Cheesy

You arrived at your father's study hand in hand with Sylus. The entire way there, you didn't dare let go of him, still nervous that he might be ripped from you at any moment.

“I’m scared to go in,” you whispered. 

He pulled your hand up to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles.  “We’ve made this far,” he murmured. “And they didn’t immediately throw me in the dungeons, did they?” He gave you a confident smile, and you couldn’t help but laugh. He was still so optimistic despite the state he was in. The cut on his lip had finally stopped bleeding, and the bruise on his face was turning a nasty shade of purple, while his eye was already starting to swell. When Doctor Zayne had made him remove his coat and roll up his sleeves for examination, his arms had been blooming with bruises as well. But to your immense relief, the doctor had concluded that bruises were the full extent of his injuries.

You whined softly as you traced the edge of the bruise on his face with your fingertip. “It looks horrific.”

“Worth it, if it means you’ll fuss over me,” Sylus said, brushing his lips over your knuckles again.

“I ought to find Sebastian and…” You trailed off, not even sure what you’d do. You’d give him a piece of your mind again, at least. Your blood boiled every time you looked at Sylus, all beaten up. “Why didn’t you fight back?” You asked, eyebrows scrunched up. “And send him flying, like you did when you first became my knight?”

Sylus huffed a low laugh. “It wouldn’t look so good if the king found me beating his son, would it?” 

“No,” you pouted. “You’re right.”

“Let’s go, sweetie.” He gave your hand one last kiss, then let it go. “No need to waste any more time.”

You nodded, placed your hand on the doorknob and drew one more steadying breath. Then you pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Your father sat at his desk, while your mother leaned on the windowsill, likely too wound up to sit still. On the other side of the desk were three seats. Prince Kaylen was already waiting – it looked like he’d been speaking to your father, but grew quiet when you entered. 

“Where’s Sebastian?” You asked, surprised that he wasn’t there. Caine was busy having his nose re-arranged by Doctor Zayne, but you had expected Sebastian to be there at least.

“I’ll deal with him later.” Your father said with a dismissive tone, then motioned at the chairs. “Sit. I take it that you’re well, from the lack of bandages.” He gave Sylus a long, assessing look.

Sylus lowered himself into a deep bow. “Yes, Your Majesty. Thank you for your concern.” He settled himself carefully in the middle seat, and you sat on his other side, dragging your chair as close to him as the armrest would allow. 

“He’s sturdy as an ox.” Kaylen clapped Sylus’s shoulder firmly. “You need not worry about him.”

“Hm.” Your father didn’t sound amused. “So. Explain yourself. Was this–” he gestured vaguely around the room, “ – your goal?”

“No, Your Majesty,” Sylus answered politely. “I… I didn’t plan any of this.” 

Your father’s eyebrows rose, but he kept quiet, letting Sylus speak.

“As I said, all I wanted was to see the princess again. I wanted to come here, and prove myself to you, earn your favour, and beg for marriage again.” He looked down at his hands, and your heart clenched at the sight of him looking so subdued. “But then I learned that her guard had retired, and I knew it was my chance to see her.” He shot a glance at you, a sad smile on his lips. “I didn’t think she would choose me. But she did, and suddenly I was in too deep. Every day that I didn’t reveal my identity, the harder it became to do it.”

“So you decided to start an illicit relationship with my daughter instead?” The king crossed his arms. He didn’t seem moved by Sylus’s words.

“No, Father!” You cut in before Sylus could answer. “I pursued him! If you’re going to blame someone, blame me.”

Your mother shifted by the window and rubbed her temples with a deep frown. You hated seeing her like this, but you couldn’t regret what you’d done.

“Even so, my dear.” Your father’s voice was softer now, but still firm. “Prince or not, he took vows. He should know better.”

“Your Majesty, if you’ll let me.” Prince Kaylen leaned forward slightly. “They’re only young, and they’re in love. You know what young ones are like. They think with their hearts, not with their heads.”

You bit your lip, desperately trying to hold your tongue. You did not like being talked to like children, but you knew an outburst would only prove him right. So you stayed silent, even though your nails dug into your palms in your lap.

“And you want me to believe that you had no part in this scheme?” Your father asked with a scowl. “That Aylus isn’t laughing his arse off at me?”

Kaylen shook his head. “I assure you, I had no part in this harebrained idea.” Your father didn’t look so convinced. “But,” Kaylen sighed. “Father did laugh when word arrived that he’d joined your Kingsguard.”

“‘Course he did.” Your mother scoffed from the window.

“I swear that no one else in my family was involved.” Sylus’s voice was firm. “I acted alone.”

The king leaned back in his chair. “You’re just like your father,” he said, pointing a finger at Sylus. “Reckless, unstoppable. Acting without regard for consequences or higher authority.” 

Both brothers stayed quiet. You could feel the weight of the accusation hanging in the air, and you worried about what would come next.

“You do realise what an insult this is.” Your father continued. He sounded disappointed rather than angry, his voice low and controlled. You felt as if you were being scolded by your tutor. “You may not have meant to undermine us, but you did. You want to stroll into a smaller kingdom’s royal palace, trample over our rules, laws, and all decency. And expect us to lay down and take it, because you’re the mighty dragons?” Your father spat the word like an insult.

“No, Your Majesty.” Sylus placed his hand over his heart. “I swore to accept any punishment, and I will keep my word. Hang me if you wish, I won’t fight you.” 

“N-no.” Your hands shot out to grab his. “Sebastian punished him enough.” No more.

Your mother pushed away from the window and approached your father. She placed her hand on his shoulder, drawing his attention. Something unspoken passed between them.

“He wishes to earn our favour, doesn’t he?” She said quietly. “Make him earn it, then.” 

“You’re certain?” Your father asked, and your mother nodded. 

Your father turned to the silver-haired brothers with a sigh. “Secure our border, then. If you want this engagement so badly, solve this dispute once and for all.”

Your eyes widened. You wanted to protest, but the air was heavy with tension.

“Are you certain that these disturbances are King Edward’s doing?” Kaylen broke the silence.

“Who else would it be?” Your father’s voice rose with frustration. “My sons fought him off not even a year ago. They crushed his meagre army, and we signed a peace treaty! Now I hear stories of merchants disappearing, towns being attacked and robbed by bandits.” He became more incensed with each word. “He’s behind it, I know it.”

“What is his goal?” Kaylen asked. “Other than to weaken you.”

Your father opened his desk drawer and rolled out a map, propping the ends with an ornament and an ink well. “This.” He pointed at a region to the south-west of your kingdom. “This whole strip of land here.”

Both men leaned over and followed your father’s finger. You already knew what he was about to say. “It’s beautiful and fertile, unlike the rockery south of the border. My subjects grow smoke leaf, and the grapes that make Dragon’s Blood wine.” Your father pointed at the brothers. “Your father named it that, you know. Said it was as thick as his blood.”

A knowing look dawned on Sylus and Kaylen’s faces. “I’m aware of how much gold he spends on that,” Kaylen admitted.

“Now, historically, this land has drifted from one kingdom to another. Over a hundred years ago, this border was agreed upon. Now Edward claims it’s a sham and the entire region rightfully belongs to him.”

“So, he sends bandits to harass your towns and disrupt your trade.” Sylus propped his chin on his hand. “Knowing that if you retaliate, you’ll be seen as the aggressor.”

Your father nodded. “We have outposts along the main roads, but we can’t patrol every inch of the border. It’s not just any trade he’s disrupting - these are our roads to Philos!” 

“You will have as many of our men as you wish,” Kaylen relaxed back into his seat nonchalantly, as if he were offering something simple. “Fully trained and equipped. We will advance directly to his palace gates. Turf him out, loot all he has so that he won’t recover for decades. You could take his lands if you wish. That will be our wedding gift.”

“I don’t want his lands.” Your father shook his head. “I want an end to his ambitions. Make an example of him, so that his sons won’t try again.”

“I will lead them.” Sylus cut in, drawing everyone’s attention. “I’ll go south and make certain he never troubles Solen again.”

“No, you can’t!” You gripped his hand harder, your heart lurching. “You’ve already fought for us once. You shouldn’t have to do it again.” 

“That was Skye, the sellsword.” He smiled at you, soft and reassuring. Then he turned to your father. “Let me go, Your Majesty. I will go in my name as Prince Sylus, not some mercenary. I want everyone, not only across the continent but the entire world, to know that Solen is under my protection.”

Under his protection. Not his family, or his king, but his. The words made your chest ache.

“You would do this?” Your father asked, suspicion clear on his face. “Put an end to his schemes?” 

“No,” you whispered. 

“Yes,” Sylus didn’t waver. “Absolutely.”

Your father looked in thought as he held his chin, arm resting on his chair. “You will go with Sebastian and work alongside him. He will be your witness.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Sylus accepted it without question. 

“Please, don’t!” You turned to your father, desperate. “Father, please don’t make him.”

“I must do this.” Sylus smiled at you, patting your hand. “Have faith in me.”

You had faith in him. You had faith in his strength, his skill and his determination. But you had no faith in the people who would receive him in that hostile land.

“Who shall we put on Edward’s throne, then?” Kaylen asked, likely eager to get it over with.

“You don’t have to kill anyone, so long as you stop him. But if it came to that…” Your father paused, considering his answer. “Then his younger son. Or take his kingdom for yourself, I don’t care what you do with it.” He waved a dismissive hand.

Kaylen hummed thoughtfully. “I’ll send word for more men. How many do you need?”

“That will take too long. I don’t need an army.” Sylus raised a hand in protest. “I will take whatever men we have and settle here.” He pointed at a border town on the map, along the main road. “I will capture his invaders, question them, and find proof.” 

Your father nodded along.

“Once I have evidence that Edward is plotting again, I will join Prince Sebastian south as a peace envoy of sorts. You could say that he wants to discuss your border arrangements.”

“He’ll be tempted to take Sebastian hostage,” Kaylen mused. 

“The prince could kick up a fuss and provoke the king, get himself captured. Then I’ll march our men in, break Sebastian out–” Sylus’s voice was cold, his expression hard and calculating in a way that you had never seen before. “ –Along with Edward’s head.”

“Not literally, I hope,” you muttered, nervous.

“His seal will suffice,” your father said.

The room went silent again. You could see from everyone’s expressions that it had been decided. This is really happening. You chewed on the inside of your cheek. You had the sudden urge to grab Sylus and hold him tight as if it would prevent him from going.

“Your Majesties,” Prince Kaylen broke the silence. “I have no qualms sending Sylus to assassinate whoever you wish. But seeing as my little brother will be risking his life, I would like you to announce their engagement right away.”

Your father nodded with understanding. 

“And allow her to travel north with me while Sylus is on his mission,” he added. “To ensure that we all keep our end of the bargain.”

“No!” You protested immediately. “I want to go with Sylus!”

“Absolutely not.” Your father’s voice was final. “You’re not going with him.”

“But–” you started to argue, but your father raised his hand, cutting you off. “You’ve been very defiant lately. You’re not running off after him.” He sounded unyielding. “You’re staying here.”

“Yes, Father,” you answered begrudgingly. We shall see, you thought, with a clenched jaw.

Your father drew his attention back to Kaylen. “My daughter will remain here until Sylus returns. But,” he sighed. “I will publicly announce their engagement today. Does that sound fair?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. Thank you.” Kaylen conceded with a polite smile.

That very same day, your father called for everyone of importance at the palace to his throne room. 

Just as with Sebastian’s engagement, you stood on one side of the double thrones, heart fluttering with a nervous, giddy excitement. On the other side stood the two princes of Onychinus, while your brothers attended nearby. Caine smiled at you from across the podium, despite the state he arrived in. He had two splints on each side of his nose, secured with a narrow bandage, and a painful bruise already spreading on his face. Sebastian stood rigid beside him, glaring daggers at Sylus. But he knew better than to cause another scene. 

This is actually happening, you thought. They’re really letting us do this.

Once everyone had gathered, your father rose from his throne, clasping his hands dramatically.

“I have called you all here to share some wonderful news!” Your father addressed the crowd, his voice filling the hall. “As you all know, we have enjoyed a long and prosperous friendship with the kingdom of Onychinus. Now we have the opportunity to further this friendship and become family.”

You fidgeted with your hands, waiting for your father to say the words.

“I would like to announce the engagement of my dear daughter,” your father paused, and you stepped forward. “To Prince Sylus, second prince of Onychinus!”

Sylus stepped forward and stood next to you. That was when the crowd finally took note of him. At first, they were silent in confusion, then you heard a few mumbles and whispers of “Sir Skye?”

“You may have met him before, or known him under a different name,” the king continued smoothly. “But as fate would have it, the two met, fell in love, and approached me, with tears in their eyes, begging for our blessing.” 

A few oohs and awws rippled through the crowd. 

“You should have seen it.” Your father’s voice softened, turning theatrical. “Their heartfelt confession brought a tear to this old man’s eye. Isn’t that right, dear?” 

He turned to your mother, who wiped an imaginary tear from her cheek. “Such pure, young love,” she sighed. “We simply couldn’t deny them.”

“So, please,” your father called out, beaming at the crowd. “Celebrate their joyous union with us, and spread the word!” 

Swept up by your parents’ performance, the gathered crowd erupted in cheers and applause.

You took in the sight before you, stunned, as Sylus took your hand, squeezing it gently.

“Didn’t Prince Sebastian beat him?” You heard a voice, but it was drowned out by the commotion.

Your cousin appeared from within the gathered crowd and ran up the steps. She embraced both of you at once, pulling Sylus down to her height. “Finally!” She shouted, her voice bright with happiness. 

From the corner of your eye, you saw a guard propping up an older maid, who seemed to have fainted. A younger maid fanned her face with a feather duster.

“What happened to her?” You asked, genuinely concerned. Sylus glanced over at the scene. “Ah, that’s Mary.” A mischievous smile tugged at his lips. “She whacked me with her mop once, for dragging mud into the palace.”

Poor Mary, you thought, but you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you.

Later that night, you twisted and turned in your bed, overwhelmed by conflicting emotions. It seemed like, in one short day, everything had completely changed. You had gotten what you wanted - your parents had finally, fully and unreservedly agreed to your engagement to Sylus. Everything was out in the open, and apart from Sebastian’s outburst, things had gone better than expected. Sylus wasn’t chased out. He wasn’t arrested. He wasn’t thrown into a dungeon after all. 

You had your engagement announcement, and nobody had laughed at you, no one had booed Sylus as you’d feared.

But you couldn’t help but be overcome with guilt. Why would he have to get involved in your family’s problems? That region had nothing to do with him. In fact, it was on the opposite side of your kingdom. He had already been there once, and you still firmly believed that he shouldn’t have to go again. He would gain nothing from resolving it for you. The only thing he would gain is you. 

With pain in your heart, you wondered if this engagement was even worth the risk to his life. Could any amount of love justify sending him into danger? What if he failed? If he got caught trying to kill a king, he would be imprisoned, tortured, or even killed. The thought made you shudder.

A man of his position could have any princess he wanted, you thought. He didn’t need to cross kingdoms, fight in battles and risk his life for a princess from a small kingdom, known for little more than its wine and fertile fields.

You threw your blanket off and hopped out of bed. You wrapped a robe around yourself, shoved your feet into your slippers, and peeked out of your doors. You slipped out and made your way through the silent, moonlit hallways to the wing where the Qin princes were staying. Once you reached what you hoped was Sylus’s new bedroom, you knocked softly on the door, silently praying you hadn’t arrived at his brother’s room instead. 

The door opened. 

Sylus stood before you, only wearing his trousers and a loose, untucked white shirt. His hair was slightly damp, and you assumed he was freshly out of the bath. His eyes widened in surprise, and he smiled, stepping aside to let you enter. 

“My, my.” His voice was low and teasing as he closed the door. “How the tables have turned. The princess knocking on my—“ 

You launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him and holding him close. He let out a soft breath and held you back, his arms coming around you like a shield.

“You can’t go,” you muttered into his shirt. “You’re not allowed.”

He placed his hand on your head, smoothing your hair. “I don’t want to be apart from you, too. But I have to do this.”

“No, you don’t.” You gripped him tighter, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “I’m not worth this trouble. There are so many ladies… so many princesses who would give anything to be with you.”

He pulled back to look at you properly. “Not worth?” His eyebrows rose in disbelief. “Did you think I’d spend years on something that’s not worth it?”

“I know how dedicated you are.” Your voice cracked. “But you already joined my brothers in battle once and survived. I’m terrified that you won’t be lucky a second time.” A tear slipped down your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away with your palm. “I don’t want you to go.”

“Look at me.” He spoke softly and lifted your chin, tilting his head to meet your gaze. “I don’t rely on luck. If anything, my luck is terrible.” 

You whined and tried to pull away, but he held fast. “Wait, come back.” He laughed softly. “Come back.” 

You pouted at him, still blinking back tears.

“I make my own fortune. I don’t need luck, you know that. So, please…” His thumb brushed across your cheek, wiping away the moisture. “Don’t say such things.”

You hummed, looking away, a little mad at how stubborn and brave he was.

“Didn’t you hear my brother?” He asked, as he walked backwards, pulling you with him. “I’m sturdy as an ox.”

“Still…” you muttered. 

He sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling you across his lap. He leaned in to kiss you, but you turned away, his lips landing on your cheek instead. He sighed against your skin. 

“I’ll make it quick,” he murmured. “You won’t even notice that I’m gone.”

You still couldn’t look at him. You knew you’d give in if you did. 

His arms tightened around you. “I will return.” His earnest voice made you waver. “I won’t let some crusty old king stop me. Not one. Not one hundred.”

You squirmed a little in his arms, glancing sideways at him. “Swear to me.”

“I swear.” His response came immediately. 

You turned to face him and watched him for a moment, then placed a quick kiss on his lips. “Seal it with a kiss,” you whispered.

The smile returned to his face. He pulled you down for another kiss, longer this time, deeper, as if he were trying to pour his promises into you. 

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours. “Can I confess something?” 

You nodded, still breathless. 

“I couldn’t stop staring at you this morning,” he said, voice warm and intimate. “The way you fought your brother for me.” 

“Ugh.” You scrunched up your face and pushed away from him, embarrassment flooding your cheeks. “Don’t even start.”

He pulled you back in, laughing. “I love it when my princess shows her claws.” His hands roamed slowly down your back, and he leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear. “She doesn’t just purr. She has bite, too.”

“Sylus!” You gasped. “This is what you’ve been thinking about?”

“Thinking is all I’ll have soon.” One of his hands found its way up your thigh, slipping under your robe. “Give me something more to think about.” He left hot kisses down the column of your neck, and you melted into his arms, your fingers threading through his damp hair.

“You sure like to–” A soft moan escaped you as he bit down gently. “ –push your luck… don’t you?” 

He chuckled low into your skin. “Mm. I do.”

His lips found yours again before you could answer, hungry and desperate. When his tongue brushed your lips, you parted them for him eagerly, a soft sound escaping you as you pulled him closer. You held him with equal urgency, losing yourself in the warmth of his embrace and the reassuring weight of his body against yours. For tonight, you allowed yourself to push aside your fears and forget about the journey that awaited him. All you wanted was to feel his hands on you, commit every touch, every breath, every sigh to memory. 

You stood at the bottom of the grand staircase, taking deep, slow breaths in an attempt to ground yourself. Despite the cool morning, your hands were already sweating with nerves. Caine stood beside you, fanning your face with some documents he’d picked up on your way.

“Everything will be alright.” His voice was calm and steady; the voice of a man used to soothing panicked knights. “Slow, deep breaths. You don’t want to faint, do you?”

“Mm-hm.” You whined, trying to shake off your nerves. The sound echoed in the empty hall, and you immediately regretted it. 

The sound of heavy footsteps grabbed your attention, and you lifted your head to find Prince Kaylen approaching, Sylus following close behind. 

You took a moment to take him in. He was out of his Kingsguard armour. Instead, he wore the traditional black and red of Onychinus. His suit mirrored his brother’s - the dark colours, the high collar, the red ascot tucked neatly into his coat. He looked so… princely. And yet, it sat on him differently. He still had the build of a knight underneath the suit. He still seemed so broad and tall, so strong even in formal clothing. His silver hair was tamed back, instead of hanging free over his forehead, revealing the sharp lines of his face. 

