I talked with Evelisse for quite a while, long enough for her shoulders to loosen and her voice to stop wobbling every second. She was still shy though. every time I met her eyes, she'd flick hers away like I was staring into her soul.
But honestly? That was something I could help her with later.
And yeah, sure, I needed her for protection… but the more she spoke, the more I genuinely wanted her as a friend. She was… just good in a way that felt rare in this place.
I pushed myself up from the sofa. "Alright. Now go out there and talk with confidence. Mother isn't a monster."
Evelisse stood too, nodding. "Y-yes… I'll try."
Her hands were still trembling. I stepped closer and gently took one of them. "It's okay. She's strict, not cruel. And she's my mother, not the Crown Prince. You'll be fine."
She nodded again, a little less stiff this time.
I gave her an encouraging smile and headed toward the door. When I turned back, she was still rooted to her spot beside the chair, staring at me like she wanted to say something.
I raised a brow. "What is it?"
She hesitated, then her lips curved into the smallest, sweetest smile.
"Lady… you're very beautiful. Just like everyone says."
The compliment caught me off guard, even though I knew Meredia was pretty. Still… hearing it from someone like Evelisse somehow felt different.
I smiled at her. "Thank you. Now come on. Mother's probably in the garden by now."
She nodded, and we stepped out together, making our way through the corridor until the sunlight and the scent of roses told us we'd found her.
Mother was seated beneath the pergola, papers in hand again.
I placed a gentle hand on Evelisse's back and nudged her forward. "Go on."
I watched her for a moment, then slipped away and headed toward the library.
It had been ages since I'd touched a single book for anything other than pretending to study. In my old world, history had always bored me to death, but Valkathra's? For some reason, I couldn't stop getting pulled in. The wars, the bloodlines, the temples, the magic…
I pushed open the library doors, welcomed by the familiar scent of old parchment and polished wood.
I curled into one of the cushioned window seats with a thick, leather-bound volume about Valkathra's early kings. The sunlight filtering in through the tall windows felt warm on my shoulders, and the quiet… honestly, the quiet was a blessing.
I kept reading, flipping page after page, until the words started blending together. My eyelids grew heavy.
Ugh… no… must… learn… history…
Yeah, no. The book slipped from my hands.
At some point, I drifted off.
I didn't even realize I'd fallen asleep until a sharp knock jolted me upright.
"Lady Meredia?"
I blinked hard, disoriented. My neck felt stiff from sleeping at the worst angle possible. Then I noticed the windows. the sky outside had darkened, streaked with the last hints of evening light.
I pushed my hair back and rubbed my eyes. "Yes–yes, I'm awake," I called, still groggy.
Another knock. "May I enter?"
I straightened, still half-asleep. "Yes, come in."
The door opened just a crack, and Evelisse peeked inside like a frightened kitten. When she saw I wasn't dead or drooling, she stepped in fully, clutching her hands together.
"I–I'm sorry to disturb you, my lady," she said, lowering her head.
I sat up properly on the window seat. "Evelisse? What happened? Did Mother—"
She nodded quickly, eyes brightening just a little. "The Duchess… she accepted me."
For a second, everything inside me lit up.
"Oh? Really? She did?"
Evelisse nodded again, more confidently this time. "She said I may serve you… as your lady-in-waiting."
Her voice cracked on the last few words, like she still couldn't believe it. Her cheeks were pink, and her shoulders trembled.
I couldn't help smiling. "That's amazing. See? I told you she isn't as terrifying as she looks."
Evelisse laughed softly, a tiny, breathy sound. "I… I'm very grateful, my lady. Truly."
I shook my head, sliding off the seat and walking toward her. "You earned it. And from now on, you don't need to tremble in front of her, okay?"
She pressed her lips together, fighting a smile. "I'll try, my lady."
I grinned. "Good. Now come on, let's get you settled before Romana sees you smile and faints from confusion."
I led Evelisse out into the hall, but the poor girl was still walking like every step might trigger a trapdoor.
"Relax," I whispered. "You're not being marched to execution."
She tried to nod casually… failed… and ended up looking like a bobblehead with stage fright.
We reached the end of the hallway where the servants usually passed through, and she finally exhaled, her shoulders loosening.
"I didn't think the Duchess would choose me," she admitted softly. "Everyone said she would never select someone with… my background."
I gave her a look. "Well, 'everyone' is usually wrong. Get used to proving them stupid."
Her eyes widened at my bluntness, but then she smiled. It was small, kind of shy, but real. And damn, she had one of those smiles that made you want to pick her up and protect her in your pocket like a stray kitten.
"You're very different from what I was told, my lady," she said honestly.
I arched a brow. "Oh? What did they say?"
She flushed. "That you were…harsh, prideful."
"Ah." I clicked my tongue. "That was old Meredia. I'm the limited-edition updated patch."
She blinked, not understanding a word, but the joke lightened her mood anyway.
We walked a little farther, and I stopped near the staircase. "Alright. Go get some rest. Tomorrow will be your first day shadowing me. I promise I won't throw you to the wolves."
She gave a tiny bow. "Good night, my lady."
"Good night, Evelisse."
She left, still shy, still nervous, but with a hint of hope in her steps.
I watched her go and let out a breath.
Okay… one potential ally secured. One future problem avoided. And one second prince accidentally brought into my circle.
Not bad for a day where I slept through half a history book.
I stretched my arms over my head.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Night had fully swallowed Arghanas Forest, leaving everything drowned in shadow, except the small clearing where the soldiers had made camp. Firelight flickered over tired faces, the smell of roasting meat drifted through the air, and half the camp was busy gossiping louder than they swung their swords.
