Mira woke up before dawn with the uncomfortable awareness that she was not alone.
Not in the threatening way.
In the too-aware way.
Adrian was asleep on the opposite couch, one arm draped over his eyes, jaw slack with exhaustion. Without the crown, without the posture, he looked younger. Human.
She looked away quickly.
Bad idea. Very bad idea.
She stood quietly and padded toward the window, staring out at the pale morning light creeping over Aristella's gardens.
She hadn't imagined the danger last night. Someone had been watching. And someone had wanted to scare her.
The thought tightened her chest.
Behind her, fabric rustled.
"Mira," Adrian said sleepily. "Why are you up?"
"Couldn't sleep," she replied.
He sat up, rubbing his face, then froze when he saw how tense she was.
"It's not over," she said.
"No," he agreed. "It's begun."
They dressed and headed for breakfast under heavier guard than usual. The change was subtle, but Aristella noticed.
And reacted.
By the time Mira stepped into the dining hall, eyes snapped toward her like magnets. The whispers were louder now.
"She stayed in the royal wing overnight."
"They were together."
"This is beyond protocol."
Mira rolled her eyes. "I swear, these people narrate their own fantasies."
Leo slid into step beside her, grin firmly in place, but his eyes were sharp.
"Morning, cohabitation queen."
"Don't," Mira warned.
"Oh, I will," he said. "You okay?"
"Define okay."
Before Leo could respond, a noble boy stepped forward, tall, impeccably dressed, and wearing a smile that tried too hard.
"Mira Lawson," he said smoothly. "I heard about last night. Terrifying. If you'd like, I'd be happy to escort you today."
Mira blinked. "Escort me where?"
"Anywhere," he replied, clearly pleased with himself.
Before Mira could respond, Adrian stepped in.
"No."
The word landed like a blade.
The boy stiffened. "Your Highness, I was simply offering, "
"I said no."
Mira turned to Adrian. "I can speak for myself."
He met her gaze, tension flickering. "I know."
"Then stop doing that."
The noble boy backed away quickly.
Leo whispered, "Wow. Territorial."
"Shut up," Mira muttered.
But she couldn't ignore it.
Adrian's jaw was tight. His eyes tracked anyone who lingered too long near her.
Later that morning, she cornered him in the corridor.
"What was that?" she demanded.
"A threat assessment," he replied too quickly.
She scoffed. "You looked like you wanted to duel him."
"That was also an assessment."
"Mmm. Of your patience?"
He exhaled sharply. "This isn't funny."
"No," she said. "It's not. You don't get to decide who talks to me."
"I know," he said. "But I don't like it."
The honesty stunned her.
She crossed her arms. "You don't like what?"
"Anyone else near you," he admitted quietly. "Especially now."
Her pulse jumped. "That sounds like jealousy."
"It sounds like concern."
She stepped closer. "Say it again."
He held her gaze. For a long moment, the prince disappeared.
"Yes," he said. "I'm jealous."
There it was.
Raw. Unpolished.
Dangerous.
Her breath caught, but she forced a smirk. "Good. Get used to it."
His lips curved faintly. "You enjoy provoking me."
"Absolutely."
A voice cut through the tension.
"Mira Lawson."
Seraphina stood at the end of the hall, flanked by two council members.
Her smile was calm. Her eyes were calculating.
"The council requests your presence," Seraphina said. "Immediately."
Mira straightened. "About what?"
Seraphina's gaze flicked to Adrian. "About last night."
Adrian stepped forward. "She was under my protection."
Seraphina's smile sharpened. "That's exactly the problem."
Mira inhaled slowly.
The danger wasn't just in shadows anymore.
It was political.
And this time, it was wearing silk.
The council chamber was colder than the Grand Hall.
Not in temperature.
In intent.
Mira felt it the moment she stepped inside, stone walls that had listened to secrets for generations, a ceiling too high to hear pleas, and long tables polished smooth by the weight of power. This wasn't a place designed for fairness. It was designed for control.
Seraphina walked ahead of her, heels echoing softly, perfectly at ease.
Adrian followed half a step behind Mira.
Not leading.
Not commanding.
Standing with her.
That alone unsettled the council.
