Chaos' Heir



The meeting had to end right afterward due to the late hour, and busy days followed due to the massive number of duties. Everyone had a role in the wedding, and Khan and Monica had multiple ones, which required additional preparations.

The Rassec family had placed a team of specialized attendants on Khan and Monica to prepare them for the event. The couple complied with everything they said, even if most duties were boring and purely ceremonial.

However, one exception existed. Every morning, the attendants escorted Khan and Monica into a private ballroom to test and give directives on their dancing skills. Khan wasn't fond of that practice, but Monica loved it, and her happiness affected him.

The third day inside the space station began as the previous. Attendants knocked on Monica and Khan's door, who were already ready for their dance lessons. Guests had started to arrive, but the hour was early, so the couple avoided potential encounters during their march to the private ballroom.

The ballroom worked as a training hall. It was circular, but the same menus shone on its floor and surfaces. The attendants only had to tap their feet to seal it and make the speakers fill the area with enjoyable, slow music.

Khan and Monica had gotten used to that routine by then. They were already at the ballroom's center when the music started, and genuine smiles shone on their faces while they looked into each other's eyes.

The couple lifted their arms on the appointed beat to assume the proper dancing position. Khan's left hand grabbed Monica's right while his other palm went to her waist. Meanwhile, she slid her left hand on his shoulder, and their feet began moving.

Monica's chuckles mixed with the music as the couple swung left and right, spun, and closed the distance between them. The attendants often shouted directives, which the two did their best to follow, and the performance improved with each passing minute.

Of course, Monica was already perfect at the dance, but her education had mainly focused on proper forms. Now, she was in Khan's arms, and holding back from having fun wasn't possible, leading to occasional mistakes.

As for Khan, he truly couldn't get behind that tradition, but Monica was beyond happy, so nothing else mattered. He also loved the message their dance would send to the world and couldn't wait to replace their tracksuits with actual dresses.

In theory, that training was supposed to go undisturbed for the entire morning, but one of the ballroom's entrances opened after almost two hours. The event surprised the attendants, too, but they didn't utter a single word when they recognized the two newcomers.

The man on the left was tall and handsome, with curly brown hair stretching to his shoulders. His tracksuit hid defined muscles, and his green eyes darted left and right while entering the ballroom.

Instead, the man on the right was blonde, shorter, and leaner but no less handsome. Still, his green eyes remained fixed on the couple, allowing them to see the oddly dilated pupils.

Khan didn't need his heightened senses to read the situation. The security clearance and the attendants' reaction said a lot about the two newcomers. He could immediately understand that a Prince had walked in, and finding out who was who turned out to be quite easy.

The curly man was a fourth-level warrior with an aura that reeked of battle experience. His expression wasn't as stern as Jack's or Anselm's, but some heaviness still filled it.

Instead, the blonde man conveyed casual and relaxed vibes. He was only a third-level warrior, too, but Khan spotted one troublesome detail about his mana.

'He is high,' Khan noticed, instinctively leaning to his left to partially hide Monica from the newcomers.

The music didn't stop, but Monica and Khan did. That unexpected presence had to be addressed before resuming the training, but the blonde man took care of that.

"Please," The blonde man exclaimed. "Don't let us interrupt you."

The attendants sealed the ballroom again, and Monica and Khan exchanged a look. They knew some big shots had just walked in, but chances were they were only checking them, which was reasonable due to the monumental event.

Khan felt slightly worried due to the blonde man's state, but Monica's smile eventually made him forget about his surroundings. The two resumed dancing, losing themselves in that intimate practice they couldn't wait to show to the world.

A few minutes had to pass before the appointed break arrived. The music stopped, and Khan and Monica separated to perform traditional bows. That marked the end of the dance, but the ballroom wasn't done with them.

Clapping noises spread through the ballroom. The blonde man applauded the couple, but anyone could tell Monica claimed most of his attention. His smirk had also grained lecherous vibes, which his mana confirmed more clearly.

"Bravo!" The blonde man shouted, finally stopping clapping. "A bit sloppy near the end, but beautiful nonetheless."

Monica and Khan limited themselves to formal bows to accept the compliment, and the man didn't hesitate to continue with an introduction. "Prince Samuel Rassec. At your service."

Prince Samuel also performed an elegant bow, but his gesture didn't trick the couple. Khan had nothing but wariness in his mind, and Monica had already worn her political façade by the time she straightened her back.

"Captain Khan," Prince Samuel announced, stepping toward the couple, "My little cousin's best man. You are exactly how I imagined you."

Khan wanted to add a cold remark, but the Prince didn't stop speaking as his attention moved to Monica. "Miss Solodrey. Enchanted."

The Prince had reached the couple by then, and his body language hinted that he wanted to kiss Monica's hand. Yet, she ignored that silent request and opted for a formal greeting.

"It's an honor to meet you, Prince Samuel," Monica exclaimed, half-bowing again.

The Prince didn't like that outcome. His smile slightly froze as his eyes inspected every second of Monica's bow, paying special attention to her curves.

It only took an instant for the Prince's eyes to freeze, too. Nothing escaped Khan's senses, so that evident sexual interest triggered his anger, spreading a chilling presence that the Prince experienced even in his strange state.

