I'm here to explain

She was pretty in a simple way, with hair pulled back in a neat bun and curious brown eyes.

When she saw me, she smiled and nodded respectfully.

"Good evening, sir," she said in a soft voice.

This was my chance.

"Good evening, miss," I replied, allowing my fake Sarmentian accent to come through.

The polished tones of my noble upbringing had served me well in many situations, and I could see the immediate effect they had on the maid.

Her eyes widened slightly, and a faint blush colored her cheeks.

"I don't believe we've met," I continued, offering her my most charming smile. "I'm new to the night watch, and I'm afraid I'm quite turned around in these corridors. They're far more grand than I'm accustomed to."

The maid's blush deepened, and she tucked a strand of escaped hair behind her ear. "Oh, you're very kind, sir. The castle can be confusing at first. Where were you trying to get to?"

"I've been asked to check on the security of the royal quarters," I said smoothly. "Princess Stella's chambers, specifically. But I'm embarrassed to say I have no idea where they might be."

For a moment, the maid looked uncertain, and I worried that I had overplayed my hand. But then her expression cleared, and she pointed down the corridor to our left.

"Princess Stella's rooms are in the east wing, sir. Take this corridor to the end, then up the grand staircase to the third floor. Her chambers are the large doors at the end of the hall—you can't miss them. They have the royal crest carved into the wood."

"You're an absolute angel," I said, giving her another smile that made her giggle softly. "Thank you so much for your help."

"It was my pleasure, sir," she said, still blushing as she continued on her way.

I waited until she was out of sight, then set off in the direction she had indicated.

The east wing, third floor, doors with the royal crest.

Simple enough.

The grand staircase she had mentioned was indeed grand—a sweeping curve of white marble with a banister of polished gold. I took the steps two at a time, my heart racing with anticipation.

Soon, very soon, I would see Stella again. Now that he was getting closer, her scent got stronger and intoxicating. She was like a drug that he needed to take so badly.

The third floor was quieter than the levels below, with thicker carpets that muffled sound and fewer lights to break the shadows.

This was clearly the private residential area of the castle, where the royal family lived away from the public spaces below.

I found the corridor the maid had described without difficulty, and sure enough, at the far end stood a pair of massive doors carved with an intricate royal crest.

Even from a distance, I could see the quality of the craftsmanship, the way the carved lion and crown seemed to leap from the wood in the flickering light of the wall sconces.

My heart was pounding now, not from exertion but from anticipation.

In just a few moments, I would be face to face with Stella again. I would have the chance to explain, to make her understand, to convince her that we belonged together despite our differences.

I approached the doors silently, testing the handle with careful fingers.

To my surprise, it turned easily.

Either Stella felt secure enough in her own castle not to lock her doors, or this was another part of whatever game she might be playing.

I eased the door open just wide enough to slip through, then closed it softly behind me.

The room beyond was magnificent.

Tall windows draped in silk let in the moonlight, illuminating furniture that was clearly fit for royalty.

A massive four-poster bed dominated one wall, while elegant chairs and a writing desk occupied the space near the windows.

And there, standing in the center of the room as if she had been waiting for me, was Stella.

She must have sensed that I was approaching her, as my scent must have gave away - perks of mating bond.

She was even more beautiful than I remembered, her auburn hair loose around her shoulders and her green eyes bright with something that might have been anticipation.

She wore a simple white nightgown that somehow made her look more regal than any crown could have.

But what captured my attention immediately was the weapon in her hand.

A red dagger, its blade gleaming with what I instinctively knew was poison, was aimed directly at my heart.

Her grip was steady, professional, deadly.

"Listen, my love," I said quickly, raising my hands to show I meant no harm. "I'm only here to explain."