Daelyn's fingers ached from gripping her champagne flute too tightly. Two hours into the ga, hosted for her brother and Pir's engagement, she'd already been introduced to seven eligible nobles, each one eyeing her like she was a prize mare at auction. Lucas kept his promise not to discuss arrangements, but the intentions were clear in every introduction, every meaningful gnce exchanged with King Cremont of Belraithe.

  If one more man kissed her hand while staring at her breeding potential, she might "accidentally" spill her drink down his pristine formal jacket. The penalty for such a breach of etiquette would be steep: another month of Lucas's disappointment, another round of whispers about her ck of proper refinement but right now- it almost seemed worth it.

  She'd escaped to the library, the one pce guests rarely ventured during these events. The shelves of ancient books wrapped around her like a shield, their familiar scent of leather and paper tinged with dust and secrets a comfort. Leaning against the window seat, she gazed out at the gardens where she'd tasted freedom just hours before, the moonlight reflecting on the same path her feet had traveled.

  The sound of the door opening made her stiffen. The distant melody of the string quartet slipped through the gap before being muffled again as it closed.

  "So this is where princesses hide," a voice said behind her.

  Daelyn turned, ready with a polite dismissal, the one she'd practiced in her mirror firm enough to discourage without offending. The words died in her throat.

  The man standing in the doorway was not one of the stuffy nobles Lucas had introduced her to. Tall, with shoulders that strained against his formal jacket, he had the kind of presence that seemed to shrink the room. His blond hair was slightly longer than court fashion dictated, falling across eyes that caught the mplight and blue, impossibly blue.

  Prince Andrik. Had to be.

  Daelyn straightened, remembering her brother's warning. 'Keep your distance from Cremont's son. He has a reputation.'

  "The library isn't restricted, Your Highness. But most guests prefer the music and dancing."

  "I'm not most guests." He shut the door behind him, making her pulse skip. They were alone now. Something Lucas had specifically warned against, something that could endanger the delicate alliance he'd spent months cultivating.

  "Clearly." She kept her voice cool, despite the heat rising in her cheeks. "Most guests know it's customary to be introduced before seeking private audiences."

  Andrik's mouth curved into a smile that had probably charmed dies across all three kingdoms. "We were introduced. You just don't remember."

  "I think I'd remember you."

  The moment the words left her mouth, she wanted to erase them. They sounded too much like flirtation. His smile widened, confirming her error, and the library suddenly felt too warm, too small.

  "We were children," he crified, moving deeper into the room. The floorboards creaked beneath his boots. "Your father brought you to Belraithe for diplomatic meetings. You were...seven, maybe eight? All skinned knees and attitude."

  A memory fshed in her mind, a pace with impossibly high ceilings, marble floors cold against her bare feet as she snuck into the kitchens, and a boy who'd stolen her dessert at dinner. "You put a snake in my bed."

  Andrik ughed, the sound rich and warm, bouncing off the bookshelves like something alive. "You remember that part."

  "The screaming woke the entire east wing. My father nearly called off the trade agreement with Belraithe."

  "And you got your revenge by putting maple syrup in my boots the next morning." He came closer, the scent of sandalwood and night air following him. "The servants couldn't get it out for weeks."

  Despite herself, Daelyn smiled. "I'd forgotten that."

  "I hadn't." Andrik moved to the bookshelves, running his fingers along the spines, leaving trails in the thin yer of dust like secrets written in ancient nguages. "You were the only one who ever stood up to me. Everyone else was too afraid of offending the crown prince."

  "I've never been very good at court politics."

  "No?" He turned, studying her with those blue eyes that seemed to see too much. "From what I hear, you're the perfect princess now. Dutiful. Obedient. Exactly what your brother needs to secure alliances."

  The words stung, though she wasn't sure why. Perhaps because they were true. After her father died, she'd locked away the curiosity and pyfulness side of herself and repced her with someone worthy of her family name. "You shouldn't believe everything you hear, Your Highness."

  "Andrik," he corrected. "After the snake incident, I think we can dispense with formalities."

  There was something dangerous about the way he said it like they were conspirators in something forbidden. Like he was offering her something no one else could, the freedom to be herself.

  "What are you doing here, Andrik?" she asked, deciding directness was her best defense. "In the library, I mean. Surely there are more entertaining pces for someone of your... reputation."