He hadn’t noticed you yet. He was fiddling with a button on his coat sleeve, trying to fasten it as he walked, his brow furrowed in concentration.

Then he looked up and your eyes met. His eyes softened.

He stopped beside you, positioning himself between you and his brother. With a sly smile curving his lips, he reached over and gently lifted your mouth shut. “You’re catching flies, Princess.”

Your face immediately went red hot, and you stuttered in embarrassment. “S-Sylus!”

His smile quickly dropped. His eyes went wide with the realisation that you’d called his name in the presence of your brother. His gaze darted to Caine, who stood behind you, regarding Sylus with a warm smile.

“Your Highness…” He began, his posture stiffening. 

“Don’t worry about him now!” You took his face in your hands, making him look down at you. “I’ll explain later.” Behind you, your brother let out a soft aww in mock disappointment, and Kaylen hummed a laugh. You ignored them, as you had another issue at hand. 

“Why are you here?” You asked, your pitch rising higher than intended. “Shouldn’t you be outside? Waiting to make a big entrance?”

“No.” Sylus shook his head. “We said no performances. Once the king and queen arrive, my brother will introduce me, and I will step out. Nice and simple.”

You looked at Kaylen, and he offered you a reassuring smile. “I’ve sent a servant to inform the palace that he has arrived.”

“Right. Alright.” You took a deep breath. “No theatrics. Nice and simple.”

More people began to stream into the hall.

You caught a glimpse of Prince Xavier near the back, arms crossed, watching with obvious curiosity. Your cousin, Madeleine, took her place across from you on the other side of the grand staircase, accompanied by Mister Rafayel. He wore a black, luxurious suit with a white shirt underneath, and a deep purple tie, clasped with a jewel that seemed to match the colour of his wavy hair. You offered him a deep curtsy, and he bowed back, graceful and unhurried. Maddie waved at you, then flipped her fan open, obscuring their faces. She said something to him that made him smile, and his quiet response made her giggle behind her fan. 

A few palace officials lined up along the walls with rigid postures and your nerves began to creep up on you again. As more people arrived, whispering and chattering, you realised this was far more than you had agreed to. You assumed that, despite Lord Aster’s best efforts, once word spread that the missing prince was coming, everyone present at the palace wanted to see him for themselves. You took a few deep breaths, trying to calm your pounding heart. It doesn’t matter, you told yourself. All will be well.

You glanced at Sylus beside you. He seemed a lot more composed than you were – at least on the outside. He looked down at you and discreetly brushed his fingers against yours. You noticed that a strand of silver hair had come loose from his otherwise neat style, falling across his forehead. Without thinking, you reached up to tuck it back in place. Your fingers trembled slightly as you fumbled with the stubborn strand. Sylus stood perfectly still, watching you with a soft look, the kind that he normally only reserved for when you were alone.

Then, a loud curse echoed through the hall. It made you jump, and you looked toward the doors, your hand still frozen in Sylus’s hair.

At the far end of the room, Sebastian had just walked in. He stopped dead in his tracks, his gaze falling on Sylus. His face twisted with rage.

“There he is, the bastard!” Your brother shouted, his voice ricocheting off the stone walls. Before you could react, Sebastian sprinted across the hall as people scrambled out of his way. Within seconds, he lunged at Sylus and shoved him back, away from you, sending him stumbling. He rushed Sylus so quickly, that one moment he was at your side, the next he was backed against a wall with a loud clatter. 

You heard Maddie’s distinct scream from somewhere behind you, and Sebastian was on top of Sylus again. 

“You dare lay your hands on my sister?! Under my family’s roof?” Sebastian roared, swinging at Sylus, who threw his arms up to block him. While everyone stared in stunned silence, Caine ran to Sebastian and grabbed him from behind, pulling him away from Sylus. “Sebastian, stop!” 

“Let me at him!” Sebastian thrashed against his grip, desperately kicking at the air. “The bastard broke his oaths!” 

Sylus straightened and wiped a smear of blood from his split lip with the back of his hand. He did not say anything or retaliate. He just stood there, watching and waiting. 

“What are you waiting for?” Sebastian shouted at the guards as he struggled against Caine. “Seize him!”

“No! Help me!” Caine ordered, his voice strained with effort. The guards seemed to move, then stop, then look at each other, visibly conflicted about which prince to obey. Confusion and panic spread through the gathered crowd.

Your hands shook with panic, and you didn’t know what to do. You had never seen your brother look at someone with such unbridled fury. You grabbed Kaylen’s sleeve beside you, tugging on his arm, pleading desperately. “Do something, please!” 

He raised his hand. “Wait–” he said, but his voice was so low, and with chaos erupting around you, you could barely hear him. He repositioned himself, shielding you with his body, as a few court officials dashed out your brothers’ way.

“I’ll cut off those hands he touched her with!” Sebastian roared again. 

Then he sharply snapped his head back. His skull collided with Caine’s nose with a loud, sickening crack. Caine cried out a curse, his grip loosening as he stumbled back, disoriented. His hands flew to his face, blood gushing between his fingers. 

Once Sebastian had wriggled free, he leapt at Sylus again, fist first. Sylus didn’t dodge this time. He let Sebastian’s fist connect with his cheek, head snapping to one side. When Sebastian drew back for another blow, Sylus blocked him, which only enraged him further. 

People rushed to Caine’s side, trying to stem the bleeding, preventing him from getting to Sebastian. 

You couldn’t bear to watch any longer, and you ran at Sebastian. “Get off him!” You screamed, grabbing at his arm, but he shrugged you off as if you weighed nothing. “He’s a prince! Stop!” You shrieked like a banshee as Sebastian rained blows on Sylus, who continued to block and dodge. Sylus’s fists clenched, and for a moment, you thought he might strike back, but instead, he lowered them again.

Sebastian backed away, with a low growl. He stomped over to one of the guards, then yanked the man’s sword, pulling it roughly from his hip. The moment you saw the blade, your blood ran cold. Gasps rippled through the hall, and people rushed to lead the women and children away. From the corner of your eye, you saw Maddie being pulled toward the doors, her fan dropped and forgotten on the floor. 

Then, as Sebastian stormed toward Sylus again, fear hit you like ice-cold water and you ran without thinking.

“I don’t give a fuck who–ACK!” Sebastian choked as you jumped onto his back, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. He staggered back. Not realising who was clinging to him, he shrugged violently and shoved you roughly off his shoulders. You stumbled back, tripping over the train of your skirts, with a loud rip. Before your backside could hit the floor, a pair of arms caught you, lifting you up.

Caine pushed through the crowd that had been fretting over him and grabbed Sebastian’s right arm, trying to wrestle the sword away. Prince Xavier, who seemed to appear out of thin air, gripped Sebastian’s other arm, twisting it painfully behind his back, making him stumble to one knee.

“What is the meaning of this?” 

The king’s angered voice boomed from the top of the grand staircase. Your gaze shot upward. Your mother and father stood at the top with pale faces, their eyes taking in the scene before them. 

Sebastian, still panting, with a stolen sword in hand, being wrangled by Prince Xavier to one side, and a bloodied Caine on the other. 

Your knight, leaning against a wall, his lip split, a dark bruise already blooming across his cheekbone.

And you, in Prince Kaylen’s arms, carried like a bride, while the rest of your friends and family stood frozen in the middle of a mad rush for the exits. 

“Father.” You gasped, your voice raw from screaming. Your mind went blank.

And then you said the first thing that came to your mind. 

“Prince Sylus is here!” 

The room stirred with movement. A few people turned, looking toward the doors, expecting someone to walk in. You heard confused whispers and a muffled “Where?” Even Sebastian stopped struggling.

Your parents made their way slowly down the stairs, as Prince Kaylen set you carefully back down on your feet. You wanted to rush to Sylus’s side, but you didn’t dare move. 

When your father reached the bottom, he approached you. You could still hear Sebastian’s heaving breaths nearby, gradually becoming steadier. His grip loosened, and Caine pried the sword from him, handing it to a guard nearby.

“What are you all looking at?” Your father called out, scanning the crowd. “Show’s over!”

At the king’s order, everyone in the room scrambled to leave. Prince Xavier tentatively released Sebastian’s arm, and Caine muttered something at him, patting him on the shoulder. The younger prince nodded and slipped into the crowd. 

Within seconds, only your family and the Qin princes remained. The only movement in the room came from a young maid handing a wet cloth to Prince Caine with shaking hands. He pressed it to his face.

Then Sebastian’s voice cut through the room. “That bastard broke his vows!” 

“He’s not a bastard!” You turned sharply to Sebastian, “And he did not!”

“He violated his vows,” Sebastian snapped back. “And my sister!” 

You gasped, your jaw dropping. “How dare you!” 

“How dare I? How dare he?” Sebastian shouted, his voice rising again. 

You stormed towards him as Caine stepped between you, the wet rag on his face already soaked red. “Everyone stop shouting!” His voice came out muffled and nasal. But nobody listened.

“I’ll fucking kill that peasant!”

“Don’t you dare touch him!”

“Settle down.”

“Father, he attacked him!”

“I had good reason.”

“Someone check on Sylus.”

The room quickly descended into a cacophony of overlapping voices, everyone speaking over each other. Kaylen stood to the side, one hand on his hip, the other pinching the bridge of his nose, a frustrated frown etched on his face.

“Silence!” 

The king’s voice cut through the chatter like a blade. You all immediately fell silent again. Your father studied each of you in turn before his attention settled on Sylus. His eyes lingered there, his brow furrowing. You followed the king’s gaze to Sylus, who still wore the black and crimson colours of the Qin. Across his chest, a dragon embroidered in red silk thread caught the light. 

“You.” Your father pointed at Sylus, and beckoned him closer. 

Sylus pushed himself off the wall, one hand pressed to his side where Sebastian had landed a blow. He walked slowly forward and carefully went down on one knee. 

“It’s plain to see why my son has attacked you.” The king spoke, with a measured voice. “And with his shouting, the entire kingdom will soon know.” He shot an angry look at Sebastian, who seemed to shrink behind Caine. 

“What I want to know,” the king continued slowly, “is why a member of my Sun Guard is out of his uniform, and wearing the Qin dragon on his chest.” 

You clasped a hand over your mouth. You dared not even breathe. 

“Your Majesty,” Sylus managed with a cough, bowing his head. “I owe you an apology. My name is Sylus. Son of King Aylus and Queen Vaelia.” 

You braced yourself for another explosion. Instead, no one seemed to know what to say. All you heard in the background was a quiet, dumbfounded “Huh?” from Sebastian. 

Your father regarded Sylus for a moment, then turned to Prince Kaylen. “Is this true?” He motioned toward Sylus. “Is he truly your brother?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Kaylen’s response was smooth. He was the only one in the room who looked completely unscathed.

“You mean to tell me…” your father’s voice was thick with disbelief. “That this man here, who has been living under my roof. Who I’ve fed, clothed, and knighted, is Prince Sylus?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Something unreadable flickered across your father’s face. You couldn’t tell if it was anger or something else entirely.

Your mother took a few steps back and leaned against the staircase handrail, one hand to her chest, as if she’d forgotten how to breathe.

Your father’s attention shifted to you. Terrified of his reaction, you suddenly felt very small, like a child waiting to be scolded. All you could do was gaze up at him with wide, tearful eyes, waiting for his judgement. 

“Your Majesty.” Sylus called to your father, still kneeling. “I did not intend to deceive you. All I wanted was to see her again.” 

Your father watched him, but didn’t speak.

“I will accept any punishment. Whatever you decide to do with me, I swear my family will not contest it.” Sylus looked up at your father, the earnest look in his eyes tugging at your heart, making your eyes sting with fresh tears. “I will do anything you command to earn your trust and your favour.”

The king evaluated him for a long moment, which felt like an eternity. Nauseous with fear, you clenched your hands at your chest.

“Guards,” your father turned. 

Your stomach dropped. 

No, no, no. Not after everything.

The tears that were threatening to spill from your eyes burst down your cheeks. When the familiar clink of armour reached your ears, you ran to Sylus and crouched down beside him, embracing him, shielding him with your body. He placed his hand on your back instinctively, holding you close.

“Call for Doctor Zayne.” You heard your father’s voice behind you, and you froze. 

You glanced back to find the guards making their way out of the room, not toward you. You watched them until they disappeared through the doors, unable to shake the thought that they might suddenly turn back and grab him. 

“We won’t discuss this here.” The king announced, his voice coming firm, and final. “Everyone clean up and go to my study. Now.”

You paced in your room counting down the minutes until Kaylen would show up. Erin hadn’t been able to find Kaylen that night; however, Luke had assured her that as soon as his prince returned, he would come find you. Prince Kaylen wasn’t one to lay idle as he waited for Sylus and you. Instead of trade envoys, the crown prince of Onychinus himself was in your home, and every noble of certain standing was eager to meet with him. Each time that he returned, he carried a stack of papers in his hands: contracts, agreements, and the Gods knew what else. But that also meant that he was quite difficult to get a hold of.

A knock on your door brought you back to the present, and you hurried to answer it. You came face-to-face with a butler.

“Did Prince Kaylen return?” You asked, eager to meet with him.

“No, my lady,” the butler bowed. “His Majesty requests your presence.”

“Oh,” you mumbled. You hadn’t expected to hear from your parents. “Did he say what for?”

The butler simply shook his head.

You followed the butler down the hallway, and shot a confused look back at Sylus as he fell into step behind you. He only shrugged, his brow furrowed.

The walk down to the council room felt endless, every step echoing across the stone walls. When you arrived at your destination, the butler opened the double doors with a bow, and you stepped into the room.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” you heard the butler’s voice behind you. You turned to find him standing in Sylus’s way. “His Majesty has requested that the princess attends alone.”

Sylus looked taken aback, and he scowled down at the butler, but he didn’t argue. You smiled at him, trying not to show your own concern that your knight was barred from joining you. Sylus backed away from the entrance, and the butler shut the door from the outside.

You turned to look at your father. He was sitting at his council table, accompanied by your mother.

“What did you need me for, Father?” You tried to keep your tone light as you approached him.

“Come. Sit.” Your mother gestured vaguely at the empty seats.

You took a few steps closer, but the look on their faces made you hesitate.

Their faces looked stony, serious, as if they were about to deliver some terrible news to you.

“Why?” You asked apprehensively. “Is it war again?” Your stomach lurched at the thought of your brothers riding south again.

“No, child.” Your father shook his head. “Some… concerning stories have come to our attention.”

You felt the blood drain away from your face. “What kind of stories?”

Your parents shared a look, then your mother turned to you, and clasped her hands on top of the smooth table. “Has your knight…” She started, and looked at you, brows scrunched up with concern. “Done something to you?”

“P-pardon?” You stammered out weakly, and your eyes widened. “No. Why would you ask me this?”

Your mother sighed. “Then, you must answer, and you must tell us the truth.” She paused, and you felt panic jolt through your body. “Are you having an inappropriate relationship with that man?”

They know.

The thought hit you like a physical blow.

No. No. No. Not now.

How could they find out just as you’d finally resolved to reveal Sylus? You scrambled to remember what you had planned to say. You had imagined getting caught so many times, rehearsing what you would say in so many different ways.

Deny it.

Tell them it’s all nonsense and lies. Bored maids with nothing to do. You could never do something like this. You were their innocent daughter. They’d believe you.

But as your parents gazed back at you, waiting for an answer, you couldn’t bring yourself to lie.

Beg forgiveness.

You thought about sinking to your knees. You’d apologise. Promise that you’ll never do it again. Say it was a mistake, it was all your fault. You were young and stupid. And beg that they spare his life.

You realised that you couldn’t bring yourself to do that either.

Your mouth went dry. You felt like you were sinking.

“Well?” Your mother’s impatient voice cut through your panicked thoughts. “Answer me.”

Your gaze flickered between them, and you realised you’d been holding in your breath. You opened your mouth to speak, then hesitated again.

Then a different feeling washed over you. Anger, or defiance, you couldn’t tell which. Why should I have to grovel and apologise?

You crossed your arms, hiding your shaking hands. Your heart pounded so hard, you could feel it in your throat.

“Yes. And?” The words came out before you could stop them, much calmer and steadier than you felt. You forced your chin higher, despite your nerves.

The room fell silent. For a heartbeat, you couldn’t believe that you had said that. You weren’t entirely sure what came over you, but there was no going back now.

The king and queen stared at you, struggling to comprehend. “You were meant to deny it,” your father muttered, dumbfounded.

“No.” You repeated, clenching your jaw. “He’s my lover.”

“Lover?!” Your mother shrieked as she slammed her hands on the table, making her chair squeak across the floor as she rose from her seat. The sound made you flinch, but you somehow stood your ground. “What have you done?” Her voice echoed through the room.

“I took what I wanted!” You shouted back, not knowing where the courage had come from. “My brothers can do what they want, why can’t I?” Your hands fell away from your chest, and you clenched your fists.

“They do not keep common lovers. They take wives!” Your mother’s voice grew even louder.

“Dear…” your father placed his hand on hers, and she slowly lowered herself back down into her seat.

“And I would end up in a convent before you allowed me to find a husband,” you shot back.

Your mother’s jaw dropped all over again.

Before the king could intervene, your mother spat out, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You won’t allow anyone to court me!” You argued, your voice desperate now, pouring all of your pent-up frustration. “You won’t allow any prince, lord, or peasant to even approach me! No one is ever good enough!” Your breath came ragged as your nails dug deeper into your palms. “The common folk are saying I’m barren.” You felt yourself beginning to tremble, and took another sharp breath. You hadn’t planned to say that, but you couldn’t stop yourself any more. “They’re saying there’s something wrong with me!”

Your parents stared at you in stunned silence.

“Darling,” your father said tentatively. “You’ve only just come of age. You’re so young. Why are you in such a rush?”

“Because… b-because…” Your words stuttered with your uneven breaths. You took a moment to steady yourself. “Because I also want to go out. I wish to meet people. Do things. I’m sick of being locked up in this palace like an ornament!”

Your mother rested her elbows on the table, both hands covering her face. “This is our fault…” she muttered, her voice muffled behind her palms.

“My dear child,” your father looked at you, with a pained expression. “It is not the same. In this world…”

“Why not?” You demanded, taking a step towards them. “How am I any different from them?”

Your mother sighed heavily. “Do you think every princess lives her life getting stroked with a feather like you?” She massaged her temples, her voice much steadier than before.

“W-well,” you began, but she cut you off.

“Do you want us to sell you to the highest bidder, then?” She asked, her tone bitter. “And give you to some prince, who’ll keep you locked up in a different palace? To breed you for heirs, only to discard you when he finds something younger?”

Both you and your father winced at her words.

“Do you think every prince out there is the same as your brothers?” She gritted her teeth.

“What your mother means to say,” your father interjected, rubbing a hand over his face. “Is that we wouldn’t be able to protect you if you left. You don’t know what kind of people these powerful men are. The more gallant they seem, the more wicked they may be.”

“But…” Despite your shock, you felt the urge to defend yourself. “I'm not concerned with powerful men. I love Sir Skye!”

They didn’t look convinced.

“Couldn’t you just be patient?” Your mother asked. “You have your whole life ahead of you.”

“Madeleine wants to travel to Lemuria,” your father offered, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes. “Why don’t you go with her? Experience the world.”

“Then I’ll take Sir Skye with me,” you crossed your arms again. You were aware of how petulant you sounded, but you couldn’t afford to back down.

Your mother scoffed. “And what will you do with this Sir Skye, then?” She sneered. “Move up north and grow turnips together?”

You bristled. You didn’t appreciate that look on her face. “Yes, we will!”

Her scowl deepened. “You’re not going anywhere with him.” She turned sharply to your father, “We must call the guards. He can’t be allowed to ruin her reputation any further.”

Your stomach dropped.

No.

Not that.

“No!” You shouted, before the king could respond. “You can’t! He’s mine. Only I can send him away!”

The king frowned, “Not when he breaks his vows. He must be punished.”

“N-no!” Your stomach twisted as fear surged through you. “If you send him away, I’ll leave and never come back!”

“Now, wait–” your father began to speak.

Your thoughts raced desperately. You needed them to understand. You squeezed your eyes shut.

