The palace gardens were quieter than usual that morning, the soft hum of cicadas filling the spaces where chatter normally thrived. Elara moved along the stone path with a tray of cooled tea, meant for the Crown Prince's study. But Kael wasn't there instead, she found him standing beneath the shade of a tall cypress, his gaze fixed on the sprawling fountain ahead.
When his eyes shifted to her, it was brief… yet sharp.
"You're far from the servants' wing," he said, voice smooth but weighted, as if weighing each word for purpose.
"I was bringing this to your study, Your Highness," she replied, lowering her gaze.
His hand brushed the tray as he took the cup, and the simple touch was enough to send a strange flutter through her chest. He lingered just a fraction too long before releasing it. "Be careful where you wander, Elara. Not every path in this palace is safe."
It could have been a warning — or something else entirely. Before she could decide, he turned and walked away, leaving her in the filtered sunlight, pulse oddly unsteady.
---
An hour later, Elara was outside the palace walls. The Duke she once served had sent for her, asking she deliver a set of sealed documents to his steward's estate on the edge of the capital. The air here was sharper, carrying the scents of baked bread and distant market smoke.
Cutting through a side street, she slowed when she caught sight of a cloaked figure handing a small, leather-bound case to another man. They spoke in low tones, but one word carried to her ear — Kael. Her steps faltered.
The cloaked man glanced her way, eyes narrowing. Elara forced herself to keep walking, feigning disinterest, though her heartbeat climbed.
---
Back in the palace, Lady Serina stood on a balcony, her eyes fixed on the garden below. She'd seen it that faint, almost imperceptible look in Kael's eyes when he spoke to her. That slip of a maid who, until recently, was no one.
When the Queen approached, Serina didn't waste time with pleasantries.
"Your Majesty… I believe we have a problem."
The Queen's smile was small and knowing. "Then perhaps we should solve it… together."
---
Elsewhere, Lord Lucienne and Lady Mirren rode side by side on a quiet diplomatic errand to the coastal village of Belthar. The wind tugged at Mirren's veil, her thoughts heavy with the sight of Kael and Serina earlier that morning — and the unshakable feeling that fate was twisting the story she thought she knew.
Lucienne glanced her way. "You're quieter than usual. Thinking about home… or someone in it?"
She met his gaze, startled by the ease in his tone. "I'm thinking about… too much," she admitted.
His answering smile was faint but almost warm — and it lingered, as if holding something back. "Then I'll distract you," he said, guiding his horse ahead. The way he carried himself spoke of authority no mere visiting lord should possess.
---
By nightfall, the palace seemed unchanged on the surface. But unseen threads were tightening — an assassin's timetable was already shifting, alliances were beginning to form, and Elara… had unwittingly stepped closer to the heart of a danger she hadn't yet named.