CHAPTER THIRTEEN : THE PRINCE WHO WATCHES

Elara’s POV

The palace was louder the next morning.

Court days always were.

Servants rushed through the halls carrying trays and messages. Nobles drifted through the corridors like brightly colored birds, whispering gossip behind jeweled fans. Somewhere nearby a musician practiced a harp, the soft notes echoing through the marble archways.

But despite the noise, my thoughts remained fixed on the garden.

On the way Caelan had said my name.

On how close we had stood.

On how neither of us had stepped away.

I had barely slept afterward.

And now the palace seemed determined to remind me that my life was no longer entirely my own.

“Elara.”

My mother’s voice pulled me from my thoughts.

She stood beside me near the grand staircase, adjusting the folds of my sleeve with the careful attention of someone preparing a display.

“You must remember,” she murmured quietly, “the court will be observing you today.”

“Why?”

Her eyes flickered with something I couldn’t quite read.

“Because the king has begun discussions regarding your future.”

The words felt heavy.

Your future.

Or rather—my marriage.

I forced a polite expression.

“And who exactly is observing me?”

My mother’s lips curved slightly.

“You’ll see.”

The answer came sooner than expected.

Court gathered in the grand hall that afternoon, sunlight pouring through the tall stained-glass windows and scattering colors across the polished floor.

Nobles lined the walls in clusters of silk and jewels.

And near the center of the room stood a man I had never seen before.

Tall.

Confident.

Dangerously charming.

His dark hair fell slightly over his brow, and there was a relaxed ease in the way he carried himself—as though the entire room existed purely for his amusement.

When my mother guided me closer, he turned.

His eyes lit immediately.

“Ah,” he said with a small smile. “So this is the lady everyone has been speaking about.”

My mother inclined her head.

“Prince Adrian of Valenwood, may I present Lady Elara.”

Prince.

Of course.

A visiting noble powerful enough to be considered a suitable match.

He bowed slightly, though the gesture carried more charm than formality.

“An honor,” he said.

His gaze lingered just long enough to feel deliberate.

“You’re new to the palace,” he continued. “Yet somehow you’ve already become the most interesting person in it.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“That seems unlikely.”

He smiled wider.

“Then allow me to prove it wrong.”

We spoke for several minutes.

Prince Adrian was easy to talk to in a way most nobles weren’t. He asked questions. Listened to answers. Laughed easily.

But I couldn’t shake the strange feeling crawling up the back of my neck.

Like someone was watching.

Finally I glanced toward the raised platform where the king’s chair stood.

And there he was.

Caelan.

Seated in quiet authority among the council.

But his eyes were not on the court.

They were on us.

Specifically—

On Adrian’s hand as it brushed lightly against mine while emphasizing a story.

The look on the king’s face was controlled.

Careful.

But I saw the tension in his jaw even from across the room.

Adrian followed my gaze.

“Oh,” he said softly, amusement flickering in his voice. “That explains a few things.”

“Explains what?”

He leaned closer, lowering his voice.

“The king.”

My heart skipped.

“What about him?”

Adrian’s smile turned knowing.

“I’ve met many rulers,” he said. “And I recognize that expression.”

“What expression?”

“The one men wear when someone else is standing too close to something they want.”

I should have stepped away then.

But Adrian continued speaking as though he had just discovered a fascinating puzzle.

“Tell me,” he said casually, “should I be worried?”

“About what?”

He gestured subtly toward the throne.

“About His Majesty deciding he dislikes me.”

I forced a calm tone.

“You’re a guest. I doubt he would show such discourtesy.”

Adrian’s eyes sparkled.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Before I could reply, a royal attendant approached.

“Lady Elara,” he said formally. “His Majesty requests your presence.”

Of course he did.

Adrian chuckled quietly.

“Well,” he said, stepping back, “this should be interesting.”

The king’s study felt smaller this time.

Or perhaps the tension between us simply filled the space more quickly.

Caelan closed the door behind me.

“You seem to be enjoying court today.”

His voice was calm.

Too calm.

“I was speaking with a guest.”

“A guest who appears very interested in you.”

“That seems to be the point of inviting him.”

His eyes darkened slightly.

“You encourage him.”

“I was being polite.”

“Polite?” he repeated.

“Yes.”

Silence stretched between us.

Then he stepped closer.

“Do you intend to marry him?”

The directness caught me off guard.

“I barely know him.”

“That didn’t stop you before.”

The meaning behind those words hung heavy in the room.

Something hot flared in my chest.

“That was before I knew you were the king.”

“And now that you do?”

I lifted my chin.

“Now you want me to choose someone else.”

He stopped only inches away.

Too close.

“Elara,” he said quietly, “you don’t understand what you’re risking.”

“And you don’t understand what you’re asking.”

His hand moved suddenly, catching my wrist before I could step back.

The touch sent a shock of warmth through me.

“You think watching another man court you is easy for me?” he said.

“You told me to accept it.”

“Yes,” he said harshly. “Because it’s safer than this.”

His grip loosened—but his hand didn’t move away.

My heart was racing now.

“Safer for who?” I asked softly.

“For you.”

“And what if I don’t want safe?”

The words slipped out before I could stop them.

For a moment neither of us moved.

Then his hand slid gently from my wrist to my fingers.

A dangerous softness replaced the tension.

“Elara…”

My name sounded different in his voice now.

Lower.

Warmer.

And before either of us could remember why this was a terrible idea—

He kissed me.

It wasn’t rushed.

Or desperate.

It was careful at first, almost hesitant.

Like he was testing whether the moment was real.

But the moment my hand rose to his shoulder, the restraint broke.

The kiss deepened.

All the tension of the past days seemed to collapse into that single moment.

When we finally pulled apart, both of us were breathing harder than before.

Reality rushed back like cold water.

“This cannot happen again,” he said quietly.

But this time the words sounded far less convincing.

And somewhere else in the palace…

Prince Adrian was smiling to himself.

Because he had noticed the king leave court.

And he had every intention of discovering why.