly touching, but your logic is fascinating. His Highness claims he approached me out of ’grace’ and a desire to show the court we are on good terms. But from where I am standing, all I see is a man so profoundly shameless that he would loudly demand a dance from his ex-fiancé while completely ignoring the feelings of the current fiancé standing right beside him."

"How grandly you speak for someone hiding in a corner," Philia retorted. "You twist a simple act of imperial benevolence into a cheap melodrama just to flatter your own ego. His Highness and I share a bond that doesn’t falter over basic court pleasantries. He granted me the opening waltz, an honor reserved for the future master of the palace. That you would interpret his subsequent, charitable attempt to acknowledge a fallen acquaintance as an insult to me only proves one thing."

"That was a very pretty speech," Cherion said smoothly, tapping his fingers against his glass. "But if this was just a basic court pleasantry from a prince who has moved on, he would have approached us with standard etiquette. But he didn’t. He walked directly into my personal space, raised his voice to gather a crowd, and demanded a dance right in front of both of our current partners. That isn’t ’charity.’ That is a man desperately trying to provoke his ex. The fact that you have to write a whole script to excuse his shameless behavior is the only melodrama here."

Before Philia could screech further, Yerel sharply raised his right hand, cutting Philia off instantly.

"Philia, enough," Yerel commanded.

Yerel’s expression darkened even further. "Cherion, you cross the line. You stand in the heart of the Capital, yet you behave as though you are above the law. A stunt like this... under normal circumstances, I could easily have you arrested and accused of assaulting a member of the royal family. You should be deeply grateful for my leniency tonight."

Before Cherion could answer, Zarius stepped smoothly in front of him. The Duke completely blocked Yerel’s view. Zarius relaxed his posture slightly to keep up the appearance of weakness, though the air around him still felt heavy and cold.

"Leniency, Your Highness?" Zarius repeated. He let out a small, timed cough into his fist before fixing Yerel with a dead, piercing gaze. "I suggest you mind your words carefully. My mate almost choked to death just now because you decided to invade his personal space with a completely inappropriate request. If anything had happened to him tonight because of your lack of basic court etiquette, do you truly think you could take responsibility for the consequences?"

Cherion lightly peeked out from behind Zarius’s broad shoulder, a deeply mocking, knowing smile plastered across his face as he delivered a massive verbal slap.

"Oh, please, my Lord," e said loudly enough for every gossip-loving noble nearby to hear. "How could His Highness possibly take responsibility for my health, when he couldn’t even manage the basic, bare-minimum responsibility of being loyal to a single fiancé?"

A bitter, arrogant sneer twisted his lips as he tried to aggressively twist the narrative and defend his honor.

"Cherion!" Yerel roared, his royal composure completely shattering as he shouted over Zarius’s shoulder. "How dare you imply such a thing! How could you possibly imply that me simply asking an old acquaintance for a single dance is a betrayal of my fiancé? Are you trying to accuse me of infidelity in my own palace?"

Cherion merely tilted his head, his expression entirely relaxed and dangerous as he dropped the ultimate anchor on the prince’s pride.

"I think you know exactly who I meant, Your Highness," Cherion interrupted smoothly, his tone dripping with effortless sarcasm. "And it certainly wasn’t Philia."

Before Yerel could completely lose control, a high-ranking royal attendant hurried toward them.

"Y-Your Grace, Duke Zarius," the attendant stammered, keeping his eyes firmly glued to the floor. "Please forgive the interruption. His Majesty requests your presence in his private study immediately."

Cherion didn’t waste a single second. He immediately looped his arm through Zarius’s, offering a flawless, perfectly polite, yet deeply mocking nod of his head toward the dripping Crown Prince.

"Well, duty calls, Your Highness," Cherion said cheerfully. "We mustn’t keep His Majesty waiting. Come along, my Lord, let’s get you to your meeting. You shouldn’t overexert yourself standing in such... sticky company too long anyway."

After one last look from Zarius, they turned and walked off, leaving Yerel and Philia standing in the middle as the crowd whispered around them.