The Royal Husband (taynew fanfic)

Conflict (1)

Inside the grand halls of King Sebastian's castle, a feast fit for royalty awaited the newlyweds and their guests. The air was alive with the sound of laughter and conversation as relatives and dignitaries mingled, their voices echoing off the ornate walls adorned with tapestries and chandeliers.

As the anticipation reached its peak, King Sebastian himself appeared in the grand ballroom, his presence commanding the attention of all who stood witness. With a gracious nod, he welcomed Tay and New into the fold, his words a balm to soothe the nerves of the newlyweds.

"Welcome, Tay and New," King Sebastian proclaimed, his voice resonant with warmth and sincerity. "May your union be blessed with love and prosperity for all the days to come."

Following in the wake of their king, Tay and New emerged into the ballroom, their steps measured and purposeful as they greeted their guests with smiles and nods of gratitude. Servants circulated among the crowd, offering trays of wine glasses to the assembled guests, a silent invitation to partake in the festivities.

With a raised glass, King Sebastian initiated a toast to the newlyweds, his words a testament to the joyous occasion. "To the couple," he declared, his voice filled with pride and affection.

"To the couple," echoed the guests in unison, their voices blending into a chorus of well-wishes and blessings.

As the feast continued, the revelry reached its peak, with several toasts made in honor of the newlyweds, particularly New, whose presence was celebrated with fervent enthusiasm. Yet amidst the jubilation, New found himself growing increasingly intoxicated by the heady atmosphere, his senses dulled by the abundance of wine and merriment.

Halfway through the festivities, New excused himself from the table, his steps unsteady as he made his way towards the nearest bathroom to freshen up. And as he disappeared from sight, a sense of unease settled over Tay.

In the bathroom, New splashed cold water on his face, the cool droplets providing a brief respite from the heat of the festivities. As he straightened his attire in the mirror, adjusting his collar with a steady hand, the sound of a commotion outside caught his attention.

Turning his head, New strained to listen, his senses sharpened by the urgency of the situation. His heart quickened as he recognized the voices of his sister, Fah, and his cousin, Luke, raised in heated argument.

"Let go of my hand, Luke," came Fah's voice, tinged with desperation and fear.

But Luke's response was mocking and dismissive. "Come on, we could have some fun," he urged, his tone dripping with malice.

Fah's resolve hardened as she issued a warning, her voice trembling with anger. "Luke, this is my last warning. Let go, or I will call the guards."

Luke's grip tightened on Fah's hand, his expression twisted with defiance. "You dare to threaten me?" he sneered, his eyes blazing with fury.

Fah's pleas grew more urgent as she cried out in pain. "Let go! It hurts!"

Without hesitation, New burst out of the bathroom, his steps quick and purposeful as he approached the source of the commotion. With a firm grip, he pulled Luke's hand off his sister's, his voice filled with righteous anger.

"Luke! Let go of my sister's hand!" New's voice rang out, commanding attention and authority.

Luke's smirk widened as he turned his attention to New, his gaze filled with malicious intent.

New's gaze hardened as he observed the bruises on his sister's hand, a testament to the force of Luke's grip. Anger simmered beneath the surface as he turned his glare upon his cousin, his fists clenched at his sides.