The rhythmic creak of the bed frame echoed through the dimly lit chambers of King Noctis’s quarters, punctuated by soft, breathy moans that seemed to hang in the air like a forbidden melody. Noctis’s fingers tangled in the dark locks of the woman beneath him, her bare back arching as she gasped his name. The room smelled of sweat and fading perfume, the curtains drawn tight to keep the world at bay. A sharp knock at the door shattered the moment. “Your Majesty,” came Ignis’s calm but insistent voice, cutting through the haze of desire like a blade. Noctis groaned, pulling away from the woman with a frustrated sigh. “What now?” he snapped, his voice rough with irritation. “A matter of urgency regarding the upcoming ball,” Ignis replied, his tone unwavering. The woman beneath Noctis shifted, her lips curling into a pout. “Can’t it wait?” she murmured, her fingers trailing down his chest. Noctis caught her wrist, his expression softening for a moment before he shook his head. “Duty calls,” he muttered, pressing a quick kiss to her lips before sliding off the bed. He grabbed a robe from the nearby chair, tying it loosely around his waist as he stalked toward the door. The woman sighed, sitting up and reaching for her discarded dress. Noctis opened the door just enough to glare at Ignis, who stood there with his usual composed demeanor, a stack of papers in hand. “This better be important,” Noctis grumbled, running a hand through his disheveled hair. Ignis’s sharp gaze flickered past him to the woman hastily dressing in the background, his lips pressing into a thin line of disapproval. “It is,” he said simply. Noctis rolled his eyes and turned back to the woman. “You know the drill,” he said, his tone dismissive. She nodded, smoothing down her dress as she made her way to the door. Ignis stepped aside, gesturing for the guards to escort her out. Once the door clicked shut, Noctis dropped into a chair, his robe slipping slightly to reveal a sliver of his toned chest. “Alright, Iggy,” he said, leaning back with a sigh. “What’s so damn important that it couldn’t wait? You interrupted a perfectly good evening.” Ignis handed him the stack of papers, his expression unamused. “The guest list for the ball needs your final approval,” he said, his voice crisp. “There are several dignitaries and noble families you’ve yet to confirm.” Noctis groaned, flipping through the pages with little interest. “Do I have to invite everyone? Can’t we just have a small, private affair?” “Proper diplomacy requires a certain... breadth of invitations,” Ignis replied, adjusting his glasses. “Especially when it comes to neighboring kingdoms.” Noctis stopped on one of the pages, his brow furrowing. “The Kingdom of Alexandria? Seriously?” He looked up at Ignis with a frown. “Queen Brihne is a nightmare. She’s got the personality of a cactus and the face to match.” Ignis sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Queen Brihne is no longer the ruler of Alexandria, Your Majesty. Her daughter, Queen Garnet, has taken the throne.” Noctis waved a hand dismissively. “Like mother, like daughter. I’m sure she’s just as unpleasant.” “Your Majesty,” Ignis said, his voice sharp enough to make Noctis pause. “Failing to invite them would be a significant diplomatic misstep. It would reflect poorly on the Crown.” Noctis leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Fine,” he muttered. “But I’m not dancing with her. No way in hell.” From the corner of the room, Gladiolus let out a deep chuckle, his arms crossed over his broad chest. “Careful, Noct,” he said, a smirk tugging at his lips. “She might sweep you off your feet.” Prompto, perched on the edge of a nearby table, snorted with laughter. “Yeah, right,” he said, grinning. “Noct’s too picky for that. He’d probably trip over his own two feet trying to avoid her.” Noctis shot them both a glare. “Not helping.” Ignis ignored the banter, his focus unwavering. “There’s also the matter of Princess Azula of the Fire Nation,” he said, flipping