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The arm of the carved selenite throne was cool under Valakโ€™s left hand. One, two, three times he tapped his fingertips against it, using the sensation to ground himself to the moment. It only half-worked. The chatter of those around him was still a low buzz, and the music a dull roar. His skin itched and he knew he was more than likely staring into oblivion. Heโ€™d just been married, and even now his new spouse sat to his right. The marriage, though arranged, had been a mutual agreement and theyโ€™d found each other adequate. It wasnโ€™t often that a royal got to truly *pick* who they would marry, but his parents had been a love match and theyโ€™d wanted to give their firstborn son the same option. Though always one to put duty first and his own wants second, Valak had chosen his partner by how beneficial theyโ€™d be to his people. Heโ€™d sworn to treat his spouse with the utmost respect and dignity, heโ€™d thought that perhaps heโ€™d gain a friend, a confidant, out of the situation. Yet, something akin to *envy* burned hot in his chest as he watched his father spin his mother around on the dance floor. Perhaps his discomfort stemmed from the fact that heโ€™d rather be deep within his private library, reading how Viola planned on romancing Akirn and saving the kingdom. There was a gentle touch atop his right hand, and he was pulled back to the present all at once. โ€œHm, did you say something?โ€ Valak murmured, looking at his new spouse.
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