They walked in silence.
The garden wall shielded them now. The crowd, the mutters, the eyes-all behind.
Only the crunch of gravel under their boots remained.
Jinn didn't speak. She didn't need to. Her body was calm, her steps even. Her fingers... a little tight at her sides.
Beside her, Kaelvar finally broke the silence.
"Miss Envoy... are you alright?"
She didn't look at him.
"I'm fine."
A lie, maybe. But not one she'd bother explaining.
Another few steps. He looked her way again.
"You didn't say anything. Not even when they questioned you."
She remembered that moment-one woman's voice, the murmurs that followed. Jinn hadn't flinched.
"No point," she said flatly. "They already decided what to believe."
Kaelvar frowned but kept walking.
"You still stood there like it didn't bother you."
"It did."
She kept her eyes forward. "I just don't let it show."
They turned down a quieter path, where sunlight filtered through sparse trees. The air was cooler here.
"People expect too much from someone they barely know," he said.
Jinn gave a small breath, more exhale than sigh.
"And when you disappoint them, they act like you broke a promise you never made."
That made him laugh, barely. A short breath with a flicker of a smile.
Then his steps slowed-only slightly, but enough to notice.
"...That's familiar," he muttered.
She turned her head, side-glanced him.
"Sounds personal."
"It is."
He didn't elaborate right away. Didn't need to.
His expression shifted, softer at the edges.
"When I was seven," he said finally, "I got sick. Badly.
High fever. Hallucinations. Thought I'd die.
Didn't see my father once. Not even a letter."
Jinn stayed quiet. She didn't rush him.
"When I recovered, no one said, 'rest well,' or 'glad you're alive.'
Just-'Good. Now catch up.'"
Her jaw moved slightly, but no words came.
He kept going.
"By fifteen, I was told if I couldn't outdo my younger brother, I'd be exiled.
One of the tutors even said... death would be simpler."
A pause.
"Sounds like they wanted a tool," she said, "not a son."
Kaelvar glanced at her. Something in his eyes softened, but he gave a hollow smile.
"Exactly."
He looked ahead again.
"So I became useful. Learned what pleased them.
Politics. Appearances. Obedience."
A breath. "Now I'm here. Not because I want the crown.
I just don't know what I want anymore.
Or if I ever had a choice."
They walked in silence again.
The wind shifted. A leaf broke from a branch above and landed near Jinn's boot.
She looked ahead. Then spoke.
"Then stop chasing what they want."
He turned to her, surprised. "And do what?"
"Figure out what you want." Her voice stayed steady. "Then walk that way.
Even if it's small. Even if no one claps."
He blinked, like he wasn't sure he heard her right.
"...That simple?"
"No," she said. "But it's honest."
A few more steps. Neither of them spoke.
Then she added, quieter now:
"You're not a puppet. You're still breathing."
That landed. She could feel it-not through words, but the shift in his pace, his posture, the way he stayed beside her a little more loosely now.
She didn't smile. But her shoulders eased.
Jinn (thought):
He's not weak. Just raised in a cage.
Didn't snap. He bent.
Crown or not, he's still one of us. Just trying to survive expectations.
And me? I just want to finish my tasks. Go back to the guild. Stay out of this royal mess.
...Still. He listened.
---
A few steps behind...
Alice watched them silently.
She clasped her hands behind her back, trying to keep a straight face, but her eyes kept drifting toward the pair.
He's never walked like that before...
He's even matching her pace.
Maybe, maybe it's not just duty.
Her lips tightened. Ugh. No. Don't think like that.
But they really do look... good together.
Stupid feelings.
She puffed a quiet breath, cheeks warm, then looked away quickly as if scolding herself.
---
Beside her, the Advisor was frowning.
He watched Kaelvar's posture, Jinn's tone, the spacing between their steps.
Efficient. Calm. Natural.
He slowed the pace on purpose.
Creating space from us. Gaining her trust.
Letting her open up-gathering information discreetly.
As expected from His Highness. Calculated.
Then a pause.
...Unless he's actually enjoying it.
No, focus. It's still useful data.
---
The two walked in sync.
Behind them-one dreamed of romance. The other suspected espionage.
Neither said a word.
The gap between thoughts couldn't be wider.