to another page. Noctis groaned again, slumping further into his chair. “What about her?” “She’s single,” Ignis said simply. “And?” Noctis raised an eyebrow. “She’s not exactly my type. Besides, isn’t that Hokage’s kid always hanging around her? What’s his name—Kawaki?” “Kawaki is not a factor in this,” Ignis replied, his tone clipped. “Princess Azula is a valuable political ally, and ignoring her would be unwise.” Noctis threw up his hands in exasperation. “I’ve rejected, what, 30 women so far? Queens, princesses, noblewomen—none of them are worth the hassle.” Prompto snickered, leaning forward with a mischievous grin. “Dang, Noct. Maybe you’re not into women at all. You want a king instead?” Noctis shot him a withering look. “Hell no.” The room erupted into laughter, even Ignis cracking the faintest of smiles before regaining his composure. “Your Majesty, if you could focus,” he said, his tone firm. “We need to finalize this list.” Noctis sighed, rubbing his temples. “Fine,” he muttered. “Who else is on this torture list?” Ignis opened his mouth to respond, but before he could speak, there was another knock at the door. Noctis groaned loudly, tossing the papers onto the table. “What now?” he called, his voice laced with frustration. The door creaked open, and a guard stepped in, bowing slightly. “Your Majesty, there’s a visitor at the gates. They’re requesting an audience with you.” Noctis raised an eyebrow, glancing at Ignis. “At this hour?” Ignis adjusted his glasses, his expression thoughtful. “Did they give a name?” The guard hesitated, then nodded. “They said they were from the Kingdom of Alexandria.” Noctis froze, his eyes widening. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” “It would seem someone decided to take matters into their own hands,” Ignis said, his tone dry. Noctis leaned forward, his fingers drumming against the armrest of his chair. “If it’s Queen Garnet, I’m throwing her out myself.” Gladiolus chuckled, crossing his arms. “Better be careful, Noct. She might surprise you.” Prompto grinned, hopping off the table. “Or she might just kick your ass.” Noctis shot them both a glare before standing, his robe slipping slightly as he did. “Let’s get this over with,” he muttered, striding toward the door. As he stepped into the hallway, Ignis followed close behind, the guest list still in hand. Noctis could feel the tension building in his chest, his mind racing with possibilities. “Your Majesty,” Ignis said quietly as they walked, “it might be wise to approach this with an open mind.” Noctis scoffed, shaking his head. “You’re asking for a lot, Iggy.” They reached the grand hall, the guards flanking the entrance as they stepped inside. Noctis’s eyes scanned the room, searching for the visitor. And then he saw her. Standing in the center of the hall, her posture regal and her expression calm, was a woman who could only be Queen Garnet. Her dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, and her eyes held a quiet intensity that made Noctis pause mid-step. She turned to face him, her lips curling into a small, knowing smile. “King Noctis,” she said, her voice smooth and melodic. “I’ve heard so much about you.” Noctis swallowed, his earlier frustration giving way to something he couldn’t quite place. “And I’ve heard... a lot about you,” he replied, his voice unintentionally softer than he’d intended. Her smile widened, and for a moment, Noctis forgot to breathe. “Perhaps,” she said, taking a step closer, “we should get to know each other properly.” Noctis exchanged a quick glance with Ignis, who raised an eyebrow in silent acknowledgment. “Perhaps we should,” Noctis said, his voice steady despite the sudden racing of his heart. Queen Garnet stepped closer, her gaze piercing through him. The air between them crackled with unspoken tension, and for the first time in a long time, Noctis found himself at a loss for words. “Shall we?” she asked, extending her hand. Noctis hesitated, then reached out, his fingers brushing against hers…

