The marketplace was louder than usual.
Not with laughter—but with fear dressed as gossip.
"…they say the princess disappeared at dawn." "…the prince still hasn't woken." "…someone will pay for this."
Lysandra stood near a fruit stall, hood pulled low, fingers clenched around a loaf of bread she no longer had any appetite for. Every whispered word scraped against her nerves.
So it's already chaos…
She should have known. A missing princess and an unconscious crown prince were enough to tear the city open.
Then the noise shifted.
Boots.
Heavy. Organized. Marching.
The crowd parted instinctively.
Steel flashed beneath the sun.
Lysandra's heart dropped into her stomach.
Knights.
Royal knights.
At their head—tall, composed, terrifyingly calm—walked Serena.
Her armor gleamed. Her cape moved with every step like a shadow given form. Her eyes swept the market with sharp precision, unreadable and cold.
She looked like judgment.
Lysandra's breath caught.
Of course it's her.
The council wouldn't send anyone else.
Serena raised a hand. The knights stopped instantly.
Her voice carried—clear, steady, merciless.
"By order of the High Council, all gatherings discussing royal matters are to be dispersed immediately."
The murmurs didn't stop.
Someone scoffed.
"What, are we not allowed to talk now?" "They poison a prince and expect silence?"
That was a mistake.
Serena's gaze snapped to the speaker.
"You," she said. "Step forward."
The man hesitated.
Serena didn't.
She gestured sharply. Two knights seized him.
The crowd erupted.
"What are you doing?!" "He just spoke!" "This is madness!"
Serena's jaw tightened.
"Arrest them," she ordered. "All who incite unrest."
Panic exploded.
People screamed. Crates toppled. Someone fell.
Lysandra was pushed hard from behind and stumbled, nearly hitting the ground.
"No—wait!" a woman cried. "Please!"
A child screamed for his mother.
Something in Lysandra snapped.
She stepped forward without thinking.
"Stop!"
The word cut through the chaos like a blade.
Serena turned.
Their eyes met.
For one breathless second, the world narrowed to just the two of them.
Serena frowned—not in anger, but in confusion.
She stared at Lysandra like she was a puzzle piece that didn't belong anywhere… yet felt familiar.
"You," Serena said slowly. "Who are you?"
Lysandra swallowed.
Just a commoner. Just Lysa.
"My name is Lysa," she said, forcing her voice steady. "These people didn't poison anyone. You're arresting fear, not criminals."
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
Serena studied her closely.
Too closely.
"You speak boldly for someone without rank," Serena said.
"And you act brutally for someone sworn to protect the people," Lysandra shot back before she could stop herself.
A sharp intake of breath spread through the market.
One wrong word could get her killed.
Serena stepped closer.
"You should choose your words carefully."
Up close, Serena was even more overwhelming. Her presence was heavy, commanding—but there was something else beneath it.
Weariness.
Anger.
Grief.
Lysandra saw it in her eyes—and it shook her.
"I am," Lysandra said quietly. "That's why I spoke."
Silence fell.
Serena stared at her.
For a moment, Lysandra thought she might be struck down.
Instead, Serena did something unexpected.
She looked away.
"…Release the civilians," Serena said after a pause. "Take statements instead."
The knights hesitated.
"Yes, Commander."
Relief swept the crowd.
But Serena's gaze returned to Lysandra—sharp and assessing.
"You," she said. "You're coming with me."
Lysandra's heart slammed.
"For what?" she asked.
"For interfering with a royal operation," Serena replied evenly. "And for knowing too much."
She turned to her men.
"She'll work under my watch until further notice."
Under her watch?
Lysandra's pulse roared in her ears.
That wasn't imprisonment.
That was worse.
Serena leaned closer, her voice low enough that only Lysandra could hear.
"Something about you doesn't add up," she murmured. "And I intend to find out what it is."
Lysandra met her gaze.
So close now.
So dangerous.
"Then I suppose," Lysandra said softly, "we'll both be disappointed."
Serena stiffened.
For reasons she couldn't explain, that answer unsettled her.
As the knights escorted them away, Lysandra felt it—
the invisible thread tightening.
She had escaped the palace.
But fate?
Fate had just found her again.
And this time…
It wore Serena's face.