However, another powerful presence promptly flared. The curly-haired man had remained behind, but his eyes fell on Khan as soon as he felt the chilling aura. That was a warning due to a potential threat to the Prince's safety, but Khan ignored it.

The curly-haired man couldn't help but feel surprised, but Khan didn't care. He watched Prince Samuel straighten his back and move his attention to him before reaffirming his glare to send an unmistakable message. Khan also waited for understanding to dawn upon the young man before finally looking at the noble guard.

Monica was no stranger to those situations. She didn't have Khan's senses, but her beauty had put her in that position multiple times. Still, she wasn't alone anymore, and her role there was clear.

Khan and the noble guard had barely spent a second gauging each other when Monica intervened. Her hand slid on Khan's torso, claiming his attention while reaching for his neck. She wanted a kiss, and Khan complied.

The romantic scene added some bitterness to Prince Samuel's mood. He felt challenged, insulted, and angry. His strange state even intensified those emotions, leading to a petty counterattack.

"I couldn't help but notice that the Captain is still inexperienced at this," Prince Samuel stated, a seemingly innocent smile shining on his face. "Miss Solodrey, would you mind pairing with me to show your partner how it's done?"

"We are doing fine, Prince Samuel," Khan immediately replied.

"Is fine enough for my cousin's wedding?" Prince Samuel asked.

The question cornered Khan. He had no leverage in that situation. The political world demanded that he sent Monica into that man's arms, but his mana opposed the idea, generating violent thoughts that leaked into his aura.

"Dear," Monica intervened, knowing what was happening inside Khan's mind.

Khan found a calm and confident expression when he turned. Monica was smiling at him while her hand rested on his chest.

"Prince Samuel has been kind enough to offer his help," Monica said. "Accepting it is a duty."

Of course, Monica's words didn't carry a single truth, and Khan could read between the lines. She was asking him to trust her, which he did from the bottom of his heart.

"Very well," Khan sighed, nodding at Monica before glancing at Prince Samuel. "I'll do my best to learn from this opportunity."

Prince Samuel felt elated. He could see the couple's struggle, which deepened his ego. His status could force men to hand out their women, and Khan's fame made him decide to savor the experience as much as possible.

"We need some space," Prince Samuel exclaimed, occupying a spot before Monica and lifting his arms. "Please, watch carefully."

Khan was ready to explode, but Monica met his eyes, fueling his self-restraint. Still, even as Khan stepped back, his mana went wilder. He himself didn't know what would happen once the Prince's hand touched Monica's waist.

Luckily for Khan, Monica knew her boyfriend through and through. She took Prince Samuel's hand but kept her distance. Also, when the Prince was about to reach for her waist, she grabbed his forearm, stopping him.

"I'm a taken woman, Prince Samuel," Monica warned in her elegant tone. "Please, refrain from such improper gestures."

"There is nothing improper in a traditional dance," Prince Samuel explained, trying to force his arm forward, only for Monica to hold it in its place.

"I insist," Monica responded. "I wouldn't want to feel dishonored before my future fiancé."

The previous "dear" and current "fiancé" were clear messages for Prince Samuel, but his high state only made him snap. He was the most important person in the room, and the audience had to know it.

"Dishonored?" Prince Samuel snorted. "The entire Global Army saw you publicly admit how much of a whor-."

Prince Samuel couldn't finish his line since a gale blew through the room, almost destabilizing everyone's stance. Multiple eyes instinctively went on Khan, but his figure was hard to see. The air around him was waving as if encircling a scorching item.

"Yo, guard," Khan coldly called, eyeing the curly-haired man. "I thought your job was protecting Prince Samuel."

Khan didn't even try to hide it. His whole being radiated killing intent, which was already a crime since it targeted a Prince. Yet, the guard didn't blame him. Actually, he looked apologetic.

"Start doing it," Khan ordered, uncaring of what his words implied.

Prince Samuel felt insulted beyond reason, but Monica didn't give him the time to reply. She scoffed, letting go of his hand to return to Khan's side.

The Prince wanted to follow Monica, but his body froze. The air around him had turned into invisible blades ready to sever his very bones. Sweat began accumulating on his forehead, and the hand that landed on his shoulder almost made him cry in fear.

"Prince Samuel," The curly-haired man called, holding the Prince's shoulder. "That's enough."

The scene told Khan that the curly-haired man was more than a simple guard. He looked used to that role as a caretaker. That probably wasn't the first time the Prince was high in a political environment.

"Let go of me," Prince Samuel cried, pushing the hand on his shoulder away before glaring at Khan. "Who do you think you are to give orders in-?!"

"Shut up," Khan uttered, and Prince Samuel's mouth closed. His throat also went dry, preventing further complaints.

An ordinary man would have been too scared to continue, but Prince Samuel's mind was under the influence of substances that made him ignore reason. When Monica returned to Khan's side and shot a pitiful look at him, he snapped again, finding new strength for his words.

"No wonder you chose that woman," Prince Samuel shouted. "She must remind you of your whore moth-."

Prince Samuel couldn't finish his line again, but surprise unfolded at that time. The curly-haired man had delivered a precise blow to his nape to make him faint.

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