Ireneth groaned softly as he woke up, struggling to open his eyes. They were heavier than damn boulders. He'd hosted another party, secretly of course, in one of the lower and less utilized ballrooms in the palace, on the opposite end of his parents' quarters. Not that he would've stopped the party even if his father had come barging in. He'd been having too much fun. Plus, everyone else seemed to be enjoying themselves as well.

But... perhaps the crown prince had drunk a bit too much. He couldn't remember much after his... sixth? Seventh drink? Clearly, he had managed to drag himself to bed. Or maybe the servants had hauled him upstairs and tossed him onto the bed.

Ireneth grumbled as he lifted his head slightly from his pillow, looking out the large window. It was open. Weird. But the moon was still visible, so it was still nighttime. No wonder he felt worse than the dung of a klopta, he'd only been out for maybe an hour or so. And he was still fucking wasted.

His head felt like his brain was pressing against his skull, groaning again as he settled in to sleep again. But then a smell hit his nose, making his eyes snap open again. Mate.

What the fuck?

He lifted his head again, looking up to the opposite corner of his chambers, where a figure was standing, staring at him. Something glinted in their hand. A knife, he realized when their grip on the blade adjusted.

His fucking mate was a goddamn assassin who'd been sent to off him. Just his damn luck.

"You wanna put that down?" he murmurs, voice rougher than normal.