I wanted to understand what kind of help Kairan needed from this body.
And, of course, he came at night.
This time, I stayed awake.
I sat on the bed, my back against the headboard, a book open in my hands under the soft glow of the bedside lamp. It was meant to be a bedtime story, something light and dull enough to pass the time.
Gawwwd, this is boring.
Just then, the curtains billowed inward.
I didn't even flinch.
Such a dramatic man.
I kept my gaze fixed on the balcony, waiting for him to announce himself like a normal person for once.
"What are you looking at?"
I shrieked and nearly launched myself off the bed.
The voice came from beside me.
I spun my head around, heart slamming into my ribs. Kairan stood there, right next to my bed, one shoulder resting lazily against the wall as if he'd always stood there.
"What the hell, Your Highness?" I hissed, panic taking over as I slapped a hand over my mouth and shot a glance at the door.
He looked mildly amused. "Interesting," he said calmly. "You are awake tonight, not pretending to sleep."
He lifted one brow.
"I—" I swallowed. "I needed to ask you a few things."
His gaze drifted to the book in my hands before returning to my face.
"At this hour?" he asked calmly. "You are either very brave… or very reckless."
"Probably both," I muttered. I forced myself to sit straighter despite the nerves crawling up my spine. "You enter my chambers uninvited every night. I think that earns me the right to ask questions."
A faint curve touched his lips, m quite a smile, more like quiet approval.
"You assume I owe you answers," he said, pushing himself off the wall and turning fully toward me. "That is a dangerous assumption."
I clenched my jaw. Arrogant man.
"And you assume I won't dig them up myself," I shot back, lifting my chin to meet his gaze. "That's your mistake."
Every instinct in my body screamed that I'd gone too far. Speaking to the crown prince like that should have earned me a death sentence.
Instead, he merely hummed.
"Hm." His eyes shifted briefly toward the balcony, the night breeze stirring the curtains behind him. "Ask."
My eyes widened despite myself. I hadn't expected him to concede so easily.
I rose onto my knees, turning fully toward him. He glanced back at me, one brow lifting.
"Today, I read about the Nyxarëal witches," I said carefully. "There was an account of a white dragon being sealed inside the sixth descendant of the Ashbourne line."
"And?" he prompted, as if I were stating something painfully obvious.
"And it was Nyxarëal witches who performed the sealing," I continued, my voice slowing. My gaze locked onto his face. "So tell me, could it be that you need my help in the same way? Is that what this is about?"
Silence fell between us.
His emerald eyes met mine, the intensity of it stole the breath right out of my lungs. There was too much in that look, something I couldn't understand yet.
I couldn't hold it. I looked away first.
"You ask the right questions," he said quietly.
I felt his presence closer now, though I hadn't heard him move.
"But this," he continued, voice low , "is not the right time for you to know the answers."
I swallowed. "Why?"
"I do not intend to tell you anything yet," he said.
My fingers curled into my palms as I let out a sharp breath through my nose. Everything always bent to his will, his timing, his rules, and the not knowing was driving me to the edge.
I looked at him again, forcing myself not to back down. "Your Highness… I don't know anything," I said quietly. "I don't know what you want from me, or when my life will suddenly be placed in danger."
My hand lifted on instinct, grasping at empty air as if I needed something solid to keep me upright. "I'm living in constant fear," I admitted, my voice wavering despite my effort to keep it steady. "Every single day. I need to know what I'm being dragged into."
Heat burned behind my eyes. I looked down immediately, refusing to let the tears fall.
"I am not Meredia," I whispered. "I am not bold or fearless like her. I am afraid. I am afraid for my life, Your Highness."
Before I could stop myself, my fingers caught the cuff of his sleeve. The realization of what I'd done struck a second too late. I looked up at him, desperation breaking through my restraint.
"Please," I said softly. "I don't want to die."
He didn't react at once. He only looked at me, his face unreadable, his silence heavier than any anger. I had no way of knowing what thoughts crossed his mind whether this moved him, annoyed him, or meant nothing at all.
Then, slowly, he lifted his hand and placed it on my head.
The touch was very light, barely there but unmistakably real.
"You will not die," he said.
His hand stayed there a second longer than it needed to.
It wasn't comforting. It wasn't gentle in a parental way. It was just firm like he was pressing a truth into me, whether I was ready to accept it or not.
