— Noctis Lucis Caelum — Royal Party.

The grand hall of Insomnia shimmered with golden light, crystal chandeliers casting rainbows across the polished marble floors. Servants moved gracefully, trays of hors d’oeuvres balanced expertly, while nobles and citizens mingled, laughing and bowing with practiced smiles. At the center of it all stood King Regis, beaming with pride as he welcomed his people to the grand royal gathering.

Noctis leaned against a marble pillar near the edge of the ballroom, arms crossed, dark hair slightly falling over his eyes. He had promised himself he’d stay for a short while—but the endless chatter, the forced smiles, and the stiff bowing of nobles grated on him.

“Your Highness!” a servant called, gesturing politely, “the refreshments are—”

Noctis barely acknowledged them, his gaze scanning the crowd. That’s when it happened: a boisterous guest, distracted by a conversation, bumped directly into him. Noctis stumbled slightly, irritation flickering across his face.

“Watch where you’re going,” he muttered, his voice low, sharp enough to cut through the polite chatter around them. The guest, flustered, tried to apologize, but Noctis waved a hand dismissively, his expression cold.

He stepped away, weaving through clusters of gossiping nobles, muttering under his breath, “Honestly… why does Father even make me do this?”

As he slipped into a quieter corner near the balcony, he let out a sigh, watching the city lights flicker in the distance. He felt like a caged bird in all this grandeur, a prince forced into perfection, when all he wanted was a little chaos.

A mischievous smirk tugged at his lips. Maybe he’d find a way to shake things up tonight—just a little. After all, being royal didn’t mean he had to play the perfect part all the time.

He can be sometimes shy