“I’ll throw myself on the moat spikes!” You shouted, your voice echoing through the room. When you opened your eyes, both of your parents looked on in horror. Did I take things too far, you wondered.

“Over some boy…” your mother whispered, in disbelief. You didn’t think she meant to say it aloud.

Your father was the first to recover, shaking his head. “You cannot continue this foolishness.”

You felt cornered. You didn’t know what else to threaten, but you couldn’t let them imprison Sylus before they knew his true identity.

Then you blurted out the first thing that came to your mind.

“Then let me marry the Qin prince!”

Your parents blinked at you, completely and utterly bewildered.

“Him, too?” Your mother gasped. “Are you dallying with a married man?”

You recoiled.

“Not him! Prince Sylus.” You rushed to clarify. “I will only set aside Sir Skye for Prince Sylus.”

Your parents paused.

“Why him?” Your father looked genuinely lost. “That man is missing.” He looked to your mother, as if she had an answer, but she seemed equally confused.

“Prince Kaylen said he’ll arrive soon,” you tried to justify your seemingly random choice.

Your mother narrowed her eyes at you with suspicion. “Did that prince put you up to this?”

“He did not!” You argued, and gathered yourself again. “I wish to marry a prince of Onychinus.” You repeated, with more conviction this time.

If you had to be honest with yourself, you had no clue where you were going with this. But you had your parents’ attention, and they were no longer speaking of imprisoning your knight. That was good enough for you.

“And you will forget about this knight?” Your father asked, though he looked dubious.

“Yes.” Your voice was firm.

“What makes you think Prince Sylus will have you now, once word gets around that you have lovers?” Your mother chewed her lip.

Anger sparked in your chest all over again, but you held back. You had antagonised them enough.

“His brother is here for a reason.” You answered. “You can convince him.”

Your parents slumped back into their chairs, looking defeated. You held your breath as you watched them in silence, clinging to a sliver of hope.

“Fine.” Your father sighed heavily. “We will speak to the prince.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but he put his hand up, silencing you.

“However,” he began, his firm voice bringing another wave of anxiety. “Until then, I will hear no more talk of running away. Or moat spikes.”

“Yes.” You nodded immediately.

“You will watch your behaviour.”

“Yes.”

“And you will be the epitome of propriety. You will not be the reason for any more rumours.”

“Yes.”

You were ready to promise anything.

“You will cease your relationship with this knight.”

“Yes.”

No.

Your father looked at you long and hard. You stood waiting, your hands feeling clammy with cold sweat.

“Go, then.” He concluded with resignation.

You turned stiffly on your heel and hurried toward the door, before your father could change his mind. As you reached for the door, you heard a small sob behind you, and your mother’s quiet voice, “…this is our doing.”

You glanced back through the crack of the door before it closed. Your mother had her head in her hands, and your father stared down at the table as if it held the answers for him. Your hand froze on the door and your anger faltered. You felt the urge to run back to them, but you thought better of it.

The moment the door shut behind you, your knees nearly gave out. The butler was long gone, and only Sylus remained. He gazed at you, worry etched all over his handsome face, waiting for you to speak.

Despite your promises mere seconds ago, you ran at him and took his hand, then pulled him into the first room you saw.

He followed you quietly, clicking the door shut behind him. You stood in the middle of the study with your back to him, taking deep breaths, and trying to calm your racing mind. Sylus approached you wordlessly and placed his hands on your shoulders, squeezing gently.

“Did you hear?” You croaked out. You suddenly realised how sore your throat was.

“Yes,” He enveloped you in his embrace. “It was hard not to.”

You placed your hand on his arm across your chest, not daring to look at him.

“What about the end?” You asked, uncertainty washing over you.

“No.” He rested his cheek on your head. “Tell me.”

You squirmed a little and turned in his arms. You balled your fists on his breastplate and looked up at him. “I promised them to end our relationship.”

Sylus’s face dropped, and he stepped back, withdrawing his hands from you like he’d been burned. “Why?” He looked genuinely wounded, the expression on his face sending another wave of panic through your chest.

“I told them that I wish to marry the real Sylus!” Your words tumbled out in a rush to explain.

His eyes widened, and he stared at you as you wrung your hands with worry. For a long moment, he didn’t move — didn’t even blink. Then he looked away, and covered his face with the back of his hand.

“Sylus?” You called his name and looked at him, trying to peer behind his hand. You saw a deep red flush spread along his cheek and ear. “Wait… are you blushing?”

He looked at you from behind his hand, then away again. “You asked to marry me,” he mumbled.

This is what he took away from everything?

For some unknown reason, his embarrassment flustered you as well. “We’ve talked about it before!”

“You’ve never said it yourself,” he lowered his hand and smiled at you.

“W-well…” You crossed your arms, and tilted your chin up proudly. You looked away, feeling heat rise to your own cheeks. “If you don’t want to, now is the time to run!”

“Of course I do,” he smiled down at you as he pulled you into another embrace. “After everything I’ve done, I’m not going to change my mind now.”

“Good,” you said with a small, shy smile, and wrapped your arms around his waist, holding him close. He rested his chin on the top of your head as you finally allowed yourself to wind down.

“I can’t believe I did that,” you muttered, gripping his armour tight. All the fear, anger, and frustration escaped your body, leaving you drained. It felt cathartic to say those things to your parents, but at the same time you felt embarrassed at your outburst. Maybe I shouldn’t have, you thought for a split second, but then you realised: it felt like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders. Your eyes prickled with tears.

“My brave, brave girl,” Sylus said softly, as he cradled you in his arms.

“You know…” He called your name. “We’re a lot more similar than you realise.”

You looked up to see him smirking down at you. “How so?”

“It seems like when you want something, neither king nor queen can stop you.” He playfully tapped the tip of your nose.

You huffed and tried to hide your face again. “You must have corrupted me.”

Sylus cupped your cheek and gave your lips a sweet peck. “Maybe so,” he said with a smile.

“What do we do now?” You asked once he pulled away.

“We stay the course.” He brushed a strand of hair away from your face. “We will meet my brother as planned. We’ve hit a snag, but it’s not the end.”

You made your way down to the dining hall, your footsteps quick against the polished stone floors. A butler had come to you earlier that day to inform you that your father had invited important guests to dinner and required the whole family to attend. Running late, you hurried down the hallway with Sylus on your tail. When the butlers opened the doors for you, you drew a breath to offer your apologies, but the words died on your tongue.

To your shock, your entire family sat along a long table, with Prince Kaylen and Prince Xavier sitting across from your brothers. You hadn’t known which guests to expect, but it certainly wasn’t them. 

You stammered an apology and shuffled toward a seat that had been pulled out for you, beside your brother Sebastian. Sylus quietly took his post near the doors. From the corner of your eye, you noticed he situated himself next to Prince Xavier’s curly-haired knight, deliberately away from Kaylen’s black-armoured guards. 

At the head of the table, your father beamed at you.  

“I am so pleased to see a new generation of future rulers, gathered at my table!” He announced as you took your seat, heart hammering with anxiety. 

You stared down at your plate as the king launched into a speech about peace and friendship across the continent. Your father was no doubt proud that the crown princes of the two most powerful kingdoms had decided to grace your little land with a prolonged visit. They both have ulterior motives, though, you thought, forcing yourself to focus on your food.

The scent of roasted meat and warm bread distracted you, and you tuned out his words as you dug into your plate. 

“...And I look forward to welcoming Prince Sylus at my table.” 

Your father’s words made you inhale sharply. You choked on your food.

“That’s how most ladies react,” Prince Kaylen said smoothly. Laughter rippled around the table as you coughed and spluttered, while Sebastian rubbed your back and pressed a handkerchief into your hand.

“I received a message today that my little brother’s ship has finally docked,” Prince Kaylen continued. “He will be joining us shortly.” He shot a look across the table, directly at you.

He’s doing this on purpose, you thought, your chest tightening as you dabbed the handkerchief to your lips. What is he trying to say? 

“He can’t be that little anymore. How old is he now?” Your father asked. 

As everyone at the table tucked into their food and began to chatter among themselves, you strained to listen to your father’s conversation.

“He’ll be twenty one next Spring,” Kaylen answered politely.

“Ah, he’s a man grown now.” Your father rubbed his chin. “I remember your father at that age. A mountain of a man - broad like you, but twice as brash.”

“His age is catching up to him now,” Kaylen smiled, and paused for a moment. “But the one who truly takes after Father is Sylus. The resemblance is uncanny, in looks and spirit.”

You tapped your foot anxiously on the floor. It felt as if he was prompting your father to notice. You forced yourself to take a sip of water, but your hands trembled around the glass.

The king hummed thoughtfully. “He sounds like he would be hard to miss.” 

You caught Prince Xavier looking away, eyebrows raised in disbelief as he took a long swig from his cup. Heat flooded your face, and you nervously shoved food in your mouth with shaking hands, eager to finish your meal and leave. You prayed to all gods who would listen, that nobody noticed the state of you.

“I see a great deal of the queen in you.” Your mother swirled her wine glass. “You will make a fine ruler.”

Prince Kaylen bowed his head humbly. “You are too kind, Your Majesty.”

“It’s a shame King Aylus didn’t visit this time,” your mother continued. “He always did love a good feast.”

“He regrets that he couldn’t come,” Kaylen smiled apologetically. “But he promises not to miss the next one.”

Your mother frowned, but before she could question him, your father laughed. “He’d best not, or I’ll be offended!”

You couldn’t sit and listen any longer. You were terrified that as the evening went on and the wine flowed, with Sylus standing there in plain sight, something would slip. That some careless word would make all the pieces click into place for your parents. You decided not to tempt fate any further and wolfed the rest of your food down as quickly as you could.

“Please excuse me.” You stood abruptly from your chair. “The chef never fails to put me to sleep with his cooking.” You laughed, patting your stomach.

Once you had wished everyone good night, you fled into the hallway, where you finally felt you could breathe again.

You thought about that dinner again as you lay on your lounge chair, basking in the peace and quiet of the afternoon. You had felt so uncomfortable, listening to your family discuss Sylus as if he weren’t standing just a few feet away. 

At the very least, everyone’s efforts seemed to be paying off. Your parents were now looking forward to meeting Sylus, a far cry from their earlier apprehension. To your astonishment, stories about Prince Sylus’s chivalry, good deeds and impressive feats had spread like wildfire. Just as Sylus had promised. On occasion, servants would steal glances at you as they whispered his name. It was almost frightening how quickly reputations could change when the right people were telling the stories. 

You stretched on your lounger, eyes closed, enjoying the bit of afternoon sun streaming through the window. An open book lay across your stomach and soft music played from the other end of the room. Erin sat across from you, fully focused on her embroidery, while Sylus had seated himself into an armchair nearby, one foot propped over his knee. He held his sword in one hand, gliding an oiled cloth along the freshly sharpened blade as he hummed along with the music. 

As much as you enjoyed the peaceful moment, you found that lazy days were when your mind raced with anxiety the most. 

Prince Xavier hadn’t bothered you again, but you had come across him at court several times, closely followed, and monitored, by his knight. To your relief, he seemed unharmed. You had asked Doctor Zayne about this “Hedgwick” character, and he had described him as a “talented herbalist, with a penchant for quackery”. You weren’t sure if that was meant to be praise, but you were relieved to learn that at least you hadn’t been poisoned. After a quick examination of you and your knight, Doctor Zayne concluded that both of you were fit and healthy. Then, with a short lecture to never attempt something like that again, he sent you on your way. 

You had tried to bring up your strange dream to Sylus once more, and he had brushed it off as nonsense. “It’s not worth thinking about,” he had said. “Even your physician called him a quack.” So you decided to try and forget about it. After all, you didn’t want to catch Prince Xavier’s obsession with dreams. 

However, every encounter left you with the same unsettling realisation. The number of people who knew about Sylus was growing every day. 

Prince Xavier knew.

Prince Kaylen and his men knew.

Doctor Zayne knew.

Your cousin knew.

Rafayel, the Lemurian artist, surely knew. 

The servants whispered about your relationship with Sir Skye.

You thought back to when you were blissfully unaware of Sylus’s identity, and you wondered how many times he must have narrowly avoided being exposed. You had become careless with your affections for him, too. You sometimes wondered if you purposely pushed the boundaries and tempted fate. You feared that your grasp on your secret was loosening, slipping through your fingers no matter how hard you tried to hold on. Things were starting to develop beyond your control.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the click of the door, and a chipper voice greeting you. You cracked an eye open to see one of your favoured maids, Jennie, approaching with a tray. She placed it on your table and began preparing your tea. 

“You always appear at the right moment,” you said lazily. “I sometimes worry that you’re a mind reader.” 

Jennie giggled. “Oh I wouldn’t say so, Your Highness.” She stirred your tea. “If anyone can read your mind, it’s Erin.” 

“Have the fish merchants visited yet?” Erin asked, looking up from her embroidery. 

“Could you smell them?” Jennie laughed. 

“Mmm. I adore fresh seafood,” you muttered dreamily. 

“Seafood is not all they bring,” Jennie said with a sly smile as she wiped her hands on her apron.

“Oh?” She had your full attention then.

“One merchant said that the fishermen have been talking about that missing prince,” she said.

“Did they catch him in their nets?” You asked, making both maids chuckle. 

“They said they’ve seen him!” Jennie leaned in. “And apparently he got lost at sea while hunting a kraken!” 

You let out an interested hum. “He could feed the entire castle with one squid.”

“Krakens don’t even exist.” Erin shook her head. “Who is coming up with those tall tales?” 

You caught a slight smirk on Sylus’s face as he continued to shine his blade. 

“Well, the Lemurian merchants claim it to be real!” Jennie placed her hands on her hips. “Besides, everyone knows that’s not why he’s late.” 

As soon as the words left her mouth, her face froze, as if she’d seen a ghost. “I-I should get back to the kitchen!” She stammered with a short curtsy. 

Erin pursed her lips and reached into her basket of threads, suddenly very interested in her work.

“What do you mean?” You sat up in your seat, snapping your book shut. “What does everyone know?” You caught Sylus’s movements freezing, his hand stopping mid-stroke on the blade. He didn’t look up, but you could feel that he was also waiting to hear what she had to say.

“Nothing, my lady.” Jennie muttered, her eyes fixed on the floor. “Please forgive me, it’s nonsense.”

“Jennie,” you called her name, your voice firm. “Look at me.”

Jennie looked up, nervously chewing the inside of her cheek.

“Tell me what the folk are saying.”

“Well…” She squirmed under your gaze. “They say that… he’s late on purpose. So that, um…” She clasped her hands over her apron. “So that he doesn’t take attention away from the royal wedding.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” your brow furrowed in confusion. “Why would he take away from the wedding?” 

“Because, they say that you’re going to…” she glanced towards Sylus, then dropped her voice to a whisper. “Get engaged to him.” 

“Oh?” You kept your voice light. “And what’s wrong with that?” 

“Well, you know…” She couldn’t help glancing in your knight’s direction again. Sylus pretended not to listen, holding his blade up to inspect its shine. “No reason,” she muttered.

“I see.” You smiled to reassure her that she wasn’t in trouble. “Thank you, Jennie. You may go.” 

She dropped into a clumsy curtsy and made her escape. 

For a long moment, the three of you sat in thick silence. You sucked in a breath through your teeth. “Everyone knows,” you repeated slowly, pursing your lips in a thin line. 

“My lady.” Erin rubbed the bridge of her nose with an exasperated sigh. “I tried to warn you, but…” She took a steadying breath. “What do you expect people to think, when your guard is lounging in your room, rubbing his sword!” 

She threw her hands in the air, and both you and Sylus snorted in unison. Erin stared at you incredulous, failing to see the humour.

“I’m sorry.” You pressed your fingers over your mouth, your shoulders shaking. “You’re right, Erin.” 

“These stories are my brother’s doing,” Sylus said, sheathing his sword back in its scabbard. “He told the king, right in front of you, that I’ve arrived. He’s getting impatient and wants us to get moving.”

“But how?” All your previous worries came flooding back. “How do we introduce you? No matter what I think of, no matter what story I imagine, I can’t come up with any scenario where my parents don’t find out that you were my knight all along.” 

Sylus placed the sword across his lap and tapped his fingers against the scabbard. “We could say I lost my memories from an injury. That I started a new life, became a mercenary, and my reunion with my brother brought everything back.”

“We could take you to Hedgwick again and say he cured you,” you offered. 

“These are just more lies, my lady,” Erin shot you a disapproving look. You pouted, but you had to agree. More lies would only bring more problems. 

“What if we celebrated your arrival with a masked ball?” You suggested. “You could arrive already wearing a mask.” That one seemed actually thrilling. You had fancied a masked ball anyway.

Sylus looked as if he were considering your idea. “Yes. We ease them in.” He paused, and a doubtful expression crossed his face. “But after that, we’re back to the same issue.” 

“And we can’t swap you in and out of disguises forever.” You brushed your fingers through your hair and leaned your head back, staring at the ceiling. 

The silence stretched between you, heavy and thick. You could feel the weight of the truth you were both dancing around. 

Finally, Sylus set his sword aside. “There’s only one way forward then,” he said quietly.

You met his gaze, and you both seemed to come to the same conclusion. “We’ll have to confess the whole truth.” You were the first to say it aloud. 

“We can send word to my brother,” he suggested. “He will announce that I’m a day away. Then, at the agreed time, I will present myself to them.”

His words hung in the air. 

“Two days would be better,” you said. “So I can arrange your welcome. It would be best if only my family received you. If it’s public, it will humiliate my parents.” 

“While a small audience would force them not to act too rashly,” Sylus leaned his chin on his hand. 

“Yes.” You let out a heavy sigh. “We’re in a better position now. You seem more respectable, and your brother is building relationships as well.” You tried to reassure yourself more than him, but your voice wavered. You were terrified of your parents’ reaction. 

You didn’t know what the consequences would be for a foreign prince to take the kingsguard vows under a false identity. You had never heard of such a thing happening in your kingdom. 

You had been relieved that Kaylen wasn’t out for blood, but what if your family took it as an act of aggression? What if they thought Sylus was spying on them, or trying to undermine your kingdom? You couldn’t help but worry that they would do something to him, and cause his family to retaliate. They could burn your entire kingdom to the ground if they wished. Your stomach twisted painfully, and you balled your fists, gripping the fabric of your dress as your thoughts spiralled. 

Sylus rose from his seat and walked over to you, sinking to one knee. “I have spent a long time thinking about what to say to the king and queen.” He took your hand. “I only have one chance to convince them. I promise I won’t waste it.” 

You scooted over to make room for him beside you and took his hand in both of yours, squeezing it tightly.

“Erin.” Your throat felt tight, your voice strained. “Would you please find Prince Kaylen and request a meeting?” You muttered, looking down at your hands.

“Yes, my lady.” She placed her things down and jumped up from her seat, likely eager to give you privacy. 

“If not him, then look for one of the twins.” Sylus looked up at Erin. “They’ll make sure he gets the message.” 

Erin nodded and dashed out of the room, the door clicking shut behind her. Once you were alone, Sylus settled onto the lounger beside you and pulled you into his arms. 

“I’m scared.” The words came out quieter than you intended. “I want to go back to how things were.” Your voice cracked, and you sniffled, suddenly aware of how childish you sounded. 

“I know, my love,” Sylus’s voice was low and gentle. “I would love nothing else.” He rubbed soothing circles on your back. 

“Can we just run away?” You whined. “You could fish and I’ll weave baskets or something. Somewhere far away.”

He couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped him. “Look at me.” 

He pulled back slightly and you looked up at him, your brows scrunched with worry. He brushed your hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. 

“If they forbid us to marry and send me away,” he muttered, looking down at you, his ruby red eyes full of adoration. “I will take you with me.” 

“You won’t leave me behind?” To suffer the consequences alone, you wanted to say, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say the words. Your eyes filled with tears, your vision blurring.

“Never.” The finality in his voice comforted you. “I will snatch you away and lock you high up in a tower if I must.” 

His words cracked a small smile onto your face, despite everything. 

“No matter how many men, how many armies they send,” he continued. “I will never let them take you back.”

“Promise me.” You wiped a tear from your cheek with the back of your hand. “Like I promised you.” 

He held your face gently, clearing the tears away from your cheeks with his thumbs. “I swear to you.” 

