Outside, beneath a sky still swollen with moonlight and drifting smoke, the night refused to slow its pace for mercy.
Stephanie dropped to her knees beside Oscar the moment his body struck the stone at the foot of the stairs, the impact echoing far louder in her ears than it should have. Her hands moved before her thoughts could catch up, fingers trembling as they pressed against his chest and shoulder, searching for proof that he was still breathing, still here, still hers to lose. Blood seeped steadily through the dark fabric of his cloak, warm and slick beneath her palms, and the sight of it made panic bloom sharp and fast in her throat.
"Oscar," she whispered urgently, her voice cracking despite her effort to keep it steady. "Look at me. Please tell me you're okay."
His head lolled for a heartbeat as the world reeled around him, the fall and the pain colliding into a nauseating haze that threatened to pull him under. The palace lights blurred into streaks, the courtyard tilting as though the ground itself had lost its balance. He sucked in a breath that burned like fire through his lungs and forced his eyes open, focusing on her face as if it were the only solid thing left in existence.
"I've been better," he muttered, trying for humor and failing as pain flared anew through his shoulder.
Stephanie let out a shaky breath that might have been a laugh if fear had not already claimed it. "You're bleeding," she said, stating the obvious because saying anything else felt impossible. "You're bleeding a lot."
"I noticed," he replied through clenched teeth as he tried to push himself upright, muscles protesting violently.
She moved instinctively, slipping under his good arm and bracing his weight against her own smaller frame, ignoring the way her legs trembled with the effort. Together they struggled to their feet, Oscar swaying unsteadily as the night spun around him, his injured shoulder screaming with every movement. He planted his boots against the stone and forced himself upright, breath ragged, vision narrowing as he fought to remain standing.
Slow, measured footsteps descended the stairs behind them.
Commander Cedric Highgarden emerged fully into the courtyard light, bastard sword held loosely but ready in his grip, its blade darkened with Oscar's blood. His gaze flicked over the scene with a soldier's efficiency, noting the princess at Oscar's side, the way she supported him without hesitation, the way Oscar instinctively angled himself between her and danger even while wounded.
Understanding dawned, followed by something colder.
"Just a I thought," Cedric said, his voice calm despite the chaos that still echoed faintly from within the palace. "You planned this together."
Stephanie straightened as much as she could without letting go of Oscar, fear hardening into fury as she met Cedric's gaze. "We did," she said, her voice rising with desperation and resolve. "And you need to stop this right now."
Cedric continued his slow descent, the sword glinting faintly with each step. "I cannot do that, Your Highness," he replied evenly. "Your father has ordered me to retrieve you and return you to safety."
"Safety," she repeated bitterly. "Is that what you call forcing me into a marriage against my will?"
Cedric did not flinch, though his eyes flickered briefly with something like regret. "I call it duty," he said. "And tonight, duty outweighs my personal feelings on the matter."
Oscar shifted, pain flashing across his face as he tightened his grip around Stephanie's shoulders and gently but firmly moved her behind him. He stood as straight as he could manage, blood soaking into his cloak, his stance defiant despite the obvious disadvantage.
"She isn't going anywhere," Oscar said, his voice rough but unwavering. "Not with you, not with the king, and not with some political scheme dressed up as destiny. She's made her choice, and you don't get to take that from her."
Cedric stopped several steps away, studying Oscar with new intensity. "You speak boldly for a man bleeding on palace stone," he observed. "You must understand the position you have placed yourself in."
Oscar snorted, the sound edged with pain and bitter amusement. "I understand it perfectly," he replied. "You're here to drag her back to a life she never wanted, and you're willing to cut me down to do it."
"I am willing to do what must be done," Cedric said, his gaze hardening. "However, I am not without mercy."
He straightened slightly, the sword lowering a fraction as he addressed Oscar directly. "You have orchestrated something elaborate and reckless," Cedric continued. "You have endangered the palace, humiliated the crown, and involved the princess in a scheme that will shake this kingdom to its foundation. Despite that, I will give you one chance."
Stephanie's heart hammered in her chest as she listened, dread coiling tighter with every word.
"You may leave here alive," Cedric said. "If the princess returns to the palace willingly and without further resistance. Walk away now, and this ends."
Silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating.
Oscar laughed, the sound sharp and sudden, echoing strangely in the open courtyard. It hurt to laugh, but the absurdity of the offer demanded it. "Walk away so you can hunt me down later," he said incredulously. "That's generous."
Cedric's eyes darkened. "Decline, and you die here," he said flatly.
Oscar's smile faded as he reached with his good arm toward his belt, fingers closing around the hilt of his hunting knife. He drew it free in one smooth motion, the blade catching the moonlight as he brought it up defensively. The knife was well-made and balanced, nearly ten inches of sharpened steel with a thick spine and a grip worn smooth by use, designed for utility and survival rather than dueling.
"I was really hoping it wouldn't come to this," Oscar admitted, his heart pounding hard enough to drown out everything else.
Cedric shifted his stance, bastard sword rising into a ready position that spoke of years of training and battlefield experience. "You are clearly acquainted with the princess," he said coolly. "Enough to attempt something like this. That makes you dangerous."
Stephanie stepped forward despite Oscar's attempt to shield her, tears streaking down her cheeks as fear and anger warred within her. "Stop," she pleaded, her voice breaking. "Please. You don't have to do this."
Cedric did not look at her. "I am sorry, Your Highness," he said quietly. "But I do."
The moment stretched thin, the air between them vibrating with tension, and then it shattered.
Cedric moved first, closing the distance with terrifying speed as his sword swept toward Oscar in a powerful horizontal arc. Oscar barely had time to react, raising his knife to intercept the blow. Steel rang against steel in a jarring clash that sent shockwaves up Oscar's arm and nearly wrenched the blade from his grip.
Pain exploded through his wounded shoulder as he stumbled back, boots scraping against stone. Cedric pressed the advantage immediately, his larger frame and longer reach forcing Oscar into a defensive retreat. Each strike of the bastard sword carried weight and precision, honed by countless battles, while Oscar's movements were sharp but unrefined, driven by instinct rather than formal training.
Oscar slashed back with his knife, aiming low and fast, forcing Cedric to adjust his footing. The blade grazed Cedric's sleeve but found no purchase, and Cedric responded with a swift backhand strike that caught Oscar across the ribs. The impact stole the breath from his lungs and sent him staggering sideways.
Stephanie cried out, hands clasped over her mouth as she watched Oscar struggle to keep his footing. "Oscar, please," she whispered, helpless and terrified. "Please don't let him hurt you."
Oscar gritted his teeth and forced himself upright, blood dripping steadily from his shoulder now, staining the stone beneath his boots. He tightened his grip on the knife, breath coming in harsh, uneven gasps as he faced Cedric once more.
"I'm not losing here tonight," he said hoarsely, more to himself than to anyone else.
Cedric advanced again, eyes locked on Oscar's stance, already reading his weaknesses. Another exchange followed, knife scraping desperately against sword, sparks flashing briefly in the moonlight. Oscar managed to deflect the worst of the blow but not before the edge of Cedric's blade bit shallowly into his forearm, drawing another line of blood.
Stephanie sobbed softly, tears blurring her vision as she watched the fight unfold, knowing with terrifying clarity how uneven it was. She looked around desperately, searching for anything, that might help, but the courtyard remained a chaos of smoke, distant shouts, and confused onlookers too stunned to intervene.
The fight was only beginning, and the night showed no sign of mercy as steel rang out once more beneath the watching moon.