In the middle of the night, Cassian barged into what had been a peaceful moment between Elira and Sylas. Without a hint of subtlety, he plonked himself down squarely between them, adopting the posture of a sulky child desperate for attention. In truth, though, Cassian's mischief was fuelled by jealousy—he couldn't bear seeing Elira sharing such a tender moment with his best friend right here, under the tranquil moonlight in the garden.
At first, he had merely intended to take a quiet stroll among the roses, to breathe in some fresh air after the exhaustion of a long day's work. But the sight of the two of them together made him halt abruptly.
"Dammit, Cassian! It's too tight!" Sylas grumbled, squirming as Cassian pressed against him, shoulder bumping in a rather desperate bid to impress Elira.
Meanwhile, Elira waved her hand awkwardly, a polite but uneasy smile tugging at her lips. She hadn't expected Cassian to turn up, and the surprise made her cheeks flush faintly.
"Why are you here, anyway, Sylas?" Cassian demanded, his bottom lip jutting out in a dramatic pout. His eyes flicked between the two of them, landing on the wooden boxes they carried, clearly prepared for a late-night dinner.
"Wait… are you two having dinner without inviting me?" His tone was mock-offended, ridiculously childish, and utterly transparent in its hurt.
Elira's gaze swept over him, noting his palace attire—still pristine, as though he'd been working overtime. She forced a smile, though her heart fluttered nervously at Cassian's pout.
"No, we didn't mean to leave you out," she said, trying to sound casual, though her lips trembled slightly. "I just thought… you'd already eaten. The servants wouldn't possibly forget to serve the Crown Prince his dinner, right?"
Cassian's pout deepened, and he lifted his chin, recalling with sudden clarity that indeed, a meal had been delivered to him—but he had skipped it, intent on finishing his tasks.
"Hmmm…" Cassian grunted like a sulky child, drawing an exasperated sigh from Sylas.
"You fool," Sylas said coldly, the muscles in his jaw tightening. "You didn't eat your dinner, and you rushed here?"
"I guess…" Cassian murmured, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment. The sight was comical enough to make Elira chuckle quietly to herself, caught between the two stubborn men and their ridiculous argument.
Unable to resist, she offered her own modest meal to Cassian. "Here…" she said, holding out her box. His eyes widened in surprise, and a grin slowly spread across his face.
"If you're truly hungry, you can have this," she continued, cheeks warm with embarrassment. "It's… not as fancy as Sylas's dinner in his box, ehehe."
The hard-headed prince's smile turned into one of genuine delight. It was an honor, he thought, that Elira had offered him her food. "It's an honor indeed, to share a meal with a lady like you, Elira. I'd rather eat from your hands than from that old hag at my back," he teased, glancing pointedly at Sylas.
Sylas's veins twitched visibly, a red flush rising to his temples, but Cassian didn't notice—he was too busy enjoying the victory of his playful jibe.
At last, the three of them settled into a peaceful, if slightly chaotic, dinner. As usual, Cassian and Sylas bickered incessantly over trivial matters, the squabble loud enough to make Elira stifle her laughter. She couldn't help but be entertained by their antics—two grown men acting like children, yet somehow, it only made the night all the more endearing.
As the three continued their midnight meal, Cassian finally broke the silence, eager to spark a conversation with Elira.
"So, Elira…" he began, chewing thoughtfully on his food, a mischievous glint flickering in his eyes. "How has your work been here in the palace? Have the servants been particularly trying, or have they been piling extra tasks on you behind my back?"
Sylas's jaw tightened at Cassian's words, irritation flickering across his otherwise calm face.
"You fool," Sylas said coldly, his voice low and steady. "Even if Elira is having a hard time, even if the chores tire her out, you can't simply interfere like that. Remember—she is a servant, and you are the prince." He continued eating his dried berries with deliberate composure, though the tension in his posture was clear.
Cassian shrugged, feigning innocence. "What's the problem? It's my responsibility to check on the servants here, you know."
Elira smiled gently, trying to ease the rising tension. "No, Cassian, it's really fine. Everyone has been kind to me, especially Mariel, the leader of the household chores." Her words carried warmth, and even Cassian felt a slight pang of relief. He hadn't wanted Elira to struggle within the palace walls—truthfully, he wanted her nearby so he could see her every day.
"Are you certain, Elira? Just tell us if you need anything," Sylas said, his tone cool, yet there was a subtle undercurrent of concern. Cassian, meanwhile, gave her a soft, encouraging smile.
Elira felt an odd warmth in her chest. How fortunate she was, having two friends she could rely on. Yet deep down, she knew she must face her own challenges without taking advantage of Cassian and Sylas's kindness. A small, determined smile tugged at her lips.