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering on your skin. 

“A few more days,” he murmured. “And I’ll never have to wear this damned armour again.”

“Stay by my side until then.” You wrapped your arms around him tight, the grooves of his armour digging into your skin. 

Later that night, you stood beside Sylus in a dark corner of your courtyard, both of you wearing disguises similar to your night out to the fair. As promised, you waited for Prince Xavier to appear so that you would escort him into the capital. You were apprehensive about helping him, and you felt vulnerable knowing that this man recognised your lover. Still, you held onto the hope that assisting him would pay off in the end.

Sylus pulled your hood over your head and fastened it under your chin.

“It’s not that cold,” you whined, blowing away the stray furs from the hood’s lining. “It’s all over my face.”

“But you look so adorable.” Sylus cradled your face in his hands, squishing your cheeks. “I can’t wait to wrap you up in Onychinus and see you waddle through the snow.”

You huffed and tried to swat his hands away, but he leaned in and rubbed his nose against yours, then pressed a few quick pecks to your pouting lips. Before you could protest further, someone cleared their throat behind you. You turned to find Prince Xavier, wearing a disguise that Sylus had supplied him earlier, his hood hiding most of his face. 

“Here.” He handed you a piece of paper. “This is where I must go.”

Sylus stepped away from you and took the paper, unfolding it. He moved into the moonlight and squinted at the writing. “This address is in the scholars’ district.”

“I suppose so. I’m not familiar with your city,” Xavier shrugged.

“What’s at this address? You can find scholars at the palace.” You asked, growing anxious. You hoped you weren’t stepping into some dangerous plot.

“A somnomancer,” the prince answered.

“Pardon?” You pulled your hood down, thinking you hadn’t heard him right.

“A somnomancer. They study dreams.” Xavier repeated in full confidence, as if it were something completely normal. You looked to Sylus for help.

“Sounds like a fortune teller,” Sylus tucked the address in his pocket with a sigh. “Let’s get this over with.” 

You gasped as Sylus took your hand and led you along the courtyard, the other prince following close behind. “Wait – how can you gloss this over?” You whispered. “He sounds like a fraud!”

“I have been having strange, bizarre dreams for over a year now,” Xavier said in a hushed tone as you snuck around the palace grounds. “They say that this man can induce forgotten memories through dreams.”

“You cannot be serious!” You hissed. “You blackmailed me and dragged us out in the middle of the night so you can meet some quack?”

“He is not a quack,” Xavier explained calmly. “He is a sleep scholar. Unorthodox, but a scholar nonetheless.”

“There is no such thing as a sleep scholar!” You argued. Before you could continue, Sylus hushed you. All three of you pressed yourselves against a wall as you waited for the guards above you to walk away. 

After navigating out of the palace and sneaking through the dark, empty alleys in silence, you finally reached the streets where your kingdom’s most notable scholars lived and congregated. Sylus checked the note again, and after some wandering, you found the address. It was a small, unremarkable house, tucked away at the end of a dead-end street.

Sylus knocked on the door, but despite the faint light coming through the windows, there was no answer. He knocked again, louder. “We’re looking for–” he called out, then paused.

“Master Hedgwick,” Xavier prompted.

“Master Hedgwick!” Sylus shouted. You watched him, in awe at his ability to take anything in stride.

The door creaked open slightly. Sylus put his hand up, signalling for you to wait, then pushed the door open and peered inside. You held your breath as he stepped into the house. He looked around, then motioned for you to follow. 

The place looked exactly how you imagined an eccentric scholar’s home to look. Books and bits of parchment were piled in every corner, strewn across the floor, while papers covered in diagrams hung from the walls. Beakers and vials filled with various liquids, as well as powders, herbs, and other unrecognisable ingredients, were arranged over several tables and cabinets. You took in the view in awe, wondering whether this Hedgwick was some sort of wizard. 

While you were busy staring at an odd creature inside a jar, something brushed against your leg. You jumped in surprise, letting out a startled squeal. Both princes turned to check on you, reaching for their swords. You looked down to find a small, orange cat rubbing up against your legs.

“Aww, it’s only a kitten.” You cooed and went down to pet it, when a deep voice boomed from above you. 

“His name is Bertrand!” 

All three of you looked up to find an old, bearded man at the top of the stairs, wearing a long scholar’s robe and holding a lamp.

“Master Hedgwick,” Xavier stepped forward. “We are–”

“I know exactly who you are.” The old man interrupted with an authoritative voice, then pointed at Xavier. “I have been expecting you.”

“Was it magic?” You wondered aloud.

The old man looked at you. “He sent letters.”

“Oh.” You bit your lip, suddenly feeling foolish.

“Come, now.” He beckoned dramatically. “Come.”

You shared a look with Sylus and followed Xavier up the steps. Xavier glanced back at you and whispered, “I have been corresponding with Master Hedgwick for months. He believes I carry suppressed memories.”

Hedgwick led you to a dimly lit room - a desk and bookshelves on one side, and a bed and various cushions thrown haphazardly across the floor. He waved a hand, “Sit wherever you want.” Then pointed to Xavier, “You, on the bed.” 

Xavier followed his instructions, and Sylus and you shuffled onto some cushions against a wall. You were astonished at the way this old man ordered all of you around, wondering if he really knew he had royalty in his home. And yet, somehow, you all obeyed his instructions. 

“Master Hedgwick,” Xavier addressed the old man as he sat down on the bed. “Do you truly believe this will work?”

“Oh, yes.” The old man answered, rummaging through some drawers. “Dreams are connected to your soul. Through dreams, deep, entrenched memories can be uncovered.”

“My dreams have increased since entering this kingdom,” Xavier said. “I believe that something, or somebody here, may be triggering my lost memories.” You and Sylus exchanged awkward glances. For the first time that night, you felt as though you were intruding on something deeply personal.

“Yes, yes,” Hedgwick muttered, distracted. You couldn’t quite see what he was doing, but you could hear the clinking of glass and the pop of a bottle being opened. “We will uncover every hidden memory in that head of yours.”

You glanced at Sylus, who seemed as confused as you were. “What are they talking about?” You whispered. 

Sylus leaned into your ear and muttered, “He seems mad.” 

“I want to know everything.” Xavier gazed at Hedgwick, eyes full of hope. “I want to learn what all of my dreams mean. And I need to know if the girl from my dreams exists outside of my imagination.” 

The sincere look on his face sent a tiny pang of guilt through your chest. You suddenly regretted getting angry with him. You found yourself more invested in his mission than you should have been.

“Then we must waste no time. Drink this and make yourself comfortable.” The old man approached Xavier, holding a cup filled with a strange liquid. You could hear it fizzing from where you sat. 

As Xavier took the cup, you scrambled to get off the floor. “Wait, wait,” you called out. “I don’t think you should drink–”

Before you could finish, the prince had already downed the entire cup and placed it on the little bedside table. You stopped in your tracks, mouth agape, then slowly slumped back down in your seat.

“Now, then.” The old man turned to you. “We will begin soon. You may either leave or stay here. Either way, you must not disturb him.”

“We’ll stay,” Sylus said, and you nodded. You were not about to leave a foreign prince alone with this strange old man.

Hedgwick gave both of you a measuring look, then turned and seated himself in a rocking chair near the bed. Xavier lay down on the bed and rested his hands on his stomach, linking his fingers and taking a few deep breaths. You could tell from where you sat that he was nervous. 

Hedgwick took a pipe from a small table beside his chair and began to fill it with some fragrant herbs. “Tell me about the last dream you remember,” he instructed, as he worked his pipe. 

“There is always a field of flowers,” Xavier began, his voice already sounding a little dreamy. “Always the same blue…” 

The old man lit his pipe and hummed as he listened. Xavier continued to retell parts of his dreams - full stories turned to disjointed snippets and various details from different scenes. Hedgwick sat there quietly in his chair, taking puffs of his pipe, as Xavier’s words became more incoherent. Eventually, the prince mumbled a few unintelligible words, and his breathing grew even. 

The little ginger cat jumped onto Sylus’s lap, and he stroked its head gently. You leaned on Sylus and stroked the cat’s chin, making it nestle into a little loaf. You could scarcely believe that you were in a stranger’s house, watching Prince Xavier sleep. You wondered whether anyone would believe you if you told them. 

After a while, all you could hear were Xavier’s even breaths, the rocking chair’s quiet creaks, and Bertrand’s content purr on Sylus’s lap. You weren’t sure whether it was the quiet, dim room or the smoke filling the air, but you began to feel drowsy. Tired. Lightheaded. 

Until your head hit Sylus’s shoulder like a pillow and the room faded to black.

When you opened your eyes, you were surrounded by a field littered with red flowers. The smoke from Hedgwick’s pipe still lingered, obscuring your vision, leaving you in a daze.

To share your life with a fiend…

A voice echoed around you. It sounded a lot like Sylus.

“Sylus?” You tried to call out for him. “Where are you?” You tried to get up, but you felt slow and heavy, as if you were underwater.

Then you felt a chill - cold rain on your skin. Your surroundings blurred and shifted into stone ruins, moonlight streaming through the gaps.

We must offer half our soul to the other.

Sylus’s voice and strange words seemed to surround you like a warm embrace. You tried feeling your surroundings, but you couldn’t find him. 

They’ll be merged… 

“Wait… what did you say?” The candlelight had somehow turned to small embers, flying in the wind. The smoke, the embers and the flowers all blended in a blur of red in your consciousness.

You felt something warm coil around you, heavy, protective, familiar, and you squeezed your eyes shut. 

When you opened them again, you were back in the dim room, wrapped in Sylus’s arms, your face tucked into his chest. You looked up to find him rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“I had a very eerie dream,” you muttered, your voice still thick from sleep. 

“Hmm, and I as well.” His voice rumbled as he tucked your face further into his chest. 

When your mind cleared, you looked up and found Xavier and Hedgwick sitting side by side on the bed. Xavier looked down at his hands as he whispered something to the old man. Hedgwick stroked his beard and nodded along, muttering words you couldn’t hear. 

“What did you do to us?” You asked as you pulled away from Sylus. “Did you give us some sort of herb-induced nightmare?”

“I don’t decide what you dream of. I can only help you get there.” His casual tone sparked your anger. 

Before you could ask any more questions, Sylus rose to his feet and pulled you up. “We must leave this place.” He declared, then hastily pulled you down the stairs and out of the house, not bothering to check if Prince Xavier followed. You glanced back and only saw the little cat emerge from the house and stretch into the street.

The two of you hurried through the town in silence as the sun rose, rushing to return before the palace woke. Once you finally made your way inside, you walked down the corridors in a daze. As you pulled Sylus into your room, you heard a gasp. You turned to see a maid, holding a laundry basket, staring at you from across the hallway. 

Her eyes widened, and you wavered in your steps. Then you slammed the door shut, turning the lock.

“What did that old man do to us?” You tossed your coat onto a chair and kicked off your shoes, still a little shaken from the experience. You worried whether Prince Xavier had made his way back to the palace.

Sylus rubbed his chin. “He must induce visions through that smoke. I don’t know if he influenced us, but…” He approached you and pulled you into his arms. “You’re always on my mind, of course I would dream of you.”

You gazed up at him. “I dreamt of your voice. It sounded… solemn. You said strange things about our souls.”

He tilted his head, smiling down at you. “I did swear my body and soul to you. My oaths didn’t disappear once you learned my true identity.”

You nibbled on your lip, “You truly believe it was herbalist nonsense?”

“I do.” He leaned down and pressed his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. “I belong to you, and you belong to me.” His voice was low, certain. “If any other worlds exist, I will always find my way to you.”

You clung to him, pulling him closer as you deepened the kiss. You realised then how much you had missed the warmth of his body, without a heavy suit of armour separating you. When you pulled back to catch your breath, the question slipped out before you could stop it. “Should we go back and look for Prince Xavier?”

Sylus growled at your question and captured your lips again. “Enough of this Prince Xavier.” His voice was rough against your mouth, your breath mingling together. “We fulfilled his request.” He kissed you again, his hand tangling in your hair. “He’s none of our concern anymore.” 

You gasped, and he slid his tongue between your lips. His kisses overwhelmed your senses and took your breath away as he backed you across the room until your shoulders met the cold glass of the window, raising goosebumps on your skin. But his body pressed against yours was so warm it barely mattered. 

He pulled away and looked down at you with half-lidded eyes, his chest heaving. 

“But we shouldn’t have left him…” You began. 

He smiled at you, though the look in his eyes made it clear he was done sharing your attention. Before you could finish, he grabbed your shoulder and turned you away from him, pressing your chest against the cold window. You rested your cheek on it, your breath leaving small clouds of condensation on the surface. His hands travelled down your back, then up to the swell of your breasts as he pressed himself against you from behind. 

“Sylus.” You gasped. “Is this what you dreamt of?”

Sylus laughed, low and deep, as he slowly gathered your skirt, then lowered your undergarments. You heard a rustle of fabric, and then he was pressed between your legs, his length gliding over your heat. 

“You are all I ever dream about.” His voice was rough, breathless, as he rasped into your ear. You mewled at the feeling.

“And you?” He asked, as he coated himself in your slick. “Do you dream of pretty princes?” He pressed his lips to your ear. “Mmm… no, you don’t.” 

He pinned your shoulder to the window with one hand, then his other landed on your backside. A sharp smack echoed in the large bedroom, the impact making you let out a squeak.

“You dream of ruffians. And trouble.”

You instinctively pressed yourself back against Sylus. The movement made him groan, his hips bucking faster, setting off little sparks of pleasure through your body. 

You opened your eyes. Below, in the gardens, guards and maids had begun their morning routines, wandering the paths in the pale dawn light. It sent an unexpected surge of excitement through you. 

“Fuck…” Sylus swore under his breath. “You’re so wet.” His voice was strained, barely holding on. “Are you ready?”

“Y-yes…” You whimpered, arching your back and rising onto your tiptoes. 

He pulled back, adjusted himself, and began, with agonising slowness, to press his length inside you. A soft, broken sound escaped your lips as he stretched you, your nails scratching against the cold glass. Impatient, you pressed back into him, taking him deeper. 

When his body was finally fully flush against yours, he braced one palm on the window above you and wrapped the other arm around your body, holding you close. His shaky breath tickled your ear as he stood still for a heartbeat. Then he pulled back and began to thrust into you. He ground into your sweet spot with each movement, making stars burst behind your eyes. Your broken sobs spurred him on, his pace quickening, strings of curses and gasps falling from his lips. 

Your knees faltered. You scrambled for purchase against the window, fingers sliding on the glass, making it rattle against the frame. Sylus’s hands flew to your hips, gripping hard, propping you up as he pumped into you desperately. With every slap of his hips against yours, the window creaked. Your voice rose until you couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Sylus!” You cried out his name, and he bit your ear with a low, quiet moan. “Say it again.” His voice was breathy, desperate, tipping you over the edge. “Say my name.”

You chanted his name like a prayer as your climax crashed over you. Your knees buckled, and Sylus’s firm grip was the only thing keeping you standing. After a few powerful thrusts, he pressed in deep and shuddered, his own release washing over him, as he pulsed inside you. You both panted heavily, chests heaving. Sylus rested his hands on the window, caging you in. He pulled out of you with a soft sigh, his essence dripping down your trembling thighs. After a moment, you turned in his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a breathless kiss.

“Haven’t you learned that you’re the only prince for me?” You teased and poked his nose, making him smile.

“Hmm, no.” He went to bite your finger, but you quickly withdrew your hand with a giggle.

His hands slid down your body. He scooped you up, crossed the room to your bed, then tossed you on it effortlessly. You bounced on the plush mattress, laughing up at him.

“Well?” Maddie spun around theatrically, the silk of her clothes catching the morning light. “What do you think?”

You straightened in your seat, eyes widening as you fully took in her outfit. She wore a light blue two-piece set made of silk, the likes of which you had never seen before. It was so delicate and flowy that it was nearly sheer. She wore loose trousers that gathered at her ankles, and a shirt-like top that only fully concealed her chest. Long, sheer bell sleeves ran down her arms, while her stomach was completely bare.

“My word.” You pressed a hand to your chest, marvelling at her ensemble. “It’s as if you’re wearing nothing at all! Is this what they truly wear in Lemuria?!”

Maddie threw her head back and laughed, bright and carefree. She struck a pose showing off her shoe, which was merely a few straps of leather and a thin sole. 

“Be careful,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows at you suggestively, “or you might catch a glimpse of my ankle.”

“Your ankles are the least of your problems,” you grinned, unable to tear your eyes away from the outfit. “Are you sure this isn’t a night gown?”

It was undeniably a scandalous outfit. You could only imagine the gasps and pearl-clutching if she dared to wear it in public. Your gaze flickered instinctively toward Sylus, who stood by the door, his pretence of a knight firmly in place. A small, irrational voice in the back of your mind wondered if he would sneak a look at your cousin’s body. To your relief, he stood perfectly still, eyes fixed on the floor, half-lidded with boredom. You couldn’t tell whether he genuinely was uninterested or if he looked away in courtesy.

Maddie shook her head, oblivious to your thoughts. “No, this is truly what Lemurians wear in public. Watch this!” She took out a small, sheer square of cloth and held it to her face, draping it over her nose like a veil. “This is meant to be a headpiece, but I don’t understand how I’m meant to wear it.”

“You should ask your Lemurian friend to fasten it on for you.” You leaned forward, a sly smile on your lips.

Madeleine flipped the cloth over her hair like a headscarf, “Rafayel did say I would need help with it.”

“Is that his name?” You asked, and Sylus looked up at the mention. 

Maddie looked at you as if you’d sprouted a second head. “What do you mean, is that his name? He’s the Rafayel!” She threw her arms wide, as if expecting him to make a grand entrance. “The world-famous painter of Lemuria!”

“Oh!” You jolted in your seat. “Well, how was I supposed to know there wasn’t more than one Rafayel?”

“What other Rafayel would attend a royal wedding?” Maddie giggled, and you found yourself pouting. 

You knew your guests would be important, but you couldn’t honestly claim to know much about Lemurians. You thought back to your brief interaction at the wedding. “Did he think I was rude to him?” You asked, wincing at the memory. You had been so flustered that night that a quick nod was all you could offer her companion. “I was going through something…” You trailed off, embarrassed.

“Nonsense.” Maddie waved away your worries as she adjusted her headpiece. “Any man would count himself lucky to be even acknowledged by our princess.”

You pursed your lips, unconvinced. Artists were known to be fickle. You weren’t sure he would be willing to provide any favours at all, if he perceived that he was snubbed. “Maddie…” you started tentatively, “Would Lord Rafayel–”

“Ah-ah!” Maddie lifted a finger to stop you. “There are no lords in Lemuria.” 

You paused, taken aback. “But isn’t his father on the council of Lemuria? Surely, they aren’t ruled by commoners!”

“They take offence to that word,” she corrected, shaking her head.

“Well, what are they, then?” You asked, more confused than before.

“Have you been skipping Lady Jade’s lessons?” Maddie tutted in mock disappointment. “They call themselves citizens.”

“Like townsfolk?” You pulled a face. “How does one become a councillor, then?”

“The council elects whoever is deemed rich and powerful enough,” she answered, fiddling with the straps of her headpiece.

“It sounds like mayhem.” You shook your head, though you weren’t surprised that your cousin was so interested in that place.

Maddie sighed dreamily. “It’s so intriguing. I would love to see it someday.”

“So, Maddie…” You attempted to bring your request up a second time, your voice careful. “Do you think lo– er, Mister Rafayel would be unimpressed by royalty?”

She hummed thoughtfully as she inspected her outfit in her mirror. “Of course he wouldn’t! They may not have kings, but he knows where power lies.”

“Then… do you think that he would like to have me, or the Qins, in his debt?” You bit your lip.

She turned to face you fully. “Absolutely! Who wouldn’t?”

“In that case…” You took a deep breath, “Would you be willing to convince him to stay a while longer? And provide a favour for Prince Sylus.”

Her lips opened, then closed, as if her words died in her mouth. She stared at you. “Why would he do any favours for him?” She took a step towards you, narrowing her eyes. “And why would you?”

“Let’s just say I’ve been in contact with him.” You said sheepishly, fidgeting with the fabric of your dress.