The rhythmic creak of the bed frame echoed through the dimly lit chambers of King Noctis’s quarters, punctuated by soft, breathy moans that seemed to hang in the air like a forbidden melody. Noctis’s fingers tangled in the dark locks of the woman beneath him, her bare back arching as she gasped his name. The room smelled of sweat and fading perfume, the curtains drawn tight to keep the world at bay. 

A sharp knock at the door shattered the moment. 

“Your Majesty,” came Ignis’s calm but insistent voice, cutting through the haze of desire like a blade. 

Noctis groaned, pulling away from the woman with a frustrated sigh. “What *now*?” he snapped, his voice rough with irritation. 

“A matter of urgency regarding the upcoming ball,” Ignis replied, his tone unwavering. 

The woman beneath Noctis shifted, her lips curling into a pout. “Can’t it wait?” she murmured, her fingers trailing down his chest. 

Noctis caught her wrist, his expression softening for a moment before he shook his head. “Duty calls,” he muttered, pressing a quick kiss to her lips before sliding off the bed. He grabbed a robe from the nearby chair, tying it loosely around his waist as he stalked toward the door. 

The woman sighed, sitting up and reaching for her discarded dress. Noctis opened the door just enough to glare at Ignis, who stood there with his usual composed demeanor, a stack of papers in hand. 

“This better be important,” Noctis grumbled, running a hand through his disheveled hair. 

Ignis’s sharp gaze flickered past him to the woman hastily dressing in the background, his lips pressing into a thin line of disapproval. “It is,” he said simply. 

Noctis rolled his eyes and turned back to the woman. “You know the drill,” he said, his tone dismissive. She nodded, smoothing down her dress as she made her way to the door. Ignis stepped aside, gesturing for the guards to escort her out. 

Once the door clicked shut, Noctis dropped into a chair, his robe slipping slightly to reveal a sliver of his toned chest. “Alright, Iggy,” he said, leaning back with a sigh. “What’s so damn important that it couldn’t wait? You interrupted a perfectly good evening.” 

Ignis handed him the stack of papers, his expression unamused. “The guest list for the ball needs your final approval,” he said, his voice crisp. “There are several dignitaries and noble families you’ve yet to confirm.” 

Noctis groaned, flipping through the pages with little interest. “Do I *have* to invite everyone? Can’t we just have a small, private affair?” 

“Proper diplomacy requires a certain... *breadth* of invitations,” Ignis replied, adjusting his glasses. “Especially when it comes to neighboring kingdoms.” 

Noctis stopped on one of the pages, his brow furrowing. “The Kingdom of Alexandria? Seriously?” He looked up at Ignis with a frown. “Queen Brihne is a nightmare. She’s got the personality of a cactus and the face to match.” 

Ignis sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Queen Brihne is no longer the ruler of Alexandria, Your Majesty. Her daughter, Queen Garnet, has taken the throne.” 

Noctis waved a hand dismissively. “Like mother, like daughter. I’m sure she’s just as unpleasant.” 

“Your Majesty,” Ignis said, his voice sharp enough to make Noctis pause. “Failing to invite them would be a significant diplomatic misstep. It would reflect poorly on the Crown.” 

Noctis leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Fine,” he muttered. “But I’m *not* dancing with her. No way in hell.” 

From the corner of the room, Gladiolus let out a deep chuckle, his arms crossed over his broad chest. “Careful, Noct,” he said, a smirk tugging at his lips. “She might sweep you off your feet.” 

Prompto, perched on the edge of a nearby table, snorted with laughter. “Yeah, right,” he said, grinning. “Noct’s too picky for that. He’d probably trip over his own two feet trying to avoid her.” 

Noctis shot them both a glare. “Not helping.” 

Ignis ignored the banter, his focus unwavering. “There’s also the matter of Princess Azula of the Fire Nation,” he said, flipping to another page. 

Noctis groaned again, slumping further into his chair. “What about her?” 

“She’s single,” Ignis said simply. 

“And?” Noctis raised an eyebrow. “She’s not exactly my type. Besides, isn’t that Hokage’s kid always hanging around her? What’s his name—Kawaki?” 

“Kawaki is not a factor in this,” Ignis replied, his tone clipped. “Princess Azula is a valuable political ally, and ignoring her would be unwise.” 

Noctis threw up his hands in exasperation. “I’ve rejected, what, 30 women so far? Queens, princesses, noblewomen—none of them are worth the hassle.” 

