Oryen's heart thundered violently against her ribs as she ran through the castle corridors with Megan close behind her, their skirts lifted as they moved helter-skelter in search of Dydra. Panic tightened her chest with every step. She had gone to look for the red-haired girl the moment she finished the task Sandra had assigned her, only to find the room empty. There was no sign of Dydra, and Hugh was nowhere to be found either. That alone was enough to make dread coil in her stomach. She had tried to sense the young witch's energy, stretching her awareness as far as she dared, but it was faint—too faint. Almost as if it had faded entirely.
Where could she have gone?
This was Dydra's first time in the castle. She could have gotten lost, wandered into a restricted area without realizing it. Or worse—Oryen's breath hitched at the thought—what if a vampire had found her? What if, at this very moment, someone was feeding on her? The idea made her chest tighten painfully. She searched every corner servants were permitted to enter, slipping through side corridors, storage rooms, and unused hallways, but Dydra was nowhere to be found. Her steps slowed as despair crept in.
Did she run away?
The possibility lingered heavily in Oryen's mind. It was not impossible. Perhaps the young witch thought fleeing was the safest option. Perhaps she believed she would be better off alone. Oryen clenched her fists as the sky outside darkened further. Guards had begun patrolling the castle walls, ushering out servants who worked during the day and ensuring everyone obeyed the strict schedule. Day servants were required to leave; night servants were already taking their positions. With guards everywhere, Oryen knew she had no choice but to retreat. Still, as she and Megan finally turned back, her heart ached with worry. Wherever Dydra was, she prayed silently that the girl was safe.
Meanwhile, the red-haired girl's thoughts were far from calm.
Dydra bit down on her lower lip so hard it nearly hurt, her eyes squeezed shut as she pressed the elite's coat tightly over her face. Her body swayed gently with each step as she felt his firm arms holding her, one supporting her legs, the other steady against her back. He was carrying her. The realization alone made her pulse race. She had protested when he lifted her without warning, struggling weakly against him, but he had not budged. With servants still roaming the halls, she had been forced to hide her face beneath his coat to avoid drawing attention.
Even so, attention followed them.
Servants froze where they stood as the crown prince passed by with a woman in his arms. Whispers erupted the moment he disappeared from sight, disbelief lacing every hushed word. Leonard, the cold and untouchable prince, was carrying a woman? And judging by the worn fabric of her dress, she was no noble. She dressed like a servant. The shock spread quickly.
"Did you see that?"
"I thought my eyes were deceiving me."
"He never lets anyone near him."
"How could someone dressed like us be so close to the crown prince?"
As the murmurs grew, a blonde maid quietly slipped away from the group. She moved swiftly but carefully, her steps light against the marble as she made her way toward the queen's quarters. Her heart beat with anticipation rather than fear. Information was currency in the palace, and this was valuable. Reaching the door, she knocked softly.
"Who is it?" a voice called from inside.
"It's Lucinda, Your Grace," she replied gently, already imagining the reward.
"Come in."
Lucinda entered with her head bowed, not daring to raise it without permission. The silence stretched, heavy and deliberate.
"Speak," Queen Maye commanded.
"The crown prince was seen with a woman moments ago," Lucinda said at once. "He was carrying her in his arms. Her face was hidden, but the fabric of her dress was no better than what servants wear."
Silence followed, thick and suffocating.
"Is that all?" the queen asked coolly.
Lucinda's heart skipped. "Y-yes, Your Highness."
A sharp clink echoed across the floor as a silver coin landed near her feet. Her eyes lit up instantly. She grabbed it, bowing repeatedly as the queen waved her away. Lucinda left the room with a satisfied smile, already counting her gain.
Queen Maye reclined against her pillows, her fingers tapping lightly against the silk sheets. Leonard carrying a woman? The thought was almost laughable. Snow falling in the desert would have been more believable. Whoever this girl was, she had managed to do what no one else ever had. That alone made her dangerous. Maye's lips curved slightly. She would need to learn more.
Leonard closed the door behind him and the room fell into darkness. Being a creature of the night, he navigated easily, moving toward the bed and gently lowering Dydra onto it. The moment her body touched the soft silk mattress, a shiver ran through her. The sensation was foreign—comforting in a way she wasn't used to. She barely had time to process it before he stepped away.
Leonard lit a few candles, warm golden light flickering to life and chasing away the shadows. When Dydra realized she was on his bed, she jolted upright and quickly stood, clutching the coat around her tighter. She bowed deeply, her voice trembling but sincere.
"Thank you for what you did," she said. "I will repay you however I can, my lord. But I won't impose any further. I should take my leave."
Leonard studied her silently. Her thin frame, the way she kept her head lowered, the distance she deliberately placed between them—it all irritated him more than he cared to admit. She wasn't like the others. Most women would have clung to him, tried to use the situation to their advantage. But she wanted nothing more than to escape. His mind drifted back to the look in her eyes earlier—fear stripped bare, hope nearly extinguished. Something twisted painfully in his chest.
He said nothing as he turned toward his wardrobe, retrieving a clean shirt and trousers. He tossed them onto the bed. "A bath has already been prepared," he said. "Put this on."
He didn't look at her as he moved to the door. Her heartbeat was erratic, loud in his ears, and he knew what she was thinking even before she spoke. He paused with his hand on the knob.
"The only reason you'd reject the offer," he added quietly, "is if you want me in the bath with you."
Before she could respond, he stepped out and locked the door behind him.
Dydra stood frozen in the center of the room, heart racing, coat clutched to her chest. For the first time since arriving at the castle, she felt something unfamiliar stir within her chest.
Safety.
And that frightened her more than anything else.