She let out an excited squeal and rushed to your side. “Have you been scheming with that Prince?! Is that why you looked pale as a ghost the other night?”

You pursed your lips, drumming your fingers on your knees. You didn’t know how to ask without revealing everything to her. As much as you loved your cousin, a small part of you worried whether she could keep such a dangerous secret. You looked to Sylus, hoping for a sign from him. He met your gaze with a smile and gave you a small, reassuring nod.

You let out a long, shaky breath. “Prince Sylus is already here.”

“Where?” She demanded with a wide grin on her face. 

You pointed towards your knight. “That’s him,” you muttered and waited anxiously for her reaction.

Her smile froze on her face. She turned to look at Sylus, moving almost like a marionette on stiff strings. He met her gaze with a calm, knowing smile.

“No!” She gasped, but you could see the excitement practically vibrating through her. She approached your knight, carefully, as if not to spook him. “Is this true?” 

“I swear on my family’s honour,” he answered, placing a hand over his heart.

Maddie whipped around to look at you, her hands flying to cover her mouth in a silent scream. “Your knight is a prince!” She exclaimed, then ran back to you, the Lemurian outfit fluttering around her. “How, why, since when? I need to know–” the questions spilled out of her mouth. “I need to know everything!”

“Maddie, slow down.” You took her hands and guided her to sit beside you. “I promise to tell you everything. But first, I need you to swear that you’ll keep this a secret! It’s very important to me that you do.”

Maddie nodded so vigorously you worried she might snap her neck. “I swear! Of course, I swear!” She said, gripping your hands firmly. “But what do you need Rafayel for?” She looked back towards Sylus. 

He leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, no longer having to keep the rigid stance of a knight. “I don’t have the best reputation presently,’ he explained. “Everyone believes I’ve been to Lemuria. I need someone of good standing to confirm my good virtue to Her Highness’s family.”

“Ah, yes…” She placed her hands to her cheeks, a blush spreading across her face. “I also may have… contributed to certain tales about you.”  

“Would you please help us, Maddie?” You pleaded with her. “He doesn’t need to lie much. I promise that his own reputation will not suffer.”

“I will say anything you wish, Prince Sylus!” She said, voice full of conviction. “What virtues of yours will he extol?” 

Sylus hummed thoughtfully, tapping his temple. “Bravery, intelligence, charity, my beautiful singing voice…” He listed, and Maddie nodded along earnestly. “But most importantly, my loyalty. He must dispel the rumours that I have been chasing skirts, or… trousers, I suppose.”

She clasped her hands together, “You can count on me! I will also personally ensure that every tearoom in the capital hears of these virtues!” Then she gasped. “I know! I will have him say,” she turned to you, making you jump in your seat, “that your dear Prince Sylus proclaimed his love for one, and only one Princess during his stay.” 

You felt heat flood your cheeks at her implication.

“Even better,” Sylus added. “I went to Lemuria to prove my worth and grow as a man. Only then would I return to find her.”

“Please, no, that’s so cliché…” You began to protest, burying your face in one hand.

“Nah-ah! Let us brew,” your cousin interrupted, then beckoned Sylus over. “Please, sit with us. This is fantastic.”

Sylus walked over with a satisfied grin, settling on the cushion beside you. 

You spent the rest of your meeting inventing stories that she would pass to the unsuspecting artist. Or rather, Sylus and Madeleine did. You spent most of the time hiding your face behind a cushion, begging them to tone it down, certain that your cheeks had gone every possible shade of red. 

Later, when Madeleine saw you to your carriage, she gently pulled on Sylus’s cape before he could climb in after you. 

“What sort of reward shall I offer?” She whispered, conscious of the carriage driver. “Rafayel has no need for gold.”

Sylus considered her words, then leaned close. “He may request any royal favour of me, or my brother.” He muttered, his voice low, barely audible. “And we will grant it.”

“Without question?” Her eyebrows shot up.

“Without question.” He confirmed, then climbed into your carriage, seating himself beside you. 

You waved to your cousin as your carriage lurched forward, the clatter of hooves on cobblestones filling the silence. You leaned into Sylus, resting your head on his armoured shoulder. His closeness felt reassuring, despite the hard, cold steel pressing against your cheek.

“I wish the rest of my family would react with the same amount of delight,” you muttered.

Sylus looked down at you, his crimson gaze soft. He lifted your chin gently with his gloved fingers. “Trust our plan. Once their view of me improves, they will be easier to convince.”

You searched his eyes, finding nothing but certainty and gave him a small smile. “If you’re sure of it, I will trust you.” 

Sylus leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. “We won’t have to hide forever,” he muttered against your mouth. 

“And no one will object to us,” you whispered the words like a prayer, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Sylus pulled you onto his lap, one arm circling your waist. He pressed his nose into your hair, inhaling your scent deeply. “Nobody will keep me away from you,” he promised.

"What would you do if they tried?" You asked, nervous to hear his answer. Would he give up? The question had been playing on your mind ever since he told you his story. "What would you do if I were already engaged or married when you found me?"

"Then I would just have to steal you," he said, playfully biting your neck, making you laugh. "Dragons love to steal a Princess."

Then he paused. “But I must confess…” 

You leaned back to look at him; his expression had grown serious again. Sad, almost. “Confess what?”

He played with a strand of your hair, admiring the way it caught the light. “It’s becoming increasingly frustrating, playing the role of a sworn knight.”

“Why is that?” You asked.

He exhaled, long and slow. “I feel so… restrained. I put myself in this position. I’m forced to stand behind you in silence and watch, or risk being discovered at the wrong time. I want to solve this for you. For us.”

You held his face gently in both hands, your thumbs stroking the sharp line of his cheekbones. “We must all play our roles,” you said softly, swaying with the gentle motion of the carriage. “And we must be patient. Just as you told me.”

He kissed the inside of your palm, letting his lips linger against your skin. “You’re right, my love.” His voice was muffled against your hand. “I worry that…” he hesitated, his brow furrowing. He trailed off, as if searching for the right words. You waited patiently for him, knowing that if you interrupted, he would brush it off. 

“I worry that you’ll decide that this isn’t worth the trouble,” he finally admitted.

You felt a pang in your chest. “I would never think that.” You squeezed his cheeks softly with your thumbs, pulling his face towards yours. “And I like that you’re trouble.”

His smile was soft, vulnerable in a way a Prince would rarely allow himself to be. His arms tightened around you, pulling you close for another kiss - deeper this time, and more certain. When he finally pulled back, his breath was warm against your lips. 

“I only wish,” he murmured, “that you didn’t need to be so brave for us.”

The next couple of days passed uneventfully. Sylus reassured you that his plans were in motion, that his merry band of henchmen had been busy at work, sowing the seeds for his return. All you had to do was be patient, and plan your next steps. 

Then a letter arrived from Madeleine.

You broke the seal eagerly, unfolding the single page. It contained only three words: He said yes. Beneath them, she had drawn a crudely shaped fish, its fins lopsided and its eye far too large. You laughed and waved the letter at Sylus excitedly.

It was a crisp winter morning, when you pushed the heavy doors open and skipped into the library, your knight following close behind. The moment the oak doors clicked shut, Sylus’s arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you flush against his body. 

“What’s the rush, My Lady?” He murmured into your ear, his low voice far steadier than your own ragged breathing. 

You placed your hands over his arms, holding him in place. “Lady Jade is looking for me.” You turned in his embrace to face him, your hands sliding up to rest on his shoulders. 

He hummed, low and pleased, and began to sway with you gently in the silent library. “And you’ve escaped to the last place she would expect.” 

“Precisely,” you answered, satisfied with your own cleverness. 

With your visitors beginning to dwindle, the palace was gradually returning to its regular schedule. And with that, Lady Jade had decided that it was time to resume your studies. However, you were in no mood to study. After all the events and revelations that came with your brother’s wedding, you felt like you'd learned enough. You craved a bit of normalcy, a break for you and your secret Prince. So, you decided that Lady Jade and your lessons could wait a while longer.

You held Sylus closer as you swayed, then rose on your tip toes and gently bit the soft skin just beneath his jaw. He sucked in a sharp breath, his hands tightening around your waist. 

“You should check if the library is empty,” you whispered against his neck. 

He stared at you for a brief moment, then captured your lips in a kiss. “Wait for me in our spot,” he breathed hastily. His hand slid down to your backside and gave it a squeeze before he peeled himself away. 

You hurried to the winding staircase, lifting your dress to climb up the steps. When you reached the top, you glanced back to find Sylus gazing up at you, his eyes dark. Slowly, deliberately, you lifted your dress higher, exposing the ruffles of your underwear, then dropped it. His eyes widened, and you chuckled, waving him off. 

“Go, go!” you mouthed to him. As he began his inspection of the lower floor, you walked down one row, then climbed up a ladder and searched for your hidden reading nook. It was a small space that you had created for yourself - and now shared with Sylus, tucked away between the heavy bookshelves. You had gutted it, removed the books, and lined it with thick duvets and cushions. When you approached your hidden corner, however, you noticed a pair of white boots sticking out from within. Your heart, still hammering from your escape, began to beat faster with alarm. 

You approached slowly, cautiously, until you could peer into the nook. 

On your nest of cushions and duvets lay a young man, pale, with short, blond hair. He appeared to be asleep or unconscious, you couldn’t tell. His outfit was pristine white and silver, with a high collar, a long coat and a royal blue sash. He must be someone extraordinary, you thought. 

Heavy footsteps echoed behind you and turned to find Sylus approaching. You placed a finger to your lips, signalling for his silence, then pointed at the boots. He nodded, his expression sharpening as he approached carefully. 

“Look at this,” you whispered to Sylus, eyes wide. “Have you seen anyone as pretty as this?”

He looked taken aback, a small frown creasing his brow. He bent down slightly and rested his arm on the top of the nook. “What do you mean, pretty?”

“There's an angel sleeping in my library!” Your eyes sparkled.

Sylus glanced over at the sleeping figure again, unimpressed. “That’s a man, sweetie,” he said flatly.

“He can’t be a regular man!” You grabbed Sylus’s arm, whispering urgently. “What if he’s from the future?”

Sylus raised an eyebrow. “What would he be doing here, then?”

“Maybe he was in a carriage accident! And he was sent here to save us from a terrible tyrant!”

“Do we have a tyrant around?” He asked dryly.

“It could be someone who pretends to be good, but is actually a villain.” You nodded, warming up to your own story.

Sylus looked at you with barely concealed amusement. “That’s starting to sound a lot like me.”

“You’re no villain, you’re just… mischievous.” You swatted his chest playfully.

“If you say so,” Sylus muttered and looked down at the stranger again. He nudged his boot with the tip of his sabaton. “Are you sure he’s alive? Our saviour looks dead.”

“I’ll check,” You whispered, and before Sylus could protest, you gathered your skirt and climbed carefully into the nook, leaning over the sleeping figure. His chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm. His eyelashes were impossibly long, fanning against his pale cheeks. “He looks ethereal,” you murmured, leaning closer to inspect him. 

“He’s not that pretty,” Sylus grumbled behind you, rolling his eyes. “And what does it matter? I’m taller, you know.” His mutter was barely audible, and you had to bite your lip to suppress a laugh. 

That’s when the stranger stirred beneath you. His eyes shot open - a striking, vivid blue, and you froze, hovering over him like a startled deer. He jolted at the sight of you, his body lurching upward. 

“Ow!” you squeaked as his forehead collided painfully with yours. 

Disoriented, you scrambled backward, directly into Sylus, who was trying to reach for you. Your elbow hit his breastplate, sending another jolt of pain through your body, the metallic ring echoing into the vast hall. Your arms flailed for a moment, then his hands caught your waist as he steadied you. You leaned into him, one hand pressed to your throbbing forehead. 

“Let me see.” He brushed your hair aside gently, his gloved fingers cool against your skin. For a moment, he seemed to forget that you weren’t alone. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “There, there,” he cooed, but his voice shook slightly, as if he was holding back laughter.

You heard a soft groan and turned to see the stranger rubbing his own forehead with a pained wince. 

“Do you want me to arrest him?” Sylus asked, his hand moving to rest on the hilt of his sword. 

“No, no.” You shook your head, holding on to the wooden shelves for balance. “It looks like I did enough damage to him.” 

You bent down again to look at the blonde once more. “Are you alright?”

“I… yes. Yes, I am.” He blinked up at you, still a little dazed from sleep and your collision. “I’m so sorry.”

“How did you end up here?” You extended a hand to help him climb out of the nook. 

Once he was standing next to you, he patted down his coat, straightening the fabric. “I was hiding,” he answered simply. “I found this spot and drifted off.”

“Identify yourself,” Sylus stepped forward, scowling at him. “You’ve assaulted Her Highness, the Princess of Solen.”

The stranger’s eyes went wide. He attempted a bow, as best as he could in the cramped library aisle. “I apologise, My Lady. Truly.”

“It was only an accident.” You placed your hand on Sylus’s arm, reassuring him more than the stranger. “Who are you hiding from? Are you in trouble?”

“No, it’s only my… handler,” he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. 

You shared a glance with Sylus, “A handler? Is it your tutor?” You guessed. “I’m hiding from mine, too!” You whispered, as if Lady Jade could hear you through the walls.

The stranger paused, as if considering your words. “Yes,” he finally answered. Then his gaze flickered to the scowling knight beside you. “I’ve seen your face on a wanted poster.”

Sylus gripped his sword again, “I’ll put your face on a wan–” 

“Sy–, Skye!” You interrupted him, hugging his arm closer to your chest. You turned to the stranger with an apologetic smile. “It couldn’t be him. He only looks like a ruffian.” You said, and Sylus pulled an indignant face.

“Hmm,” The stranger tilted his head, studying Sylus with unnerving focus. “Your knight looks quite familiar though.”

“What is your name?” You asked, steering the conversation away before he could ask any more questions. 

“My name is–” 

The library doors burst open, making both you and the blonde stranger jump.

“Prince Xavier!” A voice echoed through the hall, frantic and desperate. 

You leaned over the railing to see a figure below. It was a knight you’d never seen before, dressed in foreign-looking white armour with silver accents. His brown curls were dishevelled, his chest heaving like he’d been running. 

“Can I help you?” You called down. 

The knight weaved between the desks then dropped to one knee.

“Forgive me, Your Highness!” He looked up, and you motioned for him to rise. “I’m looking for my Prince. Prince Xavier, of Philos.”

“Oh?” You glanced beside you. The blonde had ducked back into the cushioned nook, perfectly still, holding in his breath. He reminded you of a rabbit, for some unknown reason. “I’m sorry, there’s no Prince here. But I did see somebody leave this library not long ago.”

The knight straightened. “Thank you, My Lady! Please, excuse me.” 

You nodded, and he sprinted out of the library as fast as he had appeared. 

“Prince Xavier.” You turned to the blonde with a knowing smile. “It seems you owe me a favour.”

“Deal,” He emerged from the nook, his relief palpable. Then his eyes lit up with recognition. “Oh! I remember where I’ve seen your knight.”

“You do?” Your smile fell from your face.

“He trained with my swordplay master in Philos.” Xavier crossed his arms, a smug smile playing on his lips. “He stayed with us a whole year. Funny how I forgot.” 

“Hilarious,” Sylus drawled out dryly.

“Here’s another deal. Bring me a disguise, smuggle me into town, and I won’t tell anyone that you have a Prince for a knight.” 

Sylus’s hand drifted to his sword hilt. Xavier watched the movement but didn’t flinch. He only smiled at you, utterly unbothered.

You sat on a sofa, your fingers tapping nervously against your thighs. You had arranged a meeting with Prince Kaylen as promised, choosing to invite him to your conservatory that afternoon. You’d picked a comfortable, sunlit spot to settle into, hoping that it would ease your nerves. It didn’t. While a maid worked on setting the table and fluffing the cushions, you rehearsed what to say to the Prince. Now that you knew your knight’s true identity, your greatest worry was that Prince Kaylen would take him from you and drag him back home. You glanced at Sylus, standing dutifully by the door. Surely, he wouldn’t give up without a fight, would he? He didn’t spend this long living as a commoner and knight, just to leave when told to. 

And what if the older Prince was angry with you, despite what Sylus said? They were a proud family. You would understand if he took offence that you hadn’t recognised his brother. You could imagine what he would say.

How could you confuse a Prince of Qin with a mere commoner? Did you not try to verify his background at all? You were young, but how did your family not recognise him? 

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to prevent yourself from spiralling again. You’ll be fine, you told yourself. Skye… Sylus said you’re safe.

Normally, you would be fashionably late to a meeting, but this time your nerves had gotten the best of you. You were seated and ready before even the maids could wheel in their trolley. And before you knew it, a butler announced the Prince’s arrival. 

You shot up from your seat as Kaylen entered and welcomed him with a short curtsy. You weren’t used to paying anyone such respects, and you hated to admit it, but he frightened you. 

“It’s lovely to see you again,” Kaylen said as he bowed, and you let him kiss your hand just as he’d done the night before. “Shall we dispense with the formalities? I’d like us to be comfortable with each other.” He said with a smile once he straightened again, and you noticed that he seemed to be in a good mood. You decided to take that as a good sign. Sylus’s presence nearby also made you feel safer this time.

“Yes, of course.” You motioned for him to take a seat, though your voice was still somewhat stiff. As a maid fluttered around making his drink, you sat in awkward silence, observing him. 

“Your family certainly knows how to throw a celebration.” Kaylen settled into the cushioned sofa across from you, leaning back and crossing his legs. “I will need a week to recover.” 

“You may wish to visit the city tonight,” you suggested. “The common folk will continue to celebrate for the next three days.” He didn’t look any worse for wear. But he did seem much more relaxed than the night before, with his silver hair loose, spilling over his shoulders, contrasting against the deep red of his shirt. He looks like he owns the place, you thought to yourself.

“I will make sure I experience everything your kingdom has to offer,” he said, then turned to your maid as she poured him tea, thanking her. He was a lot more polite to your maid than you expected - smiling, addressing her directly. Unlike some noblemen, who wouldn’t even look at the help. “Could we have some privacy, please?” he asked her. She nodded without daring to look at him, then turned and hurried out of the room. You watched her go, waiting until Sylus closed the door after her. 

Prince Kaylen studied Sylus, eyebrows slightly raised with an expression that you could only describe as trying to keep a straight face. You had never felt so uncomfortable in your life. All the lines you had practised in your head suddenly vanished. You simply sat there, struggling to think of anything to say.

“What?” Sylus broke the silence, crossing his arms. 

“I can hardly believe it’s you,” Kaylen said flatly, blinking at him as if trying to dispel an illusion. “I’ve never seen you this obedient.”

Sylus rolled his eyes and relaxed his stance. “It’s become muscle memory.” He crossed over and sat down heavily beside you, the weight of his armour making the cushions sink.

“Who knew it only took a princess to teach you discipline,” Kaylen mused.

“My lady does crack the whip,” Sylus said, huffing as he tried to get comfortable, or as much as anyone could in plate armour. 

“As she should,” Kaylen nodded thoughtfully in approval.

You gasped and leaned forward, “I can assure you that he has not been punished once, or harmed in any way!” 

“That’s all well and good,” Kaylen sighed, and laced his fingers over his knee. “But has… Sir Sylus over here told you everything?”

“Yes, he did.” You answered immediately. “Last night.” The sudden change of tone felt like whiplash. He certainly wasn’t one to waste time.

“And has he told you what he must do now?” Kaylen added, his gaze flicking between the two of you.

“There’s nothing I must do,” Sylus rested his arm on the back of the couch, his gloved fingers brushing your shoulder. “Other than to serve my lady.” You had a sudden urge to pull his hand over your shoulder and wrap yourself into him - but you resisted, mentally kicking yourself for thinking silly things when you had company.

Kaylen scoffed, “You’ve run around playing a knight long enough. You have duties. Duties you must return to.”

“My vows are my only duty,” Sylus’s voice was calm, but you could feel the tension growing between them. You tried to think of something to say when Kaylen turned to you.

“Princess,” he said with a smile which didn’t reach his eyes, “Forgive me for being so blunt, but I’ve been tasked by our father to collect Sylus and bring him home. With or without you.”

