It was already late at night when one of Jared's soldiers came to fetch me. The young man said the prince had something important to discuss, and I was to come at once.
Rubbing my eyes, still heavy with sleep, I struggled to shake off the lingering drowsiness. I had only just been sinking into the depths of a peaceful slumber when the loud pounding on my door startled me awake. It was past midnight—why would anyone disturb me at such an ungodly hour?
Groggily, I opened the door and stepped outside, suspicion immediately crawling up my spine. Jared had told me explicitly that no one else should know about our meeting. Yet here was one of his soldiers, obviously aware of it. How had the secret slipped?
As we walked through the shadowed corridors, the soldier's cheerful demeanor seemed oddly out of place. When we finally reached Jared, the soldier gave a bright farewell, and Jared casually patted the young man's arm—a familiar gesture that sent a ripple of unease through me.
"You know him?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.
But Jared ignored my question, shifting the conversation instead. "So, how do you like the servant I chose for you?"
I scratched the back of my neck awkwardly. "I do… but didn't you say I was supposed to pick my own servant?"
He shrugged lightly. "I didn't want to burden you. You have enough to handle already. Aren't you glad I took some things off your plate?"
His words caught me off guard, and, to my own surprise, I felt my cheeks flush.
"Th-thank you for that, Prince Jared."
He froze for a moment, then cleared his throat as if struggling to hide a smile.
Before I could laugh at his sudden awkwardness, he grabbed my arm and pulled me away, dragging me behind a towering statue where we were concealed from prying eyes.
I suddenly realized how close we were—our chests almost touching, and I could see his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed nervously. My heart pounded harder, but I pushed the fluttering feeling away.
"Did you hear the king say he plans to turn Cion Island into a vacation spot? I wonder if it's truly beautiful there," he whispered.
I frowned, confused. "Cion Island? I wasn't aware."
Jared lowered his voice further. "There's talk that the king might cancel those plans. Sebastiano's father believes the island is cursed."
I blinked, unsure whether to believe the gossip. "Cursed? Why?"
Jared smirked. "Some say it's haunted by things far worse than ghosts—zombies, even."
I rolled my eyes at the absurdity of it, but Jared laughed along, the tension easing for a moment.
We waited until two palace guards passed by before Jared released his hold on my waist and arm.
My skin still tingled from his touch—strangely different from any other contact I'd known.
Get a grip, Rowela. Focus on the mission. Not on your foolish heart.
"I was going to ask…" I began, but Jared cut me off.
"They're planning to take over Cion Island, but since it's considered cursed, it's suspicious. What I don't understand is why the king didn't tell me this himself."
As the king's right hand, Jared was supposed to be the first to know of any major decisions. Yet it seemed he hadn't even met with the king recently.
"I overheard the king and Sebastian's father discussing it," I confessed.
"Sebastian's father? The king and the High Counselor Sebastino?"
"Yes. The father is a High Counselor in the palace and belongs to the wealthiest family in Zenon."
"That explains a lot."
I grew quiet, my mind wandering back to the night I dined at the VIP table. Sebastian, with his passion for painting and quiet demeanor, never struck me as someone connected to such power and influence.
Their family's wealth and status had made me realize how deeply entwined politics were within the palace walls. No wonder his father had taken such an interest in meeting me—it wasn't mere coincidence or courtesy.
"You didn't think carefully about who you were opposing," Jared said quietly.
"How could I have? I didn't know he was the High Counselor or that he'd interfere with my affairs," I murmured, brushing hair from my sweaty forehead.
"And what exactly is your job?" Jared asked sharply.
"That's not something you need to know." I turned away, trying to shake off the lingering exhaustion from all the forced dancing earlier. My legs ached, and the last thing I wanted was to explain myself to him—especially when I feared he might judge me wrongly.
"Good night. Thanks for coming," Jared said, and when I glanced back, he was already disappearing into the shadows.
Jared was no stranger to secrets and half-truths, but his unwavering focus on justice—for his elder brother who had suffered so much—was clear in every word and action.
And me? I had no grand plan. All I knew was that I foolishly hoped to catch the king's attention, even when every instinct told me it was unlikely.
What if it wasn't the king who noticed me, but Sebastian's powerful, old father instead? That would ruin everything.
"Milady, may I escort you back to your room?" a voice suddenly interrupted my thoughts.
Startled, I turned to find one of the palace guards blocking my path.
I nodded, and he began chatting, his tone surprisingly light.
"I'm close friends with the Grand Knight, so he trusts me implicitly."
So he was Jared's friend—though he probably had no idea Jared was secretly spying on King Henry.
"I'm looking for a woman, too. Even a servant would do, as long as she's unmarried. I'm still young, after all."
I rolled my eyes at his candidness, irritation bubbling up.
"My servant is an older widow. I have no one to introduce you to."
He laughed, clearly amused.
"You're wrong, milady. I know Fiora, and I'm one of her suitors. I thought you'd be setting me up with her."
His boldness startled me. He knew Fiora? And still tried to flatter me?
"I'm drawn to her curly black hair. She's unique—her ethnicity sets her apart here in Zenon. I blush just thinking about her," he said, eyes sparkling as he stared into the distance.
What did he see in Fiora? Some exotic artifact, maybe?
Fiora was indeed different—curly hair, fair skin—but she was no object to be admired from afar. I wouldn't let any man toy with my friend like that.
When we reached my room, Fiora opened the door and was visibly shocked—likely because I'd disappeared earlier without a word.
The guard bowed respectfully, took her hand, and kissed it.
"Good evening, Fiora."
Fiora's cheeks burned with anger, but she held her tongue, probably because I was there.
The man left, humming a tune that repeated Fiora's name.
Once the door closed, Fiora leaned against the wall, flustered and uncertain.
"Who was that man?" I asked.
She avoided my gaze, but her blushing betrayed her feelings.
Could she be... interested in him?
"That's Evan, a palace soldier. He always pesters me whenever we meet," she said softly.
"A suitor?"
"Yes, milady," she admitted shyly.
That was enough for me. I didn't press further and lay down on the bed, inviting her to sleep beside me.
She hesitated, too shy, and refused.
The next morning, I woke to find Fiora's eyes swollen and red from crying. She carried a tray with croissants and coffee, sniffling as she tried to hold back her tears.
"I heard… th-that pirates killed Rowela. They threw her body into the sea," she sobbed.
I paused, coffee halfway to my lips, stunned by her words.
I stood abruptly, pulling her into a comforting embrace and rubbing her back gently, wishing I could ease her grief.
So this was the "good news" Celio had mentioned—the news that I was supposedly dead, so no one would look for me anymore.
I had never imagined my problems would end like this.
A faint smile tugged at my lips, but tears welled up, too, because Fiora's sorrow was endless.
If she ever learned the truth, I was certain she would never forgive me.