"Thank you, Cassian and Sylas. I truly appreciate it," she said, her words gentle. The night breeze swept through, stirring strands of her hair around her face. The faint flush on her cheeks caught the moonlight, giving her an almost angelic glow. Both Cassian and Sylas found themselves momentarily captivated, their own cheeks tinged with warmth as they admired her quiet beauty.
"I think it's time for us to go," Sylas said, finally rising from his seat. He could no longer linger, though a part of him hesitated, lost in thought. It was time to return to their chambers. Even so, his heart skipped a beat at the sight of Elira, so radiant that it left him momentarily flustered. He quickly averted his gaze, careful not to let her notice the effect she had on him.
"Elira, you should rest now," Sylas added. Cassian, having finished his own meal, stood as well, the two of them guiding her gently. The night had been long, and with the Empress's birthday celebration only three days away, she would need her strength.
Once they reached the hallway, Sylas decided it was best to part ways.
"I'll leave you two here, Cassian," Sylas said, fixing him with a sharp glare, much like a father warning a wayward son. "Do not get too close to Elira. You never know what others might think if they see the two of you together." He raised an eyebrow, his tone stern yet undeniably protective.
Cassian, however, simply scrunched up his face, rolling his eyes in mock exasperation at Sylas's lecture, clearly unimpressed by the warning.
"Good night, Sylas," Elira replied with a polite, warm smile.
"Good night, Elira," Sylas muttered, allowing a faint curve to his lips. He resisted the urge to tease her, holding back with an effort before turning and walking away in the opposite direction.
Left alone in the hallway, Cassian and Elira exchanged a glance. Their chambers lay in the same direction, and a quiet intimacy settled between them as they walked side by side, the night air carrying the soft rustle of their footsteps.
"Anyway, I heard there's a festival in the capital in three days," Cassian said, stretching both arms behind his head as he leaned back slightly.
"Yes…" Elira replied, a soft smile on her lips, her eyes half-closed as she strolled slowly down the hallway. "And I imagine there will be so many people going to the festival."
"Don't you want to go?" Cassian asked curiously, glancing at her as he tilted his head. For a moment, memories tugged at him—the times he had wandered the capital with Elira, when they were alone, dancing beneath fireworks that lit up the night. He recalled the way he had been drawn to her then, completely captivated.
"I do, but…" Elira stopped mid-step, realization dawning on her. In just three days, it would be the Empress's birthday.
"But?" Cassian prompted, raising an eyebrow.
"It's the Empress's birthday, you know," Elira said, forcing a small smile. She had wanted to attend the festival with Mrs. Joana and the others, but it would be impossible. During the celebrations, all the servants would be busy, leaving no time for anything else.
"What's the point? You're not even a hall maid. If you want, I can go with you," Cassian offered boldly. Elira's eyes widened in surprise at how forward he was.
"No, Cassian," she said, waving her hand gently, refusing his offer. A small pang of disappointment brushed Cassian's chest; he had assumed she would agree.
"I can't possibly ask you that… you're the Crown Prince. What if someone sees us?" Elira added, her voice cautious. Every movement she made had to be careful, especially around Cassian. She didn't want anyone in the palace to misunderstand—they were, after all, just close friends.
"Then I might disguise myself as a servant," Cassian teased lightly, a playful spark in his eyes.
"You silly… I wonder what you'd look like dressed as a servant," Elira chuckled softly, shaking her head as they continued walking down the hallway.
But little did they know, a passing maid had caught sight of them—whispering, laughing, far too close for comfort. Her eyes narrowed as she lingered a moment longer, the wheels of suspicion already turning in her mind…
As Sylas returned to his chamber, he changed into his nightclothes and brushed his hair with a wet towel, far too weary to take a proper bath. He paused for a moment by the window, gazing at the moon. Yet tonight, the moon's beauty barely registered—his mind was elsewhere.
Elira's smile lingered stubbornly in his thoughts. A knot of unease twisted in his chest, knowing she worked in the palace and that Cassian—stubborn as ever—could easily cause her trouble if he refused to restrain himself. Sylas found himself torn. Part of him wanted to stay close to Elira, to protect her, but another part of him wrestled with feelings he could neither name nor understand. Did he see her as family… or something far more?
"Damn… I'm probably just exhausted," Sylas murmured under his breath, trying desperately to push thoughts of her aside. Yet the more he tried, the faster his heart seemed to race, betraying him with a rhythm he could not ignore.
With a heavy sigh, he finally lay down, closing his eyes and attempting to force sleep, hoping it might dull the storm of feelings he could neither escape nor fully comprehend.