His mind racing, Royce looked down at his hands. He found his fingers clenched so hard his knuckles stood out white against his sun-bronzed skin. He breathed in deeply, forcing himself to relax.
It wasn’t necessarily a disaster. It would be a political marriage, a means for good publicity, and meant to convince the hesitating senators that the peace would be sustainable—and to ensure that the Pelugians wouldn’t stick a knife in their backs.
So in theory, the prince’s designation didn’t change anything.
Royce nearly laughed at himself. Who was he kidding? A marriage between two alphas was unheard of for a reason, and it wasn’t because alphas couldn’t want other alphas. Although Royce wasn’t one of them, there were alphas that were attracted to other alphas. It was very rare and taboo, but such things happened. The problem was, sustaining an alpha-alpha relationship was impossible. It was biologically difficult for two alphas to live together without trying to establish dominance over their partner, and such rare relationships tended to quickly turn violent, abusive, and toxic. Considering that the alpha in question was an enemy general responsible for countless deaths in his country and Royce already disliked the man before even meeting him, this was a disaster in waiting. And since he was pretending to be a beta, everyone would expect him to defer to his alpha husband—or at least the traditionalists would expect it. Not that Royce gave a fuck about their opinions.
As far as the traditionalists were concerned, an alpha was supposed to mate only an omega and keep the omega pregnant year in and year out. They would consider a marriage between a male alpha and a male beta a waste, since they couldn’t have children the traditional way.
“I’m surprised Prince Haydn requested a beta,” Royce said. “From everything I’ve heard of him, he sounds like a traditionalist.”
Taube shrugged. “I’ve heard rumors that he likes the challenge of betas and considers omegas too easy.”
Royce almost laughed. It was kind of ironic. If Haydn Schaefer liked a challenge, he was going to be in for a nice surprise—if they managed not to kill each other within a week.
“All right,” Royce said, getting to his feet. “When is the wedding?”
Taube smiled. “In two days.”
Chapter Two
Haydn stared at himself in the mirror, eyeing his new suit critically. The dark fabric hugged his broad shoulders and accentuated his trim waist. Few would probably guess how much effort he put into keeping himself in such shape. Haydn was naturally rather lean, but his intense training and years of war had shaped his physique into one most alphas were born with. He wondered idly if he would become leaner again if the war actually ended.
Shaking the errant thought off, Haydn ran a hand through his carefully styled hair and smiled at his own vanity. There was no use “prettying himself up” for this, as Devlin would say. This was just a political arrangement. His future spouse wasn’t going to care what he looked like.
A knock on the door made him flinch.
“Your Highness, His Majesty and the Queen are waiting for you in the plane.”
“Thank you, I’m coming.”
***
The flight to Citra, Kadar’s capital, didn’t take long, but it was excruciating nonetheless. Haydn was forced to listen to his father’s angry tirade about how the wedding ceremony should have taken place in their kingdom and how humiliating—and dangerous—it was that they had to travel into enemy territory.
“Father, the Kadarians are hardly going to attack us in front of the Galactic Council representative,” Haydn said in his most patient voice, but of course his father ignored his words. As usual.
Haydn had never been more relieved to get off a plane. He loved his father and had looked up to him as a boy, but as an adult, he could tolerate him only in small doses. There were too many things he disagreed with him on, things he had to keep his mouth shut about, because King Stefan wasn’t interested in opinions besides his own.
As the helicopter took them from the airport to the Opal House, Haydn looked at the city with interest. He’d never been to Citra before. He had to admit the sleek, minimalist architecture of Kadar’s capital was very pleasing to the eye. The Opal House, the prime minister’s official residence, was a tall building in the center of the city. As the helicopter landed on its roof, Haydn took a deep breath, his heart beating fast.
Here goes nothing.
He hadn’t expected to recognize the beta the Kadarians had picked to represent their country.
But one look at the tall man who stood beside Prime Minister Taube was enough for Haydn to place him.
Senator Royce Cleghorn was one of the few Kadarian politicians who were well known even in Pelugia. In politics since a young age, he was the leader of the Liberal party, famous for his single-minded pursuit of his goals. He was rumored to be the current favorite to win the prime minister position next year. Haydn wasn’t sure how true those rumors were. The Kadarian political system was a confusing one. There used to be an elected president, but after their last president was removed from the position with a vote of no-confidence, the constitution had been rewritten, and the prime minister was now elected through a combination of a popular vote and the Senate voting. Haydn wasn’t sure of the particulars, but he had heard that Royce Cleghorn was immensely popular both in the Senate and among the general population, so unless something happened to destroy his reputation, Cleghorn was likely going to be the next Head of State.