I swallowed hard. "You say that so easily," I murmured. "As if death listens to you."
His fingers shifted faintly in my hair. It was a smallest movement yet it sent a sharp shiver down my spine.
"It does," he replied. "In this palace, it listens to me more often than not."
I hated how calm he sounded. How terrifyingly confident he was in something I couldn't even begin to understand.
Defeated, I dropped my gaze. There was nothing I could do except trust him.
And trusting him… I lifted my eyes to him again, my chest tightening. It felt like standing barefoot on the edge of a blade, one wrong move and I'd bleed.
"How," I whispered, "am I supposed to trust you… when you're the one who cut my wrist?"
My brows drew together, my lips trembling despite my effort to hold them still.
He didn't answer right away.
He stepped back, turning toward the balcony, the night air brushing past him as he came to a stop. Only then did he look over his shoulder at me.
"You have no other choice."
And then he was gone. One blink, and the space where he had stood was empty.
Frustration exploded out of me.
I grabbed the pillow and hurled it at the empty spot he'd occupied a second ago, watching it hit nothing before dropping uselessly to the floor. With a groan, I buried my face into the mattress.
"Hell with you!" I yelled, my voice muffled. "Arrogant prince!"
I pounded my fists into the bed, over and over, each hit weak and furious all at once.
"I hate you," I muttered, then louder, "I hate you!"
"Actually...I intended to show you the place where you will train your magic."
I froze.
Not again.
Slowly, I lifted my face from the mattress.
He was standing there again, right in front of my bed as if reality itself had politely rearranged to accommodate him.
"Y–your… high–highness," I stammered, scrambling upright.
A cold smile curved his lips. "I heard you."
My soul left my body. He hadn't left and heard me. I couldn't understand why this happened, how this man could hear me every time.
"I—" I swallowed hard, heat flooding my face. "You weren't supposed to."
He shrugged smoothly, "here we are."
He crossed his arms, broad shoulders shifting beneath the fabric, his gaze on me like I was something he was assessing rather than scolding. It somehow made it worse.
"You possess remarkable lungs," he continued. "Impressive volume. Very sincere."
I wanted the mattress to swallow me whole.
"I was—I didn't mean—" I gestured vaguely at the bed, the air, my ruined dignity. "I thought you'd left."
"I had," he said. "Then I returned."
Of course he did.
His eyes flicked briefly to the pillow on the floor, then back to my face. One brow lifted, slowly. "Should I take that as an expression of affection?"
I choked. "Absolutely not."
"Hm." The corner of his mouth twitched, almost imperceptibly. "Pity."
He straightened, all traces of humor vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.
"Get up," he said. "Dress properly."
"For—for what?"
His emerald gaze locked onto mine. "i will show you the place."
He turned toward the balcony. "I will be waiting outside."
"Uh… but what should I wear?" I asked, already bracing myself.
"Hm." He didn't even slow his steps. "A ball gown."
This man was really strange. Who wears a ball gown at this time of night? I shook my head at the man's intelligence.
"Oh—but I don't know how to tie the corset without my maids' help—"
I froze mid-sentence.
Wait. I blinked. Once. Twice
That was sarcasm… right?
"Your Highness?" I leaned forward, peering toward the balcony.
He stopped at the threshold and turned his head just enough for me to see his profile. His expression was flat, unimpressed.
"Are you truly that dim-witted," he said coolly, "or do you simply enjoy asking foolish questions? Wear what you train in."
My jaw clenched so hard it nearly hurt.
I wanted to kill this man. Genuinely why was he like this?
With a frustrated groan, I swung my legs off the bed and stalked toward the wardrobe. I yanked the doors open.
"It's too dark in here," I muttered.
I lit a candle and stepped inside, the small flame casting restless shadows around me while outside, somewhere beyond the balcony, the most infuriating prince in all of Valkathra waited like he hadn't just shaved five years off my life.
I pulled on my training clothes। A plain shirt and fitted trousers which was functioning and simple, at least in theory.
I was so used to being dressed by maids that I fumbled with half the ties and fastenings, muttering under my breath the entire time. Tying my hair into a ponytail turned into its own personal battle, but after several failed attempts and one very aggressive tug, I managed something acceptable.
I stepped out and glanced toward the balcony.
Kairan was still there, his broad back to me, posture relaxed in that infuriatingly effortless way of his. Quiet like this, he was… dangerous in a different sense. Nothing about him screamed murderer when he wasn't speaking.
