The palace was on fire.
Not literally—though Lina was working on that—but socially, politically, and emotionally? It was an inferno.
The Princess had danced with a commoner.
She'd kissed him.
She'd worn red.
And now every duchess in Alveria was clutching her pearls so tightly someone might invent a new necklace style: "The Choke of Scandal."
That Morning…
Queen Seraphina summoned Elara at dawn.
She sat on her velvet throne like a dragon in a dress stitched from disapproval. Cassian stood beside her, rigid and silent, his eyes like frozen steel.
"Elara," the Queen began, "your behavior last night was disgraceful."
Elara didn't blink. "Which part? The dancing or the scandalously consensual kissing?"
Cassian flinched.
The Queen's voice dropped. "You've humiliated this kingdom."
"I made it interesting," Elara said, her tone calm fire.
The Queen stood. "Enough. You will marry Prince Cassian in seven days. You will not see that carpenter again. And if I hear even a whisper of rebellion, I will lock you in the Rose Tower until your wedding day."
Cassian spoke up, voice cold. "Your rebellion ends now, Elara."
She turned to him slowly. "Funny. That's what cowards say when they know they've already lost."
Later, in Lina's Chambers…
Elara paced. Lina tossed a handful of sugared almonds into her mouth and nodded sagely.
"We need something bigger," Lina said. "The gossip worked, but now they're doubling down. You're basically under royal house arrest."
"Can we fake a duel? A scandalous pregnancy? A goat stampede?"
Lina grinned. "No. But we can fake a kidnapping."
Elara stopped mid-pace. "What?"
"You 'disappear.' The palace panics. Cassian freaks out. Meanwhile, you're with Arian in a hideout I happen to know very well—secluded, romantic, candlelit…"
Elara's lips curled. "You devious, beautiful genius."
"I'll tell the goats to pack."
That Night… in the Hideout
The hideout was deep in the hills beyond the valley. A crumbling old watchtower from a forgotten war, half-eaten by ivy and kissed by moonlight.
Inside, Arian had built a fire. Soft blankets were spread over the floor. Candles flickered. The wind howled outside, but inside it was warm and sweet.
Elara stepped through the door.
He looked up.
And in one look—one breath—he was across the room, pulling her into his arms.
They didn't speak.
Their lips met like lightning—urgent, hungry, relieved. Her fingers tugged his shirt over his head, breath catching at the sight of him: sculpted by woodwork and rebellion.
His hands roamed her waist, her spine, the ribbon at her back. "Are you sure?" he whispered.
"I want you," she breathed. "All of you."
Clothes fell like secrets.
Skin met skin.
They sank into the blankets, tangled in each other like roots and flame. He kissed her neck, her collarbone, every breath a promise. She arched beneath him, gasping his name like a spell.
He whispered hers like worship.
Their bodies moved in rhythm—slow, sensual, sacred. Fire crackled. Outside, the world kept turning. But inside… they found heaven.
When it was over, they lay in silence, her head on his chest, his fingers tracing stars on her back.
"I love you," he whispered.
She smiled. "Took you long enough."
Meanwhile…
Back at the palace, chaos.
Elara was missing.
The Queen nearly choked on a grape.
Cassian, now convinced Arian had kidnapped her for real, ordered soldiers to storm the valley. "Bring him to me," he hissed. "Alive. But not untouched."
Lina, meanwhile, was in the kitchens dramatically weeping into a pot of stew. "She's gone! Stolen by passion and poverty!"
The royal court was in shambles.
Exactly as planned.
Back in the Watchtower
Morning light spilled through the cracks in the stone.
Elara stirred in Arian's arms, blinking at the glow on his skin.
"I should feel guilty," she whispered.
"Do you?"
She smiled. "No. Just brave."
He pulled her close again, kissing her shoulder. "Whatever comes next… we face it together."
"You, me, and the goats?"
"Exactly."
They laughed softly.
But outside the tower… trouble was coming.
Boots on the earth.
Swords drawn.
And a prince scorned, marching for vengeance.