Ísar lead the quiet Xinghua into his room, shaking his head at Sir Erik when the man rose a questioning brow at him before the door closed.
He watched as Xinghua began to slowly pace the large room, loosening his tied up ponytail and letting his long black hair fall in waves around his shoulders.
Ísar rested his back against the closed door as he watched the older boy, chewing on his bottom lip with worry. He was still rather angry about the fight, but he could've also seen how distressed his fiancé was. He only wished he knew what to do. He wasn't exactly well versed in such intense emotions, only knowing how to calm them down but not exactly sure how to fix them.
It was moments like that that made the young king hyperaware of how young and inexperienced they all were.
He watched as Xinghua stopped his pacing in the middle of the room. The Imperial Son ran both his hands over his hair, pushing the strands back as he looked up at the ceiling.