As if he felt my gaze, he tilted his head slightly, then looked away again.
I swallowed and stepped onto the balcony, stopping a little behind him. "Your Highness," I said softly, "I'm ready."
He slipped one hand into his pocket and glanced at me from the corner of his eye. "Very well." Then, with a lazy motion of his fingers, he gestured. "Come closer."
Uh. Why?
I hesitated, then took a cautious step toward him.
One brow arched. "I am not going to devour you," he said dryly. "You may come closer than that."
Right. Of course.
I looked down and muttered, "I wouldn't mind you devouring me… if you weren't a murderous, cold-blooded devil."
"I heard that too," he replied smoothly.
I should have just dug mt own grave at that moment because I didn't understand why were his ears so sharp. He always heard me. And he had to hear me being a simple on him.
A faint blue light flickered around his fingers.
Heat rushed to my face. I refused to look at him and stepped closer, apparently still not enough, because the next thing I knew, his arm slid around my shoulders and pulled me in.
I gasped softly as my forehead bumped against his chest..his chin well above my head.
"Close your eyes," he said quietly. "Unless you wish to feel… unsteady."
My heart thudded. I did as told and shut my eyes.
It felt like the ground tilted, like my weight was being carried by something. My stomach dipped, my senses blurred, and then came stillness.
"Open your eyes," he said.
I did.
My breath caught.
We were no longer in my room.
An open forest stretched around us, ancient trees rising high into the night, their leaves whispering under a dark, starlit sky. The air was cool.
I stared, stunned.
And beside me, Kairan stood utterly at ease like this wild, hidden place had been waiting for him all along.
The roar of water grew louder as I noticed it....a waterfall spilling down jagged stone, silver under the moonlight, mist curling through the air like breath.
"This," he said, already moving toward it, "is where you will begin training."
I hurried after him. "When?"
"I have not decided."
Of course you haven't.
I rolled my eyes behind his back. Even if he had decided, this man would rather swallow poison than tell me anything plainly.
"This place is beautiful," I said instead, choosing peace over homicide.
"I know." He turned slightly, gesturing to the space around us with an open palm. "The energy here is balanced. It will not overwhelm you."
"And if it does?" I asked, half-teasing, half-afraid.
He didn't even blink. "Then you will die."
I exhaled sharply. Predictable answer.
I drifted closer to the waterfall, drawn by it without quite knowing why. The water looked impossibly clear, almost glowing, as if moonlight had dissolved into it. Without thinking, I dipped my finger into the stream.
Instant regret.
A vicious, electric cold exploded through my fingertip, like my skin had been stabbed with ice needles. The chill didn't stop at the surface. It sank into me, racing up my nerve like frost spreading over glass.
"Ah!" I yanked my hand back with a sharp cry.
My finger went pale, almost white. Frost blooming over the skin, numb and burning at the same time. It throbbed painfully, like it didn't quite belong to me anymore.
Before I could panic properly, Kairan was there.
He caught my wrist and thumb brushing over my frozen finger. The contrast between his warm skin and the unnatural cold sent a jolt through me that had nothing to do with pain.
"I told you not to touch it," he said quietly pressing my finger. I shrunk my eyes shut for a second due to pain.
"I didn't think—" I started.
"No," he interrupted, eyes fixed on my hand. "You didn't."
The faint blue glow bled from his fingers as he covered mine completely, enclosing my hand between both of his. Heat seeped back slowly, painfully, like circulation returning after being cut off. Pins and needles flared, making me hiss.
"Hold still," he murmured.
I did.
Gradually, the frost melted. Color returned to my skin. The pain dulled into a lingering ache.
Only then did I realize how close he was.
My hand was still trapped between his, my knuckles brushing his chest, my face barely a breath away from him. I could smell him...clean, sharp, faintly metallic.h
He finally looked up.
Emerald eyes met mine.
"You are careless," he said softly. "And entirely unaware of how fragile you are."
Something twisted in my chest at that... Something other than irritation.
I pulled my hand back slowly. "Then maybe," I said, lifting my chin, "you should stop leaving me in the dark."
His gaze lingered on me for a long moment.
Then, the corner of his mouth curved fsintly.
"Careful," he said. "You are beginning to sound like someone who expects answers."
And for some reason, my heart skipped like it had just been challenged. Ji