Chapter 469: A Little Too Persistent

Karson looked at the closed door for a long moment, his face calm enough that no one would have guessed what he was thinking.

Beside him, Valen stood with one shoulder against the wall, looking perfectly relaxed. Karson, however, was already taking note of every little thing about him.

Valen was Philia’s personal attendant, assigned to him shortly after Philia first set foot in the palace. He was an academy top graduate, sharp, exceptionally skilled with a blade, and possessing an enviable record. By all official standards, he was just a dedicated attendant doing his job with remarkable discipline, and over the time, he and Philia had naturally grown close.

Karson had always respected his competence. Yet beneath that easygoing, capable exterior, there was something about Valen that had never quite sat right with him. He was too vigilant, too observant, and far too protective for an ordinary royal attendant.

There had also been a growing attentiveness in Valen’s manner toward him, one that Karson understood well enough without needing it explained.

Karson folded his hands behind his back, his fingers settling neatly over one another.

"It is genuinely nice to see a colleague care so much about my personal life, Sir Valen," Karson said, his voice dropping into a smooth, polite, yet undeniably distant register. "However, I must warn you, do not cross the boundary line. My personal matters are my own."

Valen didn’t back off. Instead, a lazy, mischievous smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as his eyes lingered on Karson’s sharp profile, clearly enjoying his reaction.

"Ah, come on, Sir Karson," Valen drawled softly, his voice carrying a light, teasing lilt as he turned his body fully toward him. "I’m just making an honest observation. First love is indeed hard to forget. It sits right in your chest, it can’t be replaced, and it makes a complete mess of your head. I get it."

Valen took a half-step closer, the casual sway of his shoulders crowding Karson’s space just enough to feel intentional.

"But there’s nothing wrong with starting to chase someone else, you know," Valen continued, his locked onto Karson’s face with a quiet, persistent warmth. "Or to accept someone who happens to be standing right in front of you."

Karson closed his eyes for a brief second, letting out a tired, long sigh that rustled his hair. "Sir Valen..."

"You don’t like it when people tell you to give up, do you?" Valen interrupted softly, the teasing note in his voice fading into something quieter and more serious. He leaned closer, lowering his voice. "So don’t ask me to give up, either. Just like a certain someone... I don’t really know how to give up, either."

Karson opened his eyes, meeting Valen’s gaze straight on with calm, polite resistance. He didn’t push Valen back, nor did he look flustered, but the invisible wall between them remained ironclad.

"I am flattered, Sir Valen," Karson murmured, his voice as cool and smooth as polished jade. "But your persistence is wasted on someone whose loyalty and attention are already fully occupied."

Valen simply chuckled, a low, quiet sound in his throat. He took a tiny step back to give Karson air, but he didn’t lower his gaze for a second, making it abundantly clear that no matter how politely Karson evaded him, he had zero intention of backing off.

"Fully occupied," Valen repeated, tasting the words like a bitter tea. He tilted his head, studying Karson’s face as the other man refused to look away. "You wrap yourself up in that duty like a shroud, Sir Karson. You stand outside these doors, playing the perfect aide, pretending that if you just hold your breath long enough, the shadow you’re chasing will suddenly turn around and look at you."

Karson’s jaw tightened, the faint muscle along his cheek twitching once before settling back into rigid stillness. "My duties to His Highness are clear, Sir Valen. I do not chase shadows."

"Don’t lie to me," Valen murmured, stepping into Karson’s space again. "I see the way you look when his name is spoken in passing. I see how you freeze whenever the north is mentioned. You’re bleeding out for someone who isn’t even looking at you, and you call it loyalty."

Karson’s jaw clutched so tightly that a sharp, pale line cut along his cheekbone. The cold, unyielding composure he had perfected over years of serving in the palace trembled, just for a fraction of a second, under the sheer weight of Valen’s words.

Slowly, Karson turned his head, his dark eyes locking onto Valen’s with an icy, lethal stillness. The silence in the corridor stretched paper-thin, heavy enough to snap under the weight of a single breath.

"And what is it that you really want from me, Sir Valen?" Karson asked. "Why go through all this trouble to pick at old wounds that do not belong to you?"

Valen didn’t flinch. Instead, a slow, fond smile spread across his lips, one that held zero mock, but was entirely brimming with quiet, dangerous certainty.

"Oh, I know you already know the answer to that, Sir Karson," Valen drawled softly, his eyes softening as he looked down at him. "But if you really want me to say it out loud... fine."

Valen took one more deliberate step forward, completely closing the distance between them until the faint warmth of his breath brushed against Karson’s temple. He leaned in close, his movements slow and deliberate, his gaze never leaving Karson’s face.

"I want you to give me a chance," Valen murmured, the teasing disappearing from his voice, replaced by a quiet seriousness that caught Karson off guard. "Give us a chance. Stop standing in the dark waiting for someone who isn’t here, and let me show you what it feels like to be chosen by someone who is actually standing right in front of you."

Karson remained frozen, his chest rising and falling in slow, controlled increments as Valen’s words hung heavily between them, refusing to vanish into the shadows of the empty hallway.

Before Karson could open his mouth to pull back his composure, Valen tilted his head and leaned in.

It wasn’t a sudden or aggressive movement, but it was absolute. Valen didn’t press for a deep kiss, nor did he demand a response. Instead, he brushed his lips against the very corner of Karson’s lower lip, the touch so light and brief that it still sent a sharp jolt down Karson’s spine.