Morning in Iniko Palace was merciless.
Trumpets pierced the air. Silk banners unfurled from golden balconies. Nobles filled the grand hall in shimmering fabrics, eager for spectacle.
At the center stood the royal family of Iniko and the visiting royals of Olanre Kingdom.
Prince Aren stood tall — composed, unreadable.
Inside, he was unraveling.
Across the hall, Serah stood behind Princess Ireti, face calm, eyes empty. She did not look at him.
Not once.
The King's voice boomed through the chamber.
"Today, we strengthen our bloodline and our future. The Fourth Prince of Iniko shall wed Princess Ireti of Olanre."
Applause erupted.
Aren felt it like thunder against his ribs.
Princess Ireti stepped forward gracefully, bowing her head slightly. She was beautiful. Elegant. Perfectly trained for this moment.
And utterly unfamiliar.
Malik watched from the side, eyes sharp.
He was smiling.
Later — The Corridor of Ivory Columns
Aren moved quickly through the palace corridors, ignoring whispers.
He found her near the training courtyard.
"Why didn't you look at me?" he asked.
Serah didn't turn.
"Because I follow orders."
"That wasn't an order."
"It will be."
Her voice was steady — but her fingers tightened slightly around the leather strap of her blade sheath.
"You're pushing me away."
"I'm protecting you."
"From what?"
Her eyes finally met his.
"From my truth."
Silence.
Then—
Bootsteps echoed.
Malik appeared at the far end of the corridor, slow and deliberate.
"Well," he said smoothly, "this is interesting."
Serah stepped back instantly, posture rigid.
Aren didn't move.
Malik circled them like a predator studying prey.
"Little brother, do you know who you're standing so close to?"
Aren's jaw tightened. "I know exactly who she is."
Malik smiled.
"No," he said softly. "You don't."
He turned to Serah.
"Tell him."
Her face went pale for the first time.
"Tell him," Malik repeated, voice sharp now.
Aren looked between them. "Tell me what?"
Malik's voice dropped into something dangerous.
"She is not merely an escort."
The air shifted.
Aren's pulse slowed.
"Captain Serah Adeyemi," Malik continued, "is the illegitimate daughter of Olanre's late king."
Silence crashed over the corridor.
Aren blinked.
Serah's lips pressed thin.
"She was hidden," Malik said. "Trained in the military wing. Erased from official records. If her existence becomes public, Olanre faces internal rebellion."
Aren stared at her.
"Is it true?"
Her voice was barely above a whisper.
"Yes."
The world tilted.
"You're… royalty?"
"By blood," she said bitterly. "Not by right."
Malik stepped closer to Aren.
"Do you understand now?" he murmured. "If you choose her, you destabilize two kingdoms."
Aren's chest rose and fell slowly.
"And if I don't?" he asked.
Malik's smile widened.
"Then she remains a shadow. As she was meant to be."