“What does this mean?” Your stomach dropped at his words. Just as you’d feared, he was here to take Sylus away from you. 

Sylus placed his free hand on top of yours, “I’m not going anywhere without you.” 

You turned your hand and laced your fingers with his. “But what will we do?” Your voice came out smaller than you intended. “Once my parents find out that you’ve deceived them, they’ll never allow this.” Although deep down you understood that he couldn’t pretend forever, you still blamed his brother for doing this to you. 

Kaylen waved a hand as if the matter was already resolved. “It’s easy. We’ll tell them you’re already lovers, and they’ll be forced to let you marry.”

You gasped, “Absolutely not! That will only anger them more!” You slumped back in your seat, defeated

“My love…” Sylus lifted your hand and pressed it to his lips, giving your knuckles a gentle kiss. “Would you come with me to Onychinus for a while?”

“A long while,” Kaylen corrected, and Sylus shot him a glare, then waited for you to answer. 

“Of course!” The words tumbled out before you could stop them. Your cheeks heated up as you became conscious of your audience. “I mean - yes. I would.”

“Then, brother,” your knight’s face grew serious as he turned to Kaylen. “Give us some time to do this properly.”

The older Prince swirled his teacup, his gaze flickering between the two of you. He looked thoughtful, as if he was evaluating you both. You wondered if he purposely kept you in suspense. 

“Alright. Gods help me…” He sighed heavily. He finally nodded, and you realised you’d been holding your breath. “You managed to get this far. Do what you will.” 

You opened your mouth to thank him, but the stern look he gave you made you hesitate. “But remember,” he said. “I can’t stay here forever. You have until I’ve finished all my business here. By then, you two,” he motioned at both of you, teacup still in his hand, “had better sorted yourselves out. Or we’ll do it my way.”

“Y-yes, we will!” You answered hastily, feeling like a student being scolded by her tutor. Sylus squeezed your hand in reassurance. 

“I’ll make sure of it,” Sylus declared, voice full of confidence. 

“Wonderful.” Kaylen’s smile returned to his face, and he took a sip from his cup. “Wonderful.”

You didn’t know whether to feel relieved or terrified, now that you had a task to do. Up until this point, you avoided thinking about the future, and the what-if’s. You had always known it would be impossible to have any sort of future with your knight, other than remaining as secret lovers. But he wasn’t Sir Skye anymore; he wasn’t a commoner-turned-knight. He was Prince Sylus, from a powerful kingdom. Far more powerful than your own. And they depended on your fertile land as much as you depended on their wealth. 

We really are a good match, you mused to yourself. Kaylen must have thought the same if he’d been in your brother’s ear about it. Then another thought struck you. 

“Prince Kaylen, may I ask…” You drew his attention. “Was there a reason you allowed Sylus to sneak in here? Did you plan this together?” 

Kaylen shook his head, “No. Nobody knew, until a servant found a note in his room one morning. And he was already gone.” 

“What did it say?” You imagined Sylus staying up late at night, writing a passionate declaration about following his heart and doing everything in his power to retrieve his love.

“I’ve gone to get my Princess,” Sylus answered plainly. 

You stared at him, “That’s all? How unromantic!”

“That’s all they needed to know.” He shrugged.

“And you just… let him go?” You turned to his brother. 

“Father wanted to send an army after him,” Kaylen poked idly at the biscuits spread on the table. “But I reckoned… let him get it out of his system. He’d either get bored with sleeping in inns and hovels and come back, or he’ll actually get his Princess. If he did, it would make for a good reminder to all that we always get what we want.”

“That makes perfect sense.” Sylus agreed, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Good thinking.”

“It does?!” You whipped your head to look at him. “How does any of this make sense?”

“Do not worry, my love,” Sylus placed a hand over the swell of his breastplate with theatrical pride. “I will ensure that all bards north of the border sing about our story.” 

“Of course. We will spread the word.” Kaylen agreed readily.

That’s not what worried you at all. You wanted to grab Sylus by his shoulders and shake him. Or his brother, for that matter. They were as bad as each other, eccentric even for royalty’s standards. I could grab one and slap the other, you thought, but refrained from saying it.

“And if it’s romance you want,” Sylus leaned in closer, voice dropping. “I will write you a thousand letters.” 

“That will not be necessary…” You looked away, feeling your cheeks burn. Even though you were used to his direct nature, it still caught you off guard. And despite his confidence, you still felt uncertain. You had no clue what to do or where to start. 

“My family expects you to arrive from Lemuria any day now,” you steered the conversation back to the problem at hand. “How can we ever introduce you to them without them finding out you’re my knight?” 

You heard Kaylen sigh and watched him pinch the bridge of his nose. “I had hoped he’d keep a low profile. That way I could introduce him, and with a famed missing Prince arriving, nobody would pay any mind to some knight disappearing.” 

“And the entire palace knows your face,” you added, dejected. You didn’t want to admit it in front of Kaylen, but you felt hopeless.

“Let’s take things one step at a time,” Sylus said, giving you a reassuring smile. “Our first order of business is to repair my image. Half the continent thinks I’ve run off with his wife.” He pointed at his brother with his thumb, making Kaylen choke on his tea. 

“And whose fault is this?” Kaylen managed between coughs.

Sylus shrugged, “I only ever encouraged rumours about my demise. But I must admit…” He exhaled heavily and brushed his hair back. “It’s not ideal to have her family think I’m pursuing other women.”

“Some think you went to Lemuria to chase women, too.” You pouted at him. 

“Then we shall start with that,” Sylus declared. “We will maintain the story that I’ve been in Lemuria. Some of your Lemurian guests can be convinced to mention me, and my good behaviour.” He looked pleased with his idea, and Kaylen hummed in approval.

“I noticed that a Lemurian fellow was entertaining Lady Madeleine last night,” Kaylen said. “Perhaps she could whisper a few words to him.”

You perked up at the suggestion, finally finding a thread of hope. “Whispering is what she does best! I believe that her companion was an important councillor’s son; I’m sure he would be very happy if Prince Sylus owed him a favour.” 

“Wonderful.” Sylus nodded, as if he was offering a few copper coins rather than a royal favour. It surprised you how princely he looked in that moment. “She may promise him anything he pleases.” 

“She could convince her friend to casually mention that he met Prince Sylus in Lemuria and saw firsthand how virtuous he was!” You clasped your hands, feeling excitement bubble in your chest. Maddie loved intrigue, and you were certain that she would be more than willing to take part in this.

“Have him say I was there to study the arts,” Sylus suggested. “Like singing.”

“Yes, of course,” you gasped as an idea came to you. “You studied the famous Lemurian opera!”

Kaylen cleared his throat, “That may be too far now. His singing could be seen as an act of war.”

“No, I like this.” Sylus nodded, satisfied with the plan. “And, of course, my dear brother will dispel any rumours that I’m having an affair with his wife.”

Sylus’s words made you pause. “Prince Kaylen, may I ask why you travelled here alone?”

“My lady wife is with child.” He answered, plain and simple. “And I would not have her rattle around in a carriage for days, just to collect my rebellious brother.” 

“Ah, that’s wonderful news!” It was the most logical explanation, and yet somehow it hadn’t crossed your mind. Likely because you were too anxious about Sylus… both as your knight, and the unknown Prince. You felt like, at every turn, the answer was right in front of you. 

“Which is why we need to wrap this up quickly,” Kaylen said, making you wince. You nearly forgot that he could lose his patience and turn on you at any moment.

“Yes, yes,” Sylus waved lazily, as if Kaylen’s nagging were nothing but a nuisance. You wished you had his confidence. 

“I have already made a start on this, anyhow.” Kaylen brushed a strand of hair away from his face. “I’ve already shared the good news with both Prince Caine and Prince Sebastian.” 

“And I will have Luke and Kieran spread more favourable rumours among the servants and townsfolk,” Sylus added. “They can lay the groundwork for us.” You had met Luke, but had never heard of Kieran before. Another henchman that he brought from the north, you thought.

“We need an explanation as to why you’re so late to arrive. Perhaps you were attacked…” You bit your thumb in thought. “Or you did something heroic!” 

“Pirates have been plaguing the seas…” Sylus rubbed his chin, considering your suggestion. “I will have the twins come up with something impressive but plausible.” 

Twins. Of course, they were twins. That explained Luke’s confusing behaviour and the conflicting reports.

“I take it that Luke isn’t a beekeeper, then.” You crossed your arms and narrowed your eyes at Sylus. He laughed, and Kaylen looked amused.

“Luke and Kieran are noblemen from Onychinus,” Sylus explained. “They grew up in our castle as wards.”

“Both of them?” You asked. It was unusual to take two children as wards.

“Their family opposed our father’s reign, and were killed in the struggle," Kaylen chimed in. His voice was matter-of-fact, but you caught the shadow that passed over his face. “Their lands and property were seized - in the crown’s safe-keeping, of course. We thought all were dead, until their mother was discovered in a mining village along with her two small children. She begged our father to spare them, as they had no part in her father’s schemes. The king took them in and declared that their titles would be restored if they could prove their loyalty.” 

You gulped. It was well known that King Aylus’s rise to power had been bloody, but it always seemed like stories from far away. Just tales of the past. You wondered if Sylus would be willing to tell you more, in the privacy of your room. 

“So they grew up around us,” Sylus concluded. “And imprinted on me, for some reason.”

“Like two ducklings following their mother,” Kaylen teased, and Sylus rolled his eyes. 

“They’ve proven to be loyal,” Sylus admitted. “I would not have you in my arms without them.”

“I understand why Luke declined knighthood.” You mused. “He can’t pledge loyalty to someone else, even if it’s for show.” You were beginning to understand the reason behind all the lies and stories, but you still couldn’t let go of being lied to. You didn’t like being made a fool.

You continued your conversation, flowing more easily now, until Kaylen finally rose from his seat and announced that he must depart. 

“We must do this again.” He smoothed the front of his tunic. “I will expect good news from you soon. Or call on me if you need me to intervene.” 

“Thank you for trusting us, Prince Kaylen!” You said, hoping that your anxiety didn’t show in your voice. 

He nodded at you with a smile, then turned to Sylus. They stared at each other for an awkward moment, as if they didn’t know what to say. Then Kaylen approached Sylus and placed his hand on his pauldron, giving it a firm pat. 

“Please, do hurry. Mephisto is becoming unbearable.” His voice dropped, and a small frown crossed his face, eerily similar to Sylus’s own. “He has pecked everyone in sight. If you don’t return soon, I fear Father may make a stew out of him.” 

You burst through the doors back into the lively ballroom and stood there panting, your mind racing as you tried to comprehend the scene you had just witnessed. The guests around you were a blur of dancing, laughing, drinking and dining, and none of them took note of you or your state. You felt flustered and overwhelmed, caught in a silent panic as the world around you carried on as if nothing had happened. 

You took a deep, steadying breath. You knew you had to get the truth out of Skye, but you couldn’t afford to make a scene in the middle of a wedding. Or be the reason for any more rumours. You had to carry on until you were in the safety of your own bedroom.

You mentally shook off your thoughts and weaved through the crowd in search of a distraction. Maybe Maddie will help, you thought, if I can peel her off that Lemurian. As you scanned the room, your gaze landed on your brother Caine. He stood by a dessert table, piling pastries onto a plate. When he felt your stare, he looked up and met your gaze, his big, brown eyes wide as if he’d been caught thieving. You decided he would be your safe haven for the moment and made your way to him. 

When you reached your brother, you looped your arm through his. “What’s this?” You asked with a sly smile. “The Crown Prince, serving himself?”

He cleared his throat. “Serving my lady wife, of course.”

“Of course,” you echoed, and he side-eyed you, making you giggle. 

“Are you having a good time?” He placed his plate down and turned his full attention to you. “I hope you haven’t been pestered too much tonight.” He looked down at you, his eyes soft with concern. 

“Not as much as you’d think.” You waved a hand, dismissing his concern. “My guard did a fine job scaring away most men, it seems.”

“Ah…” Caine glanced around. “And where is your guard? He seems to be miss–”

“He’s around!” You interrupted, hugging his arm, making him look at you. “I sent him to fetch me something.” You didn’t want anyone else asking questions about your knight yet. You still hadn’t come to grips with his behaviour yourself.

“I see.” He paused, hesitating, as if weighing whether to speak. “Has any suitor caught your eye tonight?” He managed eventually, looking uncharacteristically sheepish.

You raised your eyebrows at him. Would it matter? you were tempted to ask. 

“They’ve been terribly dull,” you answered, though you’d only danced with two men. “Or married.”

Caine gave you a tight smile as he patted your hand on his arm, “I’m sorry to say, but that is usually the case. Princes can be very dull.” He leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper, “Especially if their family tree is a wreath.”

His comment startled a laugh out of you, loud and bright, cutting through the music. A few people turned around to see what the Princess was laughing at.

“They’re not all dull.” You poked his chest lightly. “I’ve heard that you made a very interesting friend lately.”

“I have?” He raised his eyebrows in confusion.

“Prince Kaylen,” you clarified. “It seems you’ve gotten quite close.”

“Ah yes,” he perked up. “He would be a valuable ally. And we agree on many matters.”

“Matters such as…” You prompted. “Trade? Politics? A certain border?” You carried on as your brother nodded along. 

“...Marriage?” You questioned him, giving him a pointed look. Despite being a head taller, your brother seemed to shrink under your gaze. 

“Well.” He smiled nervously. “That’s not up to me to decide.”

“But he has brought it up?” You pressed, suddenly worried that this silver-haired devil had been playing your brother all along.

“Briefly,” your brother admitted. “But you know that I wouldn’t let anyone force you into a marriage.”

Caine had always doted on you more than anyone in your family. You wondered if he would take your side if your relationship with your guard was ever exposed. “What if I took a liking to someone else tonight? And went against his schemes.” 

He looked down at you with a gentle expression. “You know you will always have my support.”

“Even if my choice stirs up trouble?” You looked up at your brother with the biggest, most pleading doe eyes you could muster. 

Your brother sighed and gave you a resigned smile, “As long as you’re happy. You know I could never say no to you.” 

You beamed at him, hugging his arm tight. “I’ll hold you to that!” You declared with a laugh, and he patted your hand again. You wondered if Caine already had an inkling about who you were referring to. Or if he would still keep his promise if he discovered what you’ve done. But you were too afraid to ask.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted that Sir Skye had quietly returned to your side, and now stood a short distance away. His helmet was back on his head, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Seeing him again made your heart lurch. Standing there, calm and proper, as if he hadn’t just turned your world upside down.

“Shall we try these peach tarts, then?” Your brother abruptly changed the topic, clearly ready to dig into his desserts. You wanted to join him at his table, but your stomach was twisted in knots.

“I feel quite tired, actually.” You released his arm. “I may just give Sebastian my well-wishes and retire to my room.” 

You weren’t lying. The day had been long, and your encounters with Prince Kaylen only made it more draining.

“Hm?” Caine made a noise, already biting into a pastry. “The bride and groom have already abandoned the ball.”

“They’re that eager to start their new life together?” You raised an eyebrow, amused. 

Your brother nodded, then spoke again once he’d swallowed his food. “They sure are. They’ll want to spend every second together, while they can.”

“You sound like they don’t have a lot of time together?” You asked, confused.

Caine gave you a tight, thin smile. “We may have to go south again. I’ve heard reports that there’s trouble brewing. Someone is attacking merchants along the trade routes.”

The news came as a shock to you.

“But I thought you resolved everything? The king agreed to your terms, and…” you trailed off. Your brother brushed a hand through his hair. 

“Well, officially, yes. But I believe that they’re covertly trying to undermine us. And if we can’t deal with it from afar, we’ll have to travel south again.”

“And Sebby has to go too? But he’s only just gotten married! What about their honeymoon?” You fired off questions. You didn't want to see any of your brothers leave again, and you felt especially terrible for Sebastian.

“Distance makes the heart grow fonder and all that.” Caine shrugged, taking another bite of something sweet.

You gaped at him, “And we even celebrated! You can’t take Sir Skye this time around - he’s mine now! Sebby will have to grow fonder on his own.” You crossed your arms. 

Caine chuckled at your defiant attitude. “You need your protection regardless,” he said with confidence. “Just like Sir Godwyn stayed with you, so will Sir Skye.” It made you feel better knowing that you wouldn’t be left all alone this time.

Once your brother wished you goodnight and went to find his princess, you stood in awkward silence, staring at the cakes spread out in front of you. Your mind churned considering what to say to Skye. You could feel his presence and gaze on you without needing to look.

You turned to him briefly. “I’m tired,” you stated, more abruptly than you had intended. “I’m going to bed.” 

“Yes, My Lady.” He answered, his voice coming through his helmet. You were glad that you couldn’t see much of his face.

You took off to your room, Sir Skye following close behind you as usual. You walked through the halls and stairs in silence, the noises of the ball growing quiet.

“Do you feel better now?” You asked eventually, staring straight ahead as you walked.

“Yes, My Lady,” Skye answered behind you. “I apologise for worrying you.”

“That’s all?” You chewed on the inside of your lip, your jaw tense with suppressed anger.

“Yes, My Lady.” His voice was smooth, practiced, which made you roll your eyes. You’re so used to lying, aren’t you? You thought, pursing your lips, silently seething with clenched fists. I ought to send him away with Sebastian. And tell him not to return until he learns how to tell the truth. 

When you reached your bedroom, Skye opened your door and waited for you to enter. You took one step into your room, then stopped in your tracks. You looked at him over your shoulder and hesitated. You wanted to go in, lock yourself in your room and ignore him completely. But another part of you worried that if you waited any longer, you wouldn’t have the courage to confront him. 

You turned, grabbed Skye’s wrist, and pulled him into your room. He quickly closed the door and turned the lock. Then he reached up and took his helmet off, letting it clatter on the wooden floor. 

He smiled, and reached out to hold you, leaning in for a kiss. But before his lips could meet yours, you placed your hand flat over his mouth, stopping him cold. His eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t move any further.

“I’m going to ask you a question,” you said, voice low and trembling. “And I want you to tell me the truth.” 

He nodded behind your hand. You lowered your arm and stepped away from him, putting distance between you. Your heart was hammering in your chest. You expected him to lie or dodge your question again, but you told yourself not tonight. You planned to get the truth out of him.

“What does Prince Kaylen want from you?” Your words came out steadier than you expected.

At first, he stood still, then relaxed. 

“What would a Prince want with me?” He retorted with a casual tone and a cheeky smile on his face. As if you were speaking nonsense. It made you want to scream. You clenched your fists again, your nails digging into your palms. 

“You tell me!” You spat out. “And while you’re at it…”

You turned sharply and marched to your desk, yanking open the drawer and rummaging through the contents roughly until you found the sketch. You stomped back to him and slapped the paper against his breastplate. “Explain this.”

He took the torn page, his eyes scanning it until he reached the bottom, then he snorted. You watched him expectantly. “Well?!” You were losing patience with him.

“My cheeks were not that chubby,” he said as if he still wasn’t taking the matter seriously.

You looked at him utterly bewildered. “Explain yourself right now”, your voice continued to rise with each word. “Or I’ll call the guards! Who are you? What does this Kaylen want from you?”

Skye’s face turned serious, and he let out a long sigh as he brushed his fingers through his silver hair. 

“He’s my brother.”

You stared at him, waiting for the punchline. “Half-brother, surely.” You clung to the last shred of hope, but it was starting to seem increasingly unlikely.

He shook his head slowly. “Just a brother.”

Your throat went dry. “I’ve never heard of a Prince Skye. What’s your name?”

He looked at the sketch, then back to you, as if it was obvious. “Sylus.”

You took a shaky breath and stumbled backwards into your desk. Sylus. That Sylus. The one you’d heard all those stories about. He was with you all along. Playing in the gardens. Carrying books for you. Holding you in your bed.

You suddenly felt dizzy. “Sy-… A Prince. No, no, it can’t be.” Your breath grew ragged and uneven, coming faster as you rambled. “We made a Prince into a… a royal guard. We made you swear oaths. Oh Gods, what have we done?!” 

You placed your hand on your chest, your words tumbling out of your lips. “When they find out, oh Gods, when they find out. They’ll-they’ll kill us all!”

He approached you carefully and placed his hands on your shoulders. “They won’t do anything to you. Nobody will hurt you.” 