Kairan and Kirill sat a little away from the chaos, close enough to hear the chatter, far enough to pretend they weren't part of it.
Kirill huffed for the fifth time in ten minutes, snatching up a fallen branch and brandishing it like a sword. "For the love of the gods! how many times do I have to tell you your grip is wrong? Your wrist is stiff."
Kairan didn't even look at him. "I've been holding a sword like this since I was nine," he replied, tone maddeningly calm.
Kirill shot him a look. "Right. Nine. Sometimes I genuinely forget you're the best swordsman in Valkathra."
Kairan didn't bother responding. He just leaned forward and nudged the fire with the empty skewer in his hand, the flames catching briefly in his eyes before dying back down.
Kirill let the silence stretch for a moment before he clicked his tongue dramatically. "You know what your problem is?" he tossed the stick aside. "You act bored even when you're not bored. It's annoying."
Kairan didn't lift his eyes. "I am bored."
"Lies," Kirill said, pointing at him like he'd caught a criminal. "Your jaw only clenches like that when you're thinking too much. what is going on in your mind?"
Kairan's jaw did, in fact, tick, just once, barely.
Kirill squinted at him, like he was trying to read microscopic print on Kairan's face. "Are you…" He paused, debated, then shrugged because consequences were for cowards. "Are you thinking about Princess?"
Kairan blinked, as if snapped out of some deep internal trench. "Huh? Princess?" His brows dipped.
"Yes," Kirill said, rolling his eyes, "Princess Artemisia." Mother said she's getting married soon. Maybe four months left before she's shipped off."
Kairan didn't respond. His face smoothed out, jaw unclenching, posture loosening just a shade as if something unspoken drifted through his mind. He opened his mouth like he had a thought worth sharing… then shut it again.
Which, obviously, meant Kirill refused to leave it alone.
"Does it bother you?" he pried, leaning forward like a nosy aunt at a wedding.
Kairan exhaled, slowly. "I do not… concern myself with her. I have other matters demanding my attention."
Kirill snorted. "Aww, that's cute and all, but you know matters of heart and mind can't exist together. One always messes with the other."
Kairan shot him a flat look, but edged with a don't-test-me warning. "Kirill," he said, tone dipped in royal patience, "you speak as if you have mastered either."
Kirill grinned, unbothered. "Someone has to compensate for your emotional drought."
Kairan didn't rise to it. Instead he looked back toward the forest. Eyes sharp, posture straightening again, a shift so subtle only someone who'd watched him grow up would notice. "Her marriage is irrelevant," he said quietly. "It changes nothing of importance."
Kirill watched him for a beat, his grin fading into something more thoughtful. "You say that," he murmured, "but your face says otherwise."
Kairan didn't reply.
The fire popped, sending a spark spiraling upward into the dark.
Kirill flicked another twig into the fire and watched it crackle. "And," he said, like he'd been dying to bring it up, "I even heard of princess's fiancé."
Kairan didn't react, just poked the fire with the empty skewer.
Kirill continued anyway, "His name's Nevan. Lord of the northern mountain range in Norville. Only heir to his house. Apparently he's brilliant, gentle, well-mannered, basically the kind of man mothers pray for."
Kairan didn't even look impressed. Just an almost bored glance at the flames.
Kirill clicked his tongue. "You really don't care? Not even a little?"
Nothing. Silence.
Kirill rolled his eyes and tossed another twig into the fire. "You know," he said casually, "if it were bothering you, you could just say it. I won't run around camp screaming 'Crown Prince has FEELINGS.'"
Kairan finally looked up, unimpressed. "Your restraint is not as reliable as you think."
Kirill opened his mouth to argue but a rustle near the tree line cut him off.
Both men turned.
A soldier jogged toward them, bow slung across his back, expression uneasy. "Your Highness, Sir Kirill," he said, stopping a few feet away. "There's… something moving east of the perimeter. We can't tell if it's an animal or red marked monster."
Kirill straightened immediately. "How far?"
"Not far. Close enough that the sentries heard branches snapping."
Kairan rose to his full height, shadows from the fire wrapping around him like a mantle. "Show me."
The soldier nodded and led them toward the darker edge of the camp.
Kirill marched beside Kairan, whisper-hissing, "See? This is why overthinking is useless. Forest doesn't give a damn about your princess issues, because something out there wants to eat us."
"I was not overthinking," Kairan murmured.
"You totally were."
Kairan didn't answer. But the faint twitch at the corner of his mouth said Kirill wasn't entirely wrong.
When they reached the perimeter, the forest stood unnaturally still like the trees were holding their breath. A few soldiers hovered with drawn weapons, eyes strained toward the shadows.
Kairan lifted a hand. "Lower your blades unless you intend to use them," he said quietly.
The soldiers obeyed instantly.
Kirill scanned the darkness. "Whatever it was, it's gone quiet. Hate that."
Kairan stepped forward, boots brushing over leaves. His gaze sharpened, ears listening to something deeper than sound itself.
Then—
A low, distant growl rippled through the trees.
The soldiers tensed.
Kirill muttered, "Oh great. Perfect timing."
Kairan didn't flinch. "Form a half-circle," he ordered. "No one moves until I say."
He drew his sword— a wicked, obsidian toned blade carved with ancient runes that pulsed a faint green, as if something inside it was breathing. The guard flared like hooked wings, each curve inlaid with silver filigree that shimmered against the dark metal. A faceted emerald stone sat in the hilt, glowing softly, casting eerie shards of green across the engraved ritual circle below.
Whatever had been stirring in the dark… hadn't gone far.