  "Same as you, I imagine. Escaping." He leaned against the shelf, arms crossed. The shadows pyed across his face, highlighting and concealing the sharp line of his jaw. "Though in my case, it's my father I'm avoiding, not potential suitors."

  "You have suitors?" she teased, surprised at her boldness.

  "Not officially. But my father has pns." His expression darkened. "Always has pns. Always some alliance. The minute my sister's marriage to your brother Lucas is finalized, I'm next on the auction block."

  The familiar weight of royal duty settled between them, a shared burden she hadn't expected to find with the notorious pyboy prince. All her life, she'd been told stories of Prince Andrik's wild escapades, his rebellion against his father's authority. Seeing something lingering behind his smile, she wondered how many of those stories were true and how many were desperate attempts to cim something for himself before it was too te.

  "So you're hiding from arrangements too?" she asked.

  "Among other things." His gaze drifted to the window where she'd been looking earlier. "Nice view. You can see the secret passage entrance from here."

  Daelyn followed his gaze, startled. "What passage?"

  "The one you used earlier." His eyes met hers, knowing. "Your hair still has grass in it. And there's a smudge of dirt on your sleeve that doesn't match your pristine image."

  Sneaking out daily had become her refuge and her brother would not be thrilled if he knew just how often she was out and today of all days. Her hand flew to her hair, mortified. She'd changed her dress, but in her rush, she'd forgotten to check her hair. If he'd noticed, who else had? "How did you—"

  "I saw you running in the gardens from my window." He moved closer, reaching out. Before she could step back, he plucked something from her hair. "Evidence."

  He held up a small green bde between his fingers, twirling it in the mplight. Daelyn felt exposed, caught in her rebellion. If Lucas discovered she'd been sneaking out again, especially with the delegation from Belraithe in residence, his disappointment would be crushing.

  "Are you going to tell my brother?" she asked, lifting her chin defiantly, though her stomach twisted with dread.

  "Do I look like someone who reports rule-breaking?" Andrik's voice lowered, a conspiracy shared in the space between heartbeats. "Your secret is safe with me, Princess."

  The way he said "princess" not with the reverence others used, but almost like a tease,sent a strange thrill through her, like standing at the edge of her balcony and looking down, terrified and tempted all at once.

  "And what do you want in exchange for your silence?" she asked, only half-joking. No one did anything for free in royal circles. Every kindness came with a contract written in invisible ink.

  "A tour." He gestured around them. "Of the secret passages."

  "That's... inappropriate." The word felt inadequate for what she knew Lucas would think of such an arrangement. If they were caught alone together in the dark of the hidden corridors, the scandal would jeopardize the alliance, maybe even her reputation. Lucas would never forgive her.

  "Completely." Andrik didn't deny it. "But somehow, I doubt that bothers you as much as you let on. The girl who put syrup in my boots is still in there somewhere, isn't she? Trapped behind all the rules and decorum."

  She should refuse. This man was exactly the kind of complication Lucas had warned her about. But after years of forcing herself to be fwless, of following every rule, of being the dutiful princess while watching her desires wither like unwatered gardens...

  "Okay, deal," she heard herself say, the words rushing out before caution could catch them. "And if anyone catches us, I'll say you got lost and I was escorting you back to your quarters."

  Andrik's smile was slow, dangerous, and entirely too appealing. "I wouldn't miss it."

  The door opened, breaking the moment. Alberta stood there, relief washing over her face.

  "There you are, Miss Daelyn. Your brother Lucas has been looking for you. King Cremont wishes to speak with you before dinner."

  The real world came crashing back. Daelyn nodded, composing her features into the mask of royal propriety, feeling it settle over her like a second skin. "Of course. I was just showing Prince Andrik our collection of first editions."

  Alberta's gaze flicked between them, suspicious but unable to contradict her.

  "Prince Andrik, if you'll excuse me." Daelyn moved toward the door, keeping her voice formal, her steps measured.

  As she passed him, he leaned in slightly, his voice barely audible, his breath warm against her ear.

  "Princess."

  Daelyn felt his words like a physical touch, trailing heat along her skin. As she followed Alberta back to the ballroom, she counted the hours in her head. Seven hours until midnight. Seven hours until she did something entirely for herself.

  The weight of her crown felt lighter already, even as the weight of her decision settled in its pce. What waited for her in those dark passages? Freedom? Ruin? Something in between?

  For the first time in her life, she didn't care.