The Prince's Arranged Marriage Chapter 80: The road back to Avaloria

By the ti the spires of Avaloria appeared on the horizon, Lucien felt like he had lived a dozen lives on the road.

The journey back stretched behind them in fragnts long carriage rides beneath open skies, crowded inns that slled of smoke and bread, endless conversations with officials who spoke too much and said too little. Provinces blurred together in his mory, stitched by routine inspections and polite smiles.

So places had welcod them warmly.

Others had smiled like it was a duty.

Lucien leaned back against the carriage cushions, watching the distant outline of the capital grow sharper with every passing mile. Avaloria’s white stone towers caught the sunlight, bright and imposing, exactly as he rembered.

Ho. Or sothing close to it, now.

Alexander sat beside him, one arm draped lazily along the back of the seat, the other resting near Lucien’s knee. The carriage rocked gently as the horses moved, and Lucien let himself sway with the rhythm.

"We survived," Lucien said lightly, breaking the comfortable silence.

Alexander glanced at him, one brow lifting. "That was never in doubt."

Lucien smiled and shifted closer anyway, their knees brushing. "You say that now. But I distinctly rember a town where the innkeeper tried to poison us with overcooked stew."

Alexander snorted. "That was not poison. That was incompetence."

"Still dangerous."

Alexander turned fully toward him then, eyes warm, amused. "You handled it well."

Lucien shrugged. "I smiled, asked questions, and pretended I didn’t notice half the things I noticed."

"That," Alexander said, leaning in just enough to press a soft kiss to Lucien’s mouth, "is exactly why they underestimate you."

Lucien laughed quietly, stealing another kiss before settling back again. The affection ca easily now. Naturally. There had been a ti when even touching Alexander in public felt like a statent. Now it felt like breathing.

The inspections themselves had been exhausting. Province after province, Lucien had listened to reports, walked through markets, spoken to farrs and rchants and guards. He had learned to read the space between words, to notice when praise ca too quickly or answers felt rehearsed.

Alexander had been quieter during those weeks. Watching. Listening. Making notes Lucien never saw.

At night, in borrowed rooms and temporary lodgings, Alexander had loosened again. They had shared beds more often than not sotis talking until sleep took them, sotis kissing like they needed to remind themselves that this part was real.

Lucien glanced out the window again. Avaloria was close now. The road grew wider, cleaner. Guards bearing the royal crest appeared at regular intervals.

A strange tightness settled in his chest.

"Does it ever feel strange," Lucien asked softly, "coming back after being away?"

Alexander’s hand slid to his thigh, grounding. "Always."

Lucien looked at him. "Even for you?"

"Especially for ."

The capital gates lood ahead. Trumpets sounded faintly in the distance, carried on the breeze. Lucien straightened unconsciously, posture shifting into sothing more regal.

Alexander noticed, of course. He always did.

"You don’t have to put the armor on yet," Alexander murmured.

Lucien exhaled. "Old habits."

Alexander smiled and kissed him again, slower this ti. "You did well out there."

Lucien felt warmth bloom in his chest. "We did."

------------------------Alexander----------------------

Alexander watched Avaloria rise before them and catalogued the feeling carefully.

Relief. Satisfaction. Unease.

Travel had sharpened his awareness in ways court life never quite did. On the road, patterns erged faster. Reactions were less controlled. Officials slipped when they thought no one important was watching.

He had seen enough to know things were not as simple as they appeared.

But that was a concern for later.

For now, his attention remained where it belonged.

Lucien sat beside him, bright-eyed despite the fatigue that clung to him like a second skin. He had handled the journey better than most seasoned royals would have. He listened more than he spoke, rembered nas, asked questions that disard rather than challenged.

And when pressure mounted, Lucien never retreated. He adapted.

Alexander’s fingers brushed over Lucien’s knee again, reassuring himself that he was here. Safe. Smiling.

The capital guard ford up as the carriage approached. Banners fluttered. The sound of the city voices, hooves, distant bells rose to et them.

Avaloria always greeted its princes loudly.

The carriage rolled through the gates, and Lucien leaned forward to peer out, expression soft with sothing like wonder. Alexander had seen that look before during festivals, during quiet monts overlooking the city from palace balconies.

Lucien loved this place. Not blindly, but deeply.

Alexander loved him for that.

The streets were lined with citizens, so bowing, so waving, others simply staring. Lucien raised a hand in greeting, smile easy and genuine. Alexander watched the crowd closely, eyes sharp, noting who cheered and who only watched.

The palace ca into view soon after vast, familiar, unyielding in its stone certainty.

As the carriage ca to a halt, attendants moved quickly. Doors opened. Protocol resud.

Alexander stepped out first, offering his hand to Lucien. Lucien took it without hesitation, fingers warm in his.

They descended together.

The air felt different here. Heavier. Charged.

Inside the palace walls, everything returned to its ordered rhythm. Servants bowed. Officials murmured greetings. Schedules were recited.

Alexander listened, nodded, dismissed half of it for later.

When they were finally alone again walking the familiar corridors toward their shared chambers Lucien let out a breath.

"I forgot how tall the ceilings were," he said.

Alexander huffed softly. "You say that every ti."

"And every ti I an it."

Their chambers welcod them with quiet and space. Sunlight filtered through high windows, casting warm patterns across the floor.

Lucien kicked off his boots without ceremony and stretched. "I missed this bed."

Alexander locked the door behind them and crossed the room in a few long strides. He pulled Lucien into his arms, kissing him deeply, unhurried, as if reclaiming sothing that had been temporarily set aside.

Lucien lted into it instantly, hands fisting in Alexander’s coat. The road dust, the weeks of public restraint, the endless eyes all of it faded.

When they finally pulled apart, Lucien rested his forehead against Alexander’s chest.

"So," Lucien murmured. "Back to court politics."

Alexander brushed a thumb along Lucien’s jaw. "Tomorrow."

Lucien smiled. "Good."

Alexander held him a mont longer, gaze drifting toward the windows, toward the city beyond.

They were back.

And whatever awaited them next would begin here.