Prompto snickered, leaning forward with a mischievous grin. “Dang, Noct. Maybe you’re not into women at all. You want a king instead?” 

Noctis shot him a withering look. “*Hell* no.” 

The room erupted into laughter, even Ignis cracking the faintest of smiles before regaining his composure. “Your Majesty, if you could focus,” he said, his tone firm. “We need to finalize this list.” 

Noctis sighed, rubbing his temples. “Fine,” he muttered. “Who else is on this torture list?” 

Ignis opened his mouth to respond, but before he could speak, there was another knock at the door. Noctis groaned loudly, tossing the papers onto the table. “What now?” he called, his voice laced with frustration. 

The door creaked open, and a guard stepped in, bowing slightly. “Your Majesty, there’s a visitor at the gates. They’re requesting an audience with you.” 

Noctis raised an eyebrow, glancing at Ignis. “At this hour?” 

Ignis adjusted his glasses, his expression thoughtful. “Did they give a name?” 

The guard hesitated, then nodded. “They said they were from the Kingdom of Alexandria.” 

Noctis froze, his eyes widening. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” 

“It would seem someone decided to take matters into their own hands,” Ignis said, his tone dry. 

Noctis leaned forward, his fingers drumming against the armrest of his chair. “If it’s Queen Garnet, I’m throwing her out myself.” 

Gladiolus chuckled, crossing his arms. “Better be careful, Noct. She might surprise you.” 

Prompto grinned, hopping off the table. “Or she might just kick your ass.” 

Noctis shot them both a glare before standing, his robe slipping slightly as he did. “Let’s get this over with,” he muttered, striding toward the door. 

As he stepped into the hallway, Ignis followed close behind, the guest list still in hand. Noctis could feel the tension building in his chest, his mind racing with possibilities. 

“Your Majesty,” Ignis said quietly as they walked, “it might be wise to approach this with an open mind.” 

Noctis scoffed, shaking his head. “You’re asking for a lot, Iggy.” 

They reached the grand hall, the guards flanking the entrance as they stepped inside. Noctis’s eyes scanned the room, searching for the visitor. 

And then he saw her. 

Standing in the center of the hall, her posture regal and her expression calm, was a woman who could only be Queen Garnet. Her dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, and her eyes held a quiet intensity that made Noctis pause mid-step. 

She turned to face him, her lips curling into a small, knowing smile. “King Noctis,” she said, her voice smooth and melodic. “I’ve heard so much about you.” 

Noctis swallowed, his earlier frustration giving way to something he couldn’t quite place. 

“And I’ve heard... a lot about you,” he replied, his voice unintentionally softer than he’d intended. 

Her smile widened, and for a moment, Noctis forgot to breathe. 

“Perhaps,” she said, taking a step closer, “we should get to know each other properly.” 

Noctis exchanged a quick glance with Ignis, who raised an eyebrow in silent acknowledgment. 

“Perhaps we should,” Noctis said, his voice steady despite the sudden racing of his heart. 

Queen Garnet stepped closer, her gaze piercing through him. The air between them crackled with unspoken tension, and for the first time in a long time, Noctis found himself at a loss for words. 

“Shall we?” she asked, extending her hand. 

Noctis hesitated, then reached out, his fingers brushing against hers…

King Noctis is caught in the act by his advisor, Ignis, who interrupts his tryst to discuss the guest list for an upcoming ball.

The king's reluctance to invite the Kingdom of Alexandria due to his negative perception of Queen Brihne and her daughter, Queen Garnet, leads to a heated discussion.

Noctis’s dismissive attitude toward potential political alliances, including Princess Azula of the Fire Nation, creates a tense atmosphere.

The arrival of a mysterious visitor from Alexandria adds an unexpected twist, challenging Noctis’s preconceived notions and forcing him to confront his own biases.

King's Reluctant Invitations

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