LOGINLucianThe music that had filled the courtyard minutes ago had been violently silenced and replaced by the panicked shouts of the guests who came from far and near to witness the blooming of the moon flowers. My heart was a frantic drumbeat against my ribs as I desperately searched for Layla. The simple harvest festival, meant to be a quiet and joyous day of celebration before the winter set in, had descended into utter chaos. I realised, with a chilling certainty, why the King and Queen had been suddenly absent from their chairs. They had been discreetly forewarned of a potential threat, and their sworn knightguard had followed protocol, whisking them into the sanctuary of the inner palace for safety.A voice cut through the clamour as I heard. "We caught the group of assassins."It was General Campbell with his face grim was now reporting to Prince Maxwell, who was already fully clad in his silver-and-blue royal armour."Keep them in the cage. I shall interrogate them later," Maxwe
Layla“Where were you?” I asked Sora, my voice low. The grand hall of the banquet felt suddenly too loud and too crowded. The main programme of singing and dancing was about to begin, but the king and Queen were not there. Sora turned to me with her smile wide and conspiratorial. My husband, Lucian, was a few feet away, deep in conversation with another knight, their faces etched with a seriousness that contrasted sharply with the surrounding celebration.“I went to bring you news,” she said, her voice barely a breath against my ear.“News?” I repeated, my curiosity instantly piqued.She smiled cleverly, her eyes dancing with mischief. "Everyone is taking a walk, Princess. Shall we take one as well?"Rosie shifted uncomfortably beside me. “It's advisable not to leave the banquet, Princess. The King and Queen may return at any moment.”"The Queen and King are not here. They will come again in sometime. We shall come by then,” Sora countered, dismissively waving a hand. Before I could
Layla My anger surged fully then. My eyes burned, and I knew I was shaking, though I refused to show it openly. Lucian sensed it immediately. His hand came up, so warm and gentle, as he began rubbing slow circles against my back.“Don’t be angry,” he murmured near my ear. “I am here.”His voice grounded me, but the hurt remained sharp. My husband could have died. No apology could erase that truth. No explanation could soften it.I would not forgive them.But my heart warmed as Lucian calmed me down. Princess Elena’s lips thinned. “Cam is a bastard,” she snapped. “What right did he have to heal anyone? He was not even properly taught. He broke family rules. He should be grateful he is still alive.”Her words were cold and unforgivable.I smiled at her choice of words. “Does your family allow women to treat the injured?” I asked.The question caught her off guard. She had no clue about where I was going with this conversation. She hesitated before answering. “Only unmarried women,” s
LaylaI looked around instinctively, my eyes searching the crowd for familiar faces. Sora had accompanied me today, along with Rosie. Rosie stood a little behind me, her posture straight and her hands folded neatly in front of her. She was very quiet and easily slipped into the background, as if that was where she belonged. But Sora was nowhere to be seen.My gaze swept across the garden again, moving past nobles and servants, but I did not find her. I gestured to Rosie, who had no idea as well. I waited for half an hour. Still no sign of her.I was about to turn to Lucian to ask when a couple approached us from the side. They slowed as they neared, their steps were measured, their expressions were carefully composed. Something about them tugged at my memory before recognition fully settled in.“Brother. Sister-in-law.”I remember the woman. On our wedding day, she was the one who ran as soon as she saw an injured Ser Calhoun. She gave him first aid because experiences healer took con
Third POVIn the past few days, the commoners of the great Lunaris kingdom had found a new subject for gossip. It passed from tea stalls to market corners, from riverbanks to servant quarters, whispered in hushed tones and spoken boldly where anger overpowered fear. One name repeated again and again—the Hawthorne family.The question on everyone’s lips was simple but dangerous: How could they treat the defender of the kingdom like this?Prince Lucian Stark was no ordinary prince. He was feared, whispered about, and surrounded by stories dark enough to curdle milk. People spoke of his red devilish eyes that were said to glow in the dark like embers of a dying fire. Some claimed that if one met his gaze for too long, their eyes would burn. Others said he carried a curse so heavy that death followed him like a shadow. Mothers frightened their children with his name. Priests muttered prayers when he passed.Bad stories followed him wherever he went.Yet there was something the people coul
LaylaThe hot water embraced me, scented with the soothing fragrance of essential oils and the delicate perfume of flowers. I sank deeper into the porcelain tub, the warmth leaching the tension from my muscles. A faint, earthy aroma lingered. It was a result of my recent "experiments." What were initially meant to be potent, nefarious concoctions and some failed poisons, in truth, had surprisingly yielded beneficial, if unintended, results. These experimental oils, though useless for my original dark purpose, were remarkably good at keeping my skin soft, hydrated, and deeply moisturized.A soft click of the door latch startled me from my daze. It had to be Daisy. I had insisted she join me as I was urging her to take a much-needed rest. The poor soul had been relentless in her study. She was surrounded by reading spell books. Her exhaustion was visible, and I had practically ordered her to set aside her work and relax in the comforting heat of the bathtub."Come inside," I called out,







