The first real threat didn't arrive loudly.
It slipped in quietly.
Like a whisper meant only for Mira.
She found the note folded neatly on her desk when she returned to her room that afternoon.
No signature.
No crest.
Just four words written in elegant ink.
Leave the royal wing.
Mira stared at it for a long moment.
Then she laughed.
A sharp, humourless sound.
"That's adorable," she muttered, crumpling the paper in her fist.
She tossed it into the bin and went about her evening like nothing had happened, because giving fear attention felt like giving it permission.
Unfortunately, fear didn't care what she felt.
Dinner was tense.
Not because of Adrian, he was quieter than usual, eyes scanning the room more than her, but because Mira felt watched. Every clink of cutlery sounded louder. Every shadow lingered longer than it should.
When she finally pushed her chair back, Adrian noticed immediately.
"You didn't eat," he said.
"I did," she replied. "Emotionally."
He frowned. "That's not funny."
"Good thing I wasn't joking."
They walked back toward the royal wing together, guards a respectful distance behind. The corridor lights dimmed slightly as night settled in.
That was when it happened.
A figure stepped out of the shadows.
Fast.
Silent.
Too close.
Mira reacted on instinct.
She stepped sideways, right into Adrian, and the stranger froze, startled by the sudden movement.
Guards shouted.
The figure bolted.
Adrian was already moving.
"After them," he ordered sharply.
Two guards sprinted past. Another stayed close.
Adrian turned to Mira, hands gripping her shoulders now, eyes blazing.
"Are you hurt?"
"No," she said breathlessly. "But if you shake me any harder, I might be."
He released her instantly. "Sorry."
She stared at him. "That wasn't Seraphina-level drama. That was real."
"Yes," he said grimly. "And it won't be the last."
They reached the royal wing in silence, tension wrapped tight around both of them.
Inside, Mira paced like a caged animal.
"I am not going to live like this," she snapped. "I refuse to be intimidated."
Adrian watched her carefully. "You're not alone."
"I didn't ask for protection."
"I know," he said softly. "But tonight, you're getting it."
She stopped pacing. "What does that mean?"
"It means," he said evenly, "you're not sleeping alone tonight."
Her breath caught.
"What?"
"Not like that," he added quickly. "You'll take the sitting room. I'll be in the adjacent chamber. Doors open. Guards posted."
She crossed her arms. "You don't trust your own security?"
"I trust patterns," he replied. "And this is escalating."
She searched his face.
He wasn't commanding her.
He was asking.
"…Fine," she said finally. "But this doesn't mean you get to hover."
A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "I wouldn't dare."
Night settled uneasily.
Mira lay on the sofa, staring at the ceiling, senses on high alert. Every sound felt amplified.
She heard footsteps.
Then, quietly, Adrian's voice.
"Mira?"
"Yes."
"Are you awake?"
"Obviously."
A pause.
"I should apologize," he said. "For pulling you earlier."
She sighed. "You were scared."
"Yes."
"Me too."
Silence stretched.
Then she sat up.
"This is ridiculous," she muttered, grabbing a blanket. "Move over."
He stiffened. "Mira, "
"Relax," she said, dropping onto the edge of the larger couch near him. "If someone tries anything, I want to see their face."
He watched her carefully. "You don't make things easy."
She smirked faintly. "I warned you."
They sat there, close enough to feel each other's presence, far enough to pretend it didn't matter.
Pretending failed.
Her shoulder brushed his arm.
Neither moved.
"Mira," he said quietly.
"What?"
"If I cross a line, tell me."
She looked at him. "Same."
Their eyes met.
Something shifted.
Not explosive.
Not dramatic.
Just… honest.
He reached out slowly, giving her time to stop him.
She didn't.
His fingers curled gently around her hand.
Warm.
Steady.
Real.
"This changes nothing," she whispered.
He nodded. "Nothing."
But they both knew it wasn't true.
Because the danger was no longer just outside the royal wing.
It was right there, between them.