“N-no!” You shrugged his hands off you, panic flooding through you. How could he stand there so calm? Even your parents wouldn’t dream of offending such powerful rulers in this way. Surely there’s some law against this. “You don’t understand! When they find out that… that we treated their Prince like a commoner! Ordered you around!” You waved your hands helplessly. “Made you swear oaths and kneel! Oh, but they do know! He saw you!” You covered your nose and mouth with your hands. “You fought for us, what if you’d been injured?” Your voice came muffled behind your hands.

“My love—” he started but you cut him off. 

“What if you died in battle?!” Your voice rose to a near-shriek. “Oh, we’re all dead. Our heads will be on spikes. Solen is done for, we’re all done for!”

“Please,” Sylus approached you again, as steady and calm as he could. 

“Our little kingdom…” You gasped for breath at every word, as if you were drowning. “We can’t— we can’t defend ourselves!”

“Listen. Try to breathe with me. You’re safe. You will be safe.” He pulled you close and this time you didn’t push him away. He breathed in, deep and slow, and then out. You followed his lead. In. Out. In. Out. You took deep breaths with him until the hammering of your heart began to calm and your trembling slowed. You placed your hands on his breastplate and curled your fingers into fists, your nails scraping on the steel.

“How would you know I’m safe?” You muttered, staring down at your hands. 

“My family knew from the start,” he answered, his voice equally hushed. “I did what I did on my own accord.”

You looked up at him, fighting back tears. “Tell me everything. Why… how are you here?”

He smiled down at you, soft and a little sad. “I will. But I must warn you. It is rather ridiculous.”

“More ridiculous than stealing your brother’s wife, or falling into a lake?” You narrowed your eyes at him.

Sylus huffed a short laugh, “A great deal more.” 

A little calmer, but still shaky, you moved away from him to sit on your lounger, but stopped when you noticed that he wasn’t following. You took his hand and led him to sit with you. Then you waited, hoping that he would be truthful this time, like he promised.

“I came to Solen with my parents four years ago, to attend Prince Caine’s wedding.” He started explaining, staring down at his hands in his lap. “I knew there was a Princess here. We all knew she was sickly and frail, and that the King and Queen were fiercely protective of her.”

You huffed without thinking, and he smiled a little at your reaction. 

“It made me curious, I wanted to see what was wrong with you. So I started sneaking around, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. Then one day, I saw you in one of your gardens, playing some game with your red-haired maid.” He paused, looking thoughtful. “You didn’t seem sickly at all. I wanted to try speaking to you, but your guard was looming behind you.” 

“I followed you and watched you for the rest of our stay. Each time you were doing something different with Miss Erin. Then one evening, I managed to track you to the servants’ quarters. I heard your voice, it was so angry.” He smiled, like he was retelling a fond memory. “Just like now. I peeked through the cracked doors and saw several servants lined up to one side. They looked ashamed. Then your little maid, standing next to you, looking filthy and pitiful.” 

You covered your face with your hands, your face growing hot at the memory. You felt mortified that he had seen you at such an undignified moment. “I can’t believe you witnessed that, of all things…”

“Hmm.” He reached up and gently pulled your hands away. “You were adorable. The way you scolded them. What did you say? Do I look like a horse to you?” He attempted to mimic your voice. “Shall I line up with the horses, so she can braid my hair after mucking the stables?!”

You squirmed in your seat. “They were tormenting Erin,” you mumbled, pouting.  “They kept sending her away from me, making her do dirty jobs. To punish her for being my favourite.”  You felt indignant all over again.

“I know,” he said softly, lifting your chin with a finger, to make you meet his eyes. “I could tell. Seeing the little Princess so fiery, showing her claws. It fascinated me.” 

“That’s what fascinated you?” You stared at him, wide-eyed. “Acting snotty and insolent with my servants? You really are ridiculous.”

“Would Miss Erin think of it that way?”

“I suppose not.” You conceded. “And what then?” 

“I decided I would marry you,” he answered matter-of-factly, as if it were the most obvious conclusion in the world. “And begged my parents to offer marriage.”

You still couldn’t make sense of his story, but pressed on regardless. 

“And?” You leaned forward.

“And yours refused. Then we asked again. They refused again.” He listed off reasons on his fingers. “The cold north would not be good for your health. My father said I would live here. They said you were too young for marriage arrangements. We offered gold, treasures, territory, Onychinus steel - nothing swayed them.” You pulled a pained face, suppressing the urge to defend your family’s actions. You realised that was what his brother must have been referring to, when he said that your family hadn’t been easy to impress.

“Eventually we had to return home,” he continued. “I begged them to try again, and my father sent letters only to be refused again.”

“My family never told me any of this,” you said, taking one of his gloved hands in yours. You figured that they didn’t want to give you any ideas, and you wondered what they would think now, that the same persistent Prince had been under their roof all along.

“Eventually, my father said it was no use. That if I wanted to get married that badly, they would find me another Princess. But I had already made up my mind. So I stewed on it for a while, until I couldn’t take it anymore. One night I left a note in my bedroom. I gathered a few trusted knights and friends, and left.” 

You stared at him. “Just like that?”

His confident smile returned to his face, suddenly strikingly identical to his old portrait. “Just like that.”

You struggled to comprehend how this was possible. “Did nobody try to stop you? Chase after you?”

He shrugged, as if it was none of his concern what his family thought or did. You sat back, trying to make sense of everything he’d just told you, when a thought suddenly dawned on you.

You gasped. “Did you get close to my brothers just to get to me?! Was the mercenary story a lie, too?”

For a split second, he looked embarrassed, then he reached over and played with a loose strand of your hair. “I didn’t intend to. But on our travels, while staying at an inn, we heard the news about your brothers travelling down south to defend your border.” He looked thoughtful, as he twirled your hair between his fingers. “We talked that night, and decided to join as mercenaries.”

“What about the stories of your mercenary days?”

He paused at your question. “We did get sidetracked on our way...”

You raised an eyebrow, “My brothers were fighting a war and you went off on side quests?”

He laughed, “We had to build a reputation after all! I couldn’t be completely unknown if I wanted your brothers to take note of me.”

“I suppose so,” you mumbled, though you weren’t really angry with him. Not about this, at least. “I can’t believe I worried about you so much!” You slapped his breastplate in anger, and he caught your hand, lifting it to his lips for a kiss. “I thought Kaylen was out to hurt you, and you were on some jolly adventure the entire time!”

“I’m sorry for deceiving you,” his voice was muffled against your hand, and he couldn’t help but find your anger endearing.

You pulled your hand away and crossed your arms, looking away with a pout. “I can’t believe you seduced me under false pretences!”

“I did no such thing,” he said, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you onto his lap. You didn’t fight him. “It was you who seduced me,” he teased.

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, a smile tugging at your lips despite your frustration. “That’s not how I remember it. A Princess does not seduce like a common strumpet.”

“Yes, yes.” He cupped your cheek, gently turning your face towards his. “Whatever you say.”

He looked up, meeting your gaze. He looked serious then, an unusually vulnerable look in his eyes. “I mean it. I am sorry for deceiving you. Please forgive me.”

You sighed, wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your forehead against his. “I don’t know, this is all so…” you trailed off. 

“Didn’t you say you would love me no matter if I’m a commoner or not?” His words were hushed, a hint of nervousness in his voice. His arms tightened around you, as if he were afraid you might run.

“Yes, but…” You nibbled your lip. When you promised this, you assumed he was some distant relative to the rulers of Onychinus, and at worst - a commoner. Either of those would have been less complicated than his real station. 

And you still had more questions, but you were already overwhelmed by these revelations. There was only one thing that you needed to know at that moment. “What do we do now?” You whispered.

“Have faith in me,” he begged and pressed his forehead harder against yours. “I promised that I would find a way.”

He doesn’t know either, you thought. The truth that you hoped would solve everything only left you with more questions and uncertainty. You nodded, small and hesitant. Slowly, tentatively he reached up to kiss you. When you didn’t push him away, his lips met yours. It was soft and gentle, as if it were a first kiss all over again.

Once you finally parted, you felt his arms move behind you. His gloves hit the floor, then his bare hands were on you again. His touch and his face were full of tenderness. He held you closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Skye… no, Sylus…” You corrected yourself, and before you could say anything more, you felt a heavy sigh tickle your skin. 

“Say that again.” His voice was muffled, almost trembling.

“Sylus,” you repeated. The name felt foreign on your tongue. The realisation that you’d been calling him the wrong name all this time felt strange. Hearing his name made Sylus tense and his arms tightened around you.

A quiet groan escaped him against your skin. 

“I have waited so long.” His voice was low and raw with emotion you’d never heard before. “To hear you call my name.” His hands roamed down your back and settled on your waist. “I want to hear it more.”

You tangled your fingers in his soft silver hair and gently pulled his head back to look at his face. His crimson eyes were half-lidded, heavy with something that seemed almost intoxicated, though he had drunk no wine at the banquet. Oh… he’s been pining for years. You wanted to see more.

“Then make me say it more,” you whispered. “Sylus.”

The last few days before the wedding had passed in a flash. You were up at dawn each morning and collapsed into bed exhausted every night. From dress fittings and last-minute alterations to ceremony rehearsals, everything had to be perfect. 

On the day of the wedding, you were up at the crack of dawn again. Erin, along with several more maids, dragged you out of bed and into a steaming bath scented with oils, then pushed and pulled you like a rag doll until your dress draped perfectly and your hair was pinned up just right. By the time the maids were adding the final touches to your makeup and carefully fastening your jewellery, you already felt drained and ready to crawl back between your sheets. It would be even better, you thought, if you could pull your knight in with you and cling to him like a warm pillow.

You sat in front of your mirror, watching them work, when a soft knock came to your door. 

One of the butlers entered, looking apologetic. 

“My lady,” he said, bowing, “I have news about the man you asked us to watch.” 

You straightened, ignoring Erin’s soft protest as she tried to finish pinning your hair. “Go on.”

“According to a report, he was seen in the markets yesterday afternoon. Trading with the shopkeepers and stallholders,” the butler explained. 

Your brow furrowed. That couldn’t be right. The evening before, a guard had approached you and told you that Luke was seen sneaking around the apartments where Prince Kaylen was staying. The news had made your stomach clench, but had also confirmed your suspicions that there was something about Luke that Skye wasn’t telling you. So how could he be in two places at once?

“And you’re certain this is the right man?” You asked, dubious.

“Yes, my lady,” your butler nodded firmly. “Young man from Onychinus. Well dressed, and red shoulder-length hair.”

You hummed as Erin worked on your hair. The description was correct, but something about this story didn’t sound right.

“And I must add, my Lady,” the butler continued, “at the end of the day, he was seen entering a townhouse. In the Rose District.” 

You turned sharply to look at him properly, Erin’s hands falling away from your hair. “How can he afford a house in the Rose District?” You asked, incredulous. “Whose house is it?”

The butler hesitated for a moment. “Rumours say that a northern Lord purchased it as a vacation home some months ago.”

“Which Lord? Which family?” You demanded.

“I apologise, my lady. I do not know.” Seeing your dejected expression, he paused, then added, “There’s more.”

“Yes?” You perked up.

“There were no bees,” he declared.

You blinked. “Pardon?” You thought you hadn’t heard him right.

“You said he was a beekeeper, my lady,” the butler clarified, “there were no bees.”

“I…” you gaped at him. “Of course there were no bees. It was obviously a lie from the start!” You scoffed and turned back toward your mirror. It was such a terrible lie. A joke, even. You just weren’t sure whether it was at your expense or Luke’s. 

You pursed your lips, then met your butler’s eyes in the mirror. “I’m sorry, it’s not you that I’m frustrated with. Thank you for the information,” you sighed, taking a pouch of coins out of your drawers. “For your troubles.” 

The butler accepted the coins with a bow, thanked you, and excused himself. 

Before you knew it, you were ushered out the door yourself and hurried into your carriage. As soon as Sir Skye climbed in after you, the door slammed shut, and the carriage took off. It wasn’t even noon, and yet you felt like you’d been tossed around enough times to last you a lifetime. And you weren’t even the bride. You felt sorry for whatever she must be going through.

You relaxed into your seat as the carriage moved slowly through the capital, its iron-rimmed wheels clattering over the cobbled path. Even before the wedding had officially begun, the common folk had started their celebration. Music seemed to drift from every direction, bells ringing out across the city, and from what you could glimpse through your window, wine flowed freely while street food vendors claimed every courtyard and every free corner of the streets. Your brother Sebastian rode in a carriage ahead, leading the procession towards the city’s largest temple, where he would meet his fiancée and ascend the steps together. 

You thought again about the butler’s words as your carriage rattled through the city. How could one man be everywhere all at once? And how could he afford a house in the most expensive district of the city? It worried you that he might have been seen at Prince Kaylen’s lodgings as well. 

Prince Kaylen troubled you in general. When you’d asked Skye if he had met him, he denied it, as you’d expected. The younger Prince Sylus also made you anxious. You’d heard no news of his arrival, and you feared that he would make a dramatic entrance today and cause some spectacle, ruining the celebration. 

All you had to do was get through the day. Then, once the wedding was over, the guests would start making their way home again. Provided he had no other business at your home, Prince Kaylen should be on his way soon as well. Or so you hoped.

You looked over at Skye, sitting across from you. He gazed out of the window, one hand on his helmet beside him, his fingers tapping it lazily. 

When he felt your stare, his eyes flickered to yours. “Enjoying the view, my lady?” 

“Yes,” you matched his tone. “While I still can.” 

His eyebrow arched.

“Remember,” you instructed, your voice turning serious, “you must keep your helmet on at all times. You can’t take it off unless we’re in private. We all have to be in proper attire today, including the guards.”

He placed a finger over his lips, humming, as if deep in thought. “If I didn’t know any better,” he said slowly, "I would think that my lady is trying to hide my face.”

His words made you freeze - that’s exactly what you were trying to do. You had twisted and turned the night before, trying to come up with an excuse to hide him away on the big day. Until you came to the obvious solution: make him wear his helmet and do your best to avoid any unnecessary attention. 

His eyes narrowed slightly at your silence. 

“Does my lady think her guard is too unsightly to show to her friends?”

“On the contrary,” you playfully tapped his armoured leg with your foot, “I worry that you’re so handsome that some other lady might try to steal you away. I don’t want to be forced to drag someone by the wig.”

Your compliment caught him by surprise, and he laughed, just as the carriage came to a stop. “We wouldn’t want to make a scene,” he said, settling his helmet over his head.

He opened the carriage door and hopped down, then extended a hand to help you climb out. You stepped out of the carriage and briefly took in the scene. The steps up to the entrance of the city’s largest temple were decorated with banners, flowers and wreaths, and the Sun Guard were lined on each side, holding back the gathered crowd. 

Holding your skirt, you climbed the steps, smiling and waving to the crowd, your knight following close behind you. 

The rest of the day felt both long and arduous, and like it went in a instant. 

The ceremony was grand and long, but after numerous rehearsals, everything went smoothly. A careful selection of guests was present inside the temple, while the rest of your guests would attend your banquet later at the palace. You went through the motions absent-mindedly - standing where you should, sitting, standing again, stepping aside, holding and passing things. As you listened to the bride and groom recite their vows, your mind drifted to Skye and how much you missed your stolen moments. 

After the ceremony, Sebastian and Lady Celia emerged first out of the temple and waved at the crowd as they descended the steps to their carriage. You listened to the cheering crowds, eagerly waiting for your turn to exit with everyone else and be done with the ceremonies.

When you finally collapsed into your carriage, you kicked off your shoes and sank into the padded seat. Skye sat beside you and removed his helmet with a long, relieved sigh. Outside, the crowd still chanted for the happy couple, and for a moment, you imagined that it was you walking down those steps. It made your heart clench. You didn’t imagine you’d receive many cheers if you announced you were marrying your guard. Laughs and randy songs were all that would come from it.

“Are you feeling unwell, my lovely?” Skye’s voice interrupted your thoughts. You turned and found him watching you with concern in his crimson eyes.

“Oh…” You offered him a small smile as you took his gloved hand, weaving your fingers through his. “I’m just tired.” 

He didn’t seem convinced, but knowing that it had been a long, stressful day, he didn’t press any further. He held your hand and pulled you to rest your head on his shoulder, careful not to mess up your hair.

Once you entered the banquet hall, a second wind swept through you. The scents coming from the food and wine certainly helped. You took in the sights and thought to yourself that the palace cooks had somehow managed to outdo themselves. You found platters piled with every delicacy imagined. Roasted meats and entire stuffed birds, meat pies, wheels of cheese, pots of honey and jams, as well as freshly baked breads, pastries, and cakes, were only some of the foods you noted. Meanwhile, butlers wove through the crowd, offering wine glasses to anyone with empty hands. You quickly found your cousin Madeleine and pulled her towards the banquet tables. 

Her company kept you entertained, and Sir Skye’s imposing presence behind you dissuaded any man who might have considered meandering in your direction. You drifted along the tables together, examining the platters and sampling various foods. You were in the middle of dipping a cheese parcel into some blueberry compote while Maddie shared the latest gossip about some of your guests, when a voice interrupted your conversation.

“Excuse me, Your Highness.” 

The deep voice made you turn. A man stood before you - tall and broad-shouldered, with pale skin and dark, almost black eyes that seemed to swallow the candlelight. His long, silver-grey hair was elegantly pulled back, and despite his size, he looked graceful in his suit. 

“I don’t believe we’ve met.” He bowed, shallow. “My name is Kaylen of Onychinus.” 

Maddie gasped and dropped into a quick curtsy. After a short moment, you followed suit. You didn’t want to admit it, but his presence made your blood run cold, making you freeze, before your court instincts kicked in.

“Good evening, Lady Madeleine,” he greeted her. She said something back, but all you could focus on was keeping your face calm, your breathing steady, and your hands from trembling.

“Pleasure to meet you, Prince Kaylen,” you finally managed. 

“Would you honour me with a dance?” He extended his hand with a confident smile.

Behind you, Sir Skye shifted and took a breath to say something, but you raised your hand, cutting him off. “It’s fine. I would love a dance. Thank you.” 

Skye stood back, resuming his usual stance, but you caught the long, measuring look that the prince gave him before you took his hand and let him lead you towards the dance floor.

The moment he guided you into a waltz, you felt as if you’d been pulled into a separate world - suddenly isolated from the crowd and away from your guard. The dancing guests around you melted into a blur. All you could think about was whether you were shaking. Whether you looked anxious. Whether your hands were sweating. You wondered if Skye was watching, but you dared not look for him, afraid the prince would follow your gaze and suspect something.

To ground yourself, you studied his outfit. His pitch-black suit was perhaps more regal and luxurious than your own dress. The silver thread along his collar and lapels formed an intricate and winding pattern. You wondered how long it would have taken to sew it. His demeanour, his confidence, the way he carried himself seemed so familiar, as if he weren’t entirely a stranger.

“You look very familiar, Prince Kaylen,” you finally mustered, breaking the silence. “Are you sure we haven’t met?”

“Not officially,” he answered. His gaze felt as if it bore holes in you. “I attended Caine’s wedding, you may have seen me then.”

“Ah, yes. Of course,” you muttered. You winced inwardly at how casually he spoke about Cai. You hoped they hadn’t gotten too friendly in the lead-up to the wedding. The last thing you wanted was for them to form a friendship and give this man a reason to prolong his stay.

“I looked forward to meeting you properly this time,” the Prince continued, as he guided you through a turn. “You’ve been terribly elusive.” 

“What can I say?” You laughed awkwardly. “My family can be excessive in their protectiveness.”

“Your family loves you very much.” His voice was smooth and unreadable. “You’re very fortunate to have them.”

“Yes, I am,” you agreed with a polite smile, although you wanted to argue. You wanted to ask whether Kaylen also enjoyed such protectiveness from his family. But you felt like this wasn’t a man you should argue with. 

“Did you know,” he continued, “that during our last visit, my family offered marriage? Multiple times?”

“O-oh, really?” You stammered, nearly stumbling over your own feet, but his grip on your waist steadied you. He continued to dance with you, pretending not to notice your flustered state.