They took their seats. Mira didn't wait to be told where to sit. She chose a chair in the centre, visible, deliberate, unapologetic.
The Headmaster watched her closely but said nothing.
A man with silver hair and a voice like dry parchment spoke first. "Mira Lawson. Lucky Star. Recipient of unprecedented attention."
Mira tilted her head. "That's one way to put it."
Seraphina's lips twitched.
Another council member leaned forward. "Last night, there was an incident near the royal wing."
"Yes," Mira said calmly. "Someone tried to intimidate me."
"Or," Seraphina interjected smoothly, "someone reacted to inappropriate proximity."
Mira laughed. "You really do love spinning stories."
Seraphina turned to her. "You stayed overnight in the Crown Prince's wing."
"I was threatened," Mira shot back. "Forgive me for prioritizing survival over etiquette."
Murmurs rippled through the council.
The silver-haired man raised a hand. "The issue is not your fear, Miss Lawson. It is perception."
"Perception is lazy," Mira replied. "Truth takes effort."
Adrian shifted beside her.
The Headmaster's eyes flicked to him. "Your Highness, you authorized her stay?"
"Yes," Adrian said evenly. "I did."
"Without consulting the council?"
"Yes."
A sharp inhale went around the room.
Seraphina turned toward him, disbelief flickering across her composed face. "Adrian, you cannot, "
"I can," he said quietly. "And I will again if necessary."
Mira stared at him.
He hadn't looked at her yet.
He was looking at them.
A woman in deep blue robes spoke next. "This behavior compromises the crown."
Adrian finally turned to Mira, then back to the council. "No. What compromises the crown is fear of a young woman who refuses to be managed."
Silence fell.
Seraphina's fingers curled slightly.
Mira felt something tighten in her chest, not fear.
Recognition.
The silver-haired man exhaled slowly. "You are emotionally involved."
Adrian didn't deny it.
"I am invested," he said. "There's a difference."
Mira swallowed.
The Headmaster leaned forward. "The council has decided on safeguards."
Mira's jaw clenched. "Here it comes."
"You will be restricted," the Headmaster continued. "Your movements monitored. Your interactions approved. You will not appear alone with the Crown Prince."
Mira stood.
"No."
The word rang louder than she expected.
"I will not be leashed," she said. "Not by you. Not by tradition. Not by fear dressed as concern."
Seraphina rose smoothly. "You are in no position to refuse."
Mira stepped closer to the table. "You're right. I'm in a position to expose."
The room stiffened.
"I didn't seek power," Mira continued. "You handed it to me when you put me on a stage and told the world I mattered. Now you're upset because I believed you."
The council exchanged looks.
"You want compliance," Mira said. "Not values. If that's what Aristella is, then stop pretending it's a school."
The silver-haired man's face hardened. "Careful, girl."
Adrian moved.
Not dramatically.
Just enough to stand between Mira and the table.
"Speak to her with respect," he said softly. "Or not at all."
Seraphina's composure cracked, just a hairline fracture. "You would choose her over the crown?"
Adrian didn't hesitate.
"I would choose what makes the crown worth wearing."
That did it.
The chamber erupted, raised voices, furious whispers, disbelief crackling through the air.
The Headmaster struck the gavel hard.
"Enough!"
The room snapped silent.
She looked at Mira. "You may go."
Mira didn't move immediately.
She met the Headmaster's gaze. "This ends one way or another. You don't scare me anymore."
Then she turned and walked out.
Adrian followed.
The doors closed behind them with a heavy finality.
They didn't speak until they reached the empty corridor beyond.
Mira stopped suddenly and turned on him.
"You shouldn't have done that."
He met her eyes. "I know."
"You put yourself at risk."
"I was already at risk."
"You didn't even hesitate."
He stepped closer. "Neither did you."
Her voice softened despite herself. "This isn't a game anymore."
"No," he agreed. "It's a line."
She searched his face. "And you crossed it."
"Yes."
A beat passed.
Then she said quietly, "Thank you."
His breath left him slowly. "You shouldn't thank me."
"I will anyway."
They stood there, too close, too honest, too aware.
Somewhere inside Aristella, plans were being rewritten.
Enemies named.
Allies revealed.
And for the first time, the crown had chosen a side.