“And your parents refused, each time more abrupt than the last.” Kaylen’s words made you wince in embarrassment, but he seemed amused at the memory. You could only imagine your mother’s replies. “They’re not easily impressed,” he added, with a smile.

“Please don’t take it personally,” you tried to appease him. “I’m sure they only thought that a crown prince’s life was too exciting for their sickly daughter.” 

He laughed, the sound feeling oddly familiar. “I’m flattered, my lady,” he spun you, and when you returned to his arms, his eyes glinted. “But I was already married. And I’m too old for you.” 

You had the urge to argue that he didn’t seem much older. But then confusion took over you. “So who was I to marry?” 

“My brother, of course,” he answered smoothly. Did he mean Prince Sylus?

“It’s a shame that he’s not here then,” you said, trying to dig for information on his whereabouts.

“A terrible shame,” the prince sighed, a hint of annoyance on his handsome face. “I had expected to find him already here, if I’m to be honest.” 

The genuine emotion on his face surprised you. You wondered if his calculating nature cracked whenever his younger brother was involved.

“I hope he arrives safely.” You made conversation, filling the silence. “The Lemurian Seas are dangerous waters. They say their Sea God has been angry lately.” You weren’t lying. Your Lemurian guests had arrived later than expected, and they all spoke of how stormy the sea had been.

Kaylen smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “And if I find him… perhaps it will be a sign from the Sea God that I should try again. You don’t seem as sickly anymore.”

Absolutely not, you thought to yourself. Wherever this Sylus is, he can stay there. You laughed nervously, hoping your thoughts weren’t showing on your face. “So long as he doesn’t miss that wedding, too,” you offered, in an attempt to lighten the mood.

He opened his mouth to respond, but a tap on his shoulder interrupted him. He pulled away, letting you go and turned to look at what seemed to be one of his guards. The man whispered something urgently in his ear and you watched Kaylen’s expression shift. The look of annoyance on his face quickly disappeared, replaced by a bright smile. He murmured something back, then returned to you with an apologetic expression. 

“It was an absolute delight,” he said smoothly, bending over in a bow - still shallow, as one prince to another. You let him take your hand, and he pressed a light kiss to your knuckles. “But I’m afraid I’m needed elsewhere.”

“That’s a shame,” you answered politely. “Thank you for the dance.”

“It was my pleasure.” He straightened, his black eyes meeting yours one last time. “I hope we can continue this conversation later. Might I see you again tomorrow?” 

“Yes, of course,” you smiled, although inside you were screaming to yourself to say no. “I will have it arranged.” 

He nodded, and you watched him weave through the dancing couples, his guard clearing the way for him to who-knows-where. You stood frozen in the middle of the dance floor, your mind racing with questions. What was he talking about? Why did he want to see you again? You hoped that he wasn’t trying to arrange a marriage with that brother of his. 

Some men, knowing that your parents were hard nuts to crack, tried to go straight to you. Hoping that you’d fall for them and ask for marriage yourself, they’d attempt to meet you and woo you with gifts. But no one’s family had tried to reach out to you before. If that was Kaylen’s plan, you wanted none of it. And you wanted none of this Prince Sylus either. The last thing you needed was for some Prince to come in and disrupt your peace. Even if Skye was nobody to them, you were afraid of what they might do to him if they knew he was your lover.

You exhaled long and hard, trying to shake off those worrying thoughts. You were probably reading too much into it. Besides, your parents would never agree to a marriage with such a shady character. 

More importantly, where was Caine, and why wasn’t he entertaining Prince Kaylen if they were such friends? You pouted at your own thoughts.

As the dancers fluttered and twirled around you, you couldn’t help but wonder why everyone that you had met from Onychinus was so… theatrical. And frustrating. Did the cold make them all dramatic and mysterious, or was this a trait specific to their rulers and their henchmen?

You decided you’d been standing there for long enough and turned to look for your own northerner. But before you could spot him, another man blocked your path. Some Lord of this or that - your mind was so scrambled that you didn’t catch his name. He asked for a dance, and you agreed begrudgingly. The entire time you snuck looks around you between steps, trying to catch a glimpse of your knight, in hopes that he’d rescue you. 

When that dance ended, and you tried to slip away, a third man approached you. Before he could ask you to dance, you interrupted him as politely as you could and excused yourself, claiming you felt unwell. Then you dashed back to the tables where you had left Skye. 

When you returned, neither Skye nor Madeleine were there. 

You huffed, annoyed that your knight had disappeared the one time you actually needed him. You scanned over the crowd, but you couldn’t see either of them. 

You wandered through the large banquet hall, weaving between guests and servants, when Madeleine’s rosy dress caught your eye. She was laughing loudly at a story that one of your Lemurian guests - judging by his silk robes - was telling. 

“Maddie!” You called her name as you rushed to her. Her guest bowed to you, and you nodded in acknowledgement before turning to her. “Where is my knight?”

“Ah,” she waved a hand vaguely. “He couldn’t breathe in that helmet you stuffed him in, so I sent him to get some fresh air.”

“Where?” You asked, wide-eyed. 

“That way.” She pointed to a pair of double doors across the room, then turned back to her new companion, her attention already lost. 

You took off without another word. Your frustration was now replaced by worry, as you pushed through the doors into the empty hallway. You hoped that your attempt to keep him hidden from prying eyes hadn’t made him unwell. You mentally apologised to him for getting frustrated with him.

You walked past a pair of small balconies - both empty, with doors firmly shut. You tried a few side rooms, still no sign of him. You worried even more, wondering if he had collapsed somewhere. But the image of you fanning your knight with your skirts made you smile to yourself. 

Eventually, you made a turn and heard voices. You slowed, inching a little closer. Through the open doors and billowing sheer curtains, you spotted two figures on the balcony. One was Prince Kaylen, and the other was… 

Your Skye. 

You ducked back behind the corner and peeked at the pair. 

Skye stood with his face fully exposed, his helmet tucked under his arm. You felt a chill run through you; you couldn’t tell whether it was the cool air seeping through the balcony or the scene before you. 

You couldn’t quite hear what they were saying, but you could pick up fragments of their conversation. The Prince looked relaxed as he patted Skye on the shoulder. Skye, on the other hand, seemed tense. ‘Soon’, you heard the Prince say in a hush, and ‘with or without’. Skye seemed to grow more rigid as he hissed something back. All you could make out from his angry whisper was an emphasised ‘will not’.

You slapped a hand over your mouth in a silent scream. What are you doing?! You wanted to shout. Do you know WHO that is? 

You wanted to run over and make him bow and apologise, and beg for his life along with him. But your feet were frozen to the ground. You couldn’t comprehend why he was speaking to the Prince at all, let alone giving him attitude. 

When you heard your name fall from the Prince’s mouth, you took a sharp breath, and both men turned towards the doorway. Instinct took over, and you hid behind the wall with bated breath. Your heart pounded so hard you went dizzy.

You climbed up the damp rocks, slowly inching toward your goal. The light filtering through the opening in the cave grew brighter with each handhold. Your freedom felt seconds away. Your body screamed with exhaustion. Your hands were raw, your fingernails breaking and scraping against the stone. Just when you thought you’d reached the exit, your foot slipped on the rock. You lost your grip, and you rolled painfully all the way down, the rock scraping your skin through your tattered dress.

You heard a low, familiar laugh as you lay face-down in defeat. You rolled over and glared at him, scowling. “What?!” you demanded.

The dragon man lounged on a pile of treasures, his massive, scaled tail flicking lazily behind him, like a relaxed cat basking in the sun. Except there was no sun - only a dark cave, the faint candlelight bouncing off the gold and jewels strewn all around him like a nest. A ruby necklace dangled from his clawed finger as he inspected it with bored indifference. Its colour was identical to his eyes. 

“You won’t make it out, scuttling like a beetle like that,” he said, boredom and contempt dripping from his voice. He tossed the necklace somewhere behind him, the jewels clinking against the pile. “Aren’t you supposed to know magic?”

You lifted yourself off the ground, wincing. “That’s none of your business!” You huffed and turned to stare at the hole above you. It looked so small now, and so far away. You smoothed your ruined dress and took a deep breath before reaching for the rock again. 

You had only managed to go up a few steps when your arms gave out. Your fingers slipped, and just as you braced for another fall, something wrapped around your waist and yanked you back. You slammed into a broad, hard chest and twisted to find the dragon smirking down at you. His smugness was infuriating. 

“When will you accept that you belong to me?” His tail tightened around you. His face was handsome, even with the dark scales framing his sharp features. Two jagged horns curved back from his silver hair, and his eyes gleamed with hunger and amusement. His good looks made his attitude even more aggravating.

He swept your hair aside, his claws brushing on the back of your neck. The mark on your neck still ached. He leaned closer and slowly bit down on the same spot, his fangs pressing painfully into your skin. You opened your mouth to cry out when– 

Your eyes shot open. 

The dark cave dissolved, replaced by your lavish bedroom. Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, painting gold across your silk sheets. Instead of a scaled tail, a man's arm lay heavy across your waist, warm and solid. You shifted, looking behind you. Skye was still asleep, his face half-buried into your pillow, his silver hair tousled. For a moment, the dream clung to you, and irritation flickered through your chest. It was the same face that had mocked you in your sleep. 

You blinked a few times as you turned to face him properly. It’s only Skye, you told yourself, not an evil dragon. You were surprised to find him still asleep. He usually slipped away before the night and day guards swapped, and you sometimes wondered if he even slept at all when he spent the night with you. You brushed a strand of silver hair from his face, your fingertips tracing the sharp line of his cheekbone. Maybe he needed the rest, you thought.

You wondered why you had this dream. Maybe your worries about the Qins of the north were seeping into your dreams, giving you nightmares about dragons and fiends. As you gently brushed his cheek, he smiled, sleepy and softly, and pulled your naked body closer to his.

“Good morning,” he brushed his nose against yours. “Did you sleep well?”

You melted into him. “I dreamt of you.”

He pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “Was it a nice dream?”

You hummed, pretending to consider. “No,” you decided, “you were terribly mean to me.”

“What did I do?” He asked softly, his hand rubbing soothing circles into your lower back.

“Well, for starters, you were a…” You hesitated. You didn’t want to say dragon. “... creature.”

He huffed a laugh against your hair, “I’ve been called worse.”

“And you didn’t like me very much, “ you pouted. “You were mean and nasty.”

He pulled you even closer, nuzzling into you. “I sound dreadful. I apologise for dream-me’s actions.” He kissed your cheek, and then your jaw, each press of his lips a small apology.

“You’d better be sorry,” you sighed, tilting your head to give him more access.

He left soft, lazy kisses down your neck. “How can I make it up to you?”

You moaned softly when his lips found the same spot where dream-Skye had bitten you. “A day in the dungeons will suffice,” you teased, your hand roaming his back. 

“I shall make sure Rodge the jailer beats me with his club,” he murmured against your skin. 

You shuddered at the thought. “Please don’t even joke about it.” You wrapped your leg around him, pulling him closer.

Skye laughed, his voice still thick with sleep. “Do not worry, my lady. Nothing will happen to me.”

His hand slid down to your behind, squeezing gently as he pressed your heat against his thigh. “Will this make you forgive me?” He whispered.

You gasped, your hips buckling against him. “That… that will suffice.” 

He hummed, his grip tightening as your sensitive folds glided on him. You could feel his muscles flex beneath you, his own breath growing more ragged against your skin as his length pressed into your stomach. Your fingers tangled in his already messy hair. He rocked you against his thigh in a steady rhythm, as his own hips began to buck into you. “Yes… like that…” you moaned softly as you neared your peak, “like that…”  Your hips moved on their own, faster as you chased the feeling, until pleasure washed over you in waves. Your fingers pulled instinctively on his hair, and he groaned low against your neck, his body tensing as he spilled against your stomach. 

For a while, neither of you moved. You lay tangled together, as your breaths and heartbeats slowly returned to normal. He kissed you, his lips lingering on yours as he sighed through his nose. Then he pulled back, wincing slightly at the sticky mess between you. “I’m sorry, my princess.”

“Don’t be.” You giggled, and he grinned, hopping out of bed. You watched him, admiring the view as he walked off into your washroom and returned with a damp, warm cloth. He sat beside you and cleaned you up with gentle, careful strokes. He leaned down to press a kiss to your cheek. 

“Do you forgive me now, my love?” His voice was playful. “Or do I need to be even nicer?”

You bit your lip. “You could–” you began, when a loud knock shattered the moment, and both of you froze.

“Who––who is it?” You called out as you shot up to sit.

“Edward, my lady.” You heard a muffled voice through the door, “I’m your guard for the day.” You looked at Skye, as realisation seemed to dawn on his face.

“Your maid is here, my lady,” the knight called again. 

“Wait!” You shouted, then grabbed Skye’s arm. “What’s going on?”

“I’m meant to be training this morning,” he said quietly. 

“Then what do we do?!” you whispered to him, panic rising in you. “How will you leave with him outside?” 

You weren’t so worried about Erin seeing him in your room - after all, she already knew about the nature of your relationship. But you couldn’t risk another Sun Guard catching a glimpse of him or his armour in your room. He would immediately alert the king and queen.

“Worry not, my lady,” his grin returned to his face, “I have my ways.”

He gave you a quick peck and rose, dressing himself and strapping his armour on with practised speed. You scrambled out of bed, tying a silk robe around yourself. Within moments, he was at your window, pulling it wide open. 

“What are you doing?” You rushed to him, grabbing his plated arm. “It’s such a high drop, you can’t!” 

He leaned over the protective railing, studying the floors below. “There’s an open balcony just beneath us. It’ll be easy.” 

“No!” You gasped. “You can’t climb out of my window like we’re in some… some…” You struggled for words. “Raunchy romance novel!”

His grin widened. “Could be worse, my lady,” he swung one leg over the ledge, “I could be hiding in your closet.” 

He pressed one last kiss to your lips before turning and moving across the wall with ease. You leaned over the stone railing with bated breath as you watched him descend. Unlike your clumsiness in your dream, his movements were fluid and confident. He dropped onto the balcony below you, then looked up at you with a final, assured smile before he disappeared into the room below. 

You pressed a hand to your racing heart as you collected yourself and walked over to your door. You unlocked it and found Erin waiting patiently with your breakfast tray in her hands, her expression neutral.

“Come in…” You said, a little breathless.

She crossed to your bed and placed your tray down. Once your door was closed again, her eyes drifted around the room. “Sir Skye has made his escape, I take it?”

You couldn’t help the little laugh that escaped you. “Well…” 

Erin’s composure cracked, and she pressed her hand to her mouth, giggling with you.

You sat under a tree, book in hand, and a basket of fruit next to you. The book was only an excuse, and a flimsy one. Your real purpose was painfully obvious to everyone around you. You were there to watch Sir Skye train. 

When you’d arrived to your viewing spot, the knights had already finished with their physical training and had moved on to sparring with training swords. Skye was matched with a knight of similar height and build to himself. You had no real knowledge of swordplay, but it seemed to you like Skye was the stronger one. Or perhaps it was just your infatuation making you think he was winning, you thought to yourself as you picked on some fruit. 

You wrapped yourself tighter in your cloak, sighing contentedly as you watched him move. He deflected blows with practised ease, his counterattacks swift and confident. You wondered if he was showing off because he knew you were watching, and you tried, and failed, to hide your grin behind your book. Sir Edward stood nearly dutifully, pretending not to notice.

With more wedding guests arriving, your days grew more stressful. Now that you were convinced that Skye was connected to the Qins, you were determined to keep him far from their sight. You avoided visitors whenever possible, but with the palace filling up, it was becoming impossible to hide. You made excuses to skip greeting royal arrivals, especially those from the north. On the day that Prince Kaylen was due to make his entrance, you claimed to be unwell. Your family summoned Doctor Zayne immediately, and he awkwardly examined you, knowing full well that nothing was wrong with you. To your relief, he said nothing to your parents and only recommended rest and plenty of fluids.

Unfortunately for you, as Crown Prince of Onychinus, Kaylen was one of your most important guests. He’d been granted an entire wing of the castle for himself and his retinue, and your brother Caine, as Crown Prince himself, was tasked with entertaining him. You made careful notes of their plans in your diary - vineyard tours, hunting trips, tours of the castle and capital city. You asked your most trusted servants to keep you updated on his movements, and so far, you had managed to stay out of his sight. It was becoming ever-harder avoiding him and his entourage, and you didn’t know how long you could hide out in the library and your own apartment.

You were unsure if Skye had noticed your interest in Prince Kaylen. You knew he had a jealous streak, even if he tried to hide it. You would have thought that if he knew, he would have made it known.

You were so lost in thought that you didn’t notice the knights had finished their training. You scanned the training grounds for your lover and found him standing beside one of the buildings, speaking to a man you’d never seen before. They were partially hidden from the training grounds, but from your position, you had a clear view. 

They shook hands, and Skye seemed to tuck something into his tunic. You wondered if that man had passed him something. Or perhaps Skye was simply fixing his shirt. It was impossible to tell from this distance. 

Then Skye turned, and you locked eyes. He smiled at you, and you suddenly felt as though you were the one who’d been caught doing something suspicious. You rose to your feet and instructed Sir Edward to wait for you before you crossed the grass toward them.

As you walked over, Skye’s companion also noticed you approaching and straightened.

“Sir Skye,” you said lightly, “won’t you introduce me to your friend?”

“Yes, my lady,” Skye answered politely, and moved to stand beside you. “This is Luke. He was my companion and fellow sellsword.”

You studied his friend. He had shoulder-length red hair gathered in a high ponytail, a few loose strands nicely framing his face. He wore dark, well-tailored clothes and no armour.

Once he was introduced, Luke swept into a deep bow. “An honour to meet you, Your Highness.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Sir Luke.” You offered a polite smile. “It’s rare to meet a friend of Sir Skye.”

“Ah, it’s only Luke, my lady. No ‘sir’ for me,” the red-head waved a hand.

You raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t take knighthood?”

“I’m a simple man.” Luke grinned, easy and unbothered. “Gold was a good enough reward for me.”

“I see,” you nodded in understanding. “And… have you settled in Solen then?” You probed further. He didn’t seem so simple to you.

Before Luke could answer, Skye cut in smoothly. “He’s a beekeeper. That’s what he used the gold for.”

“Oh?” You turned to look at Skye and back at Luke. “Do you plan to produce some of that famed Onychinus mead?”

“Yes, my lady,” Luke agreed eagerly. “And I shall make sure you receive our best batch!”

“That’s so kind of you,” you smiled, but your mind was racing. He was from up north as well. 

While you were speaking, Skye gave Luke a pointed look and a small, sharp jerk of his head toward the path behind you. 

Luke’s eyes flickered behind you, and then back to you, his smile seeming almost nervous. “I’m afraid I must go, Your Highness.” He laughed, a little too bright. “Those bees won’t milk themselves.”

“Ah, yes, of course,” you tried not to let your confusion show. “I hope we meet again.”

“It would be the greatest honour.” He bowed again and departed, his steps a little too quick to be casual. 

The two of you stood in an awkward silence as you watched Luke leave. “What an odd fellow,” you muttered. “Are all of your sellsword friends like this?” You turned to Skye.

“I’m afraid so,” he answered. Then a slow, sly smile spread on his face. 

“Did you enjoy my training, my lady?” He asked, smoothly changing the course of the conversation before you could ask any more questions. You decided to let it go, for now.

“Oh, it was a fantastic performance.” Your eyes sparkled as you played along. “I didn’t know you could move like that!”

Skye leaned closer and whispered into your ear, “You know better than anyone how I can move, my princess.”

You gasped, slapping his arm in pretend shock, and laughed behind your hand. You fell back to your usual banter, your encounter with Luke seemingly forgotten. By the time you rejoined Sir Edward, you were laughing at something Skye had said. But as you walked, you made a mental note about Luke. You had an uneasy sense that you had witnessed something that you shouldn't have seen. For a moment, you doubted whether he had ever been part of Skye's sellsword company at all. What if he had arrived with Prince Kaylen? The thought made your stomach tighten. You would ask your servants to watch for him and note whether he returned to the castle.

You knew you were a sheltered princess, and contrary to what the commonfolk whispered, you took no part in court plots and intrigues. But you weren't as naive as people thought - or at least, you hoped you weren't. You knew something about their story and interaction didn't quite add up.