The night air outside the greenhouse was colder than before, sharp enough to cut through the warmth clinging to her skin.
Aria pulled her cloak tighter, though it did nothing to stop the feeling that the shadows were pressing in. Every step she took away from the glasshouse seemed to echo too loudly, as if the silence was listening.
Her fingers tightened around the vial hidden in her sleeve, and she wondered if the drop inside could feel her heartbeat.
Somewhere to her left, gravel crunched underfoot.
She froze, turning toward the sound, but saw only the swaying of hedge leaves in the wind. The moonlight spilled across the garden path in silver streaks, but the edges of the hedges were pools of blackness deep enough to swallow a person whole.
She told herself it was just the wind. She knew she was lying.
The moment she stepped onto the main path, a shadow detached from the darkness and moved toward her.
Her heart leapt into her throat, but she recognized the stride — smooth, measured, and too deliberate to belong to a servant or guard.
The man emerged into the moonlight, and her breath caught.
It was the King of the Obsidian Isles.
His black hair shimmered with hints of midnight blue, and his eyes — cold, endless, and unreadable — locked on hers. There was no crown tonight, only a dark cloak lined with silver threads that seemed to catch every stray glimmer of light.
"You're up late," he said, his voice low enough to feel like it was brushing against her skin.
"I could say the same," she replied, fighting to keep her tone steady.
The King stepped closer, the faint scent of the sea following him — brine and storm, a warning of danger just beneath the calm.
"You were in the greenhouse," he said, not as a question, but a statement.
Her hand twitched toward the vial hidden in her sleeve, but she forced it still.
"I was walking," she said, her voice as even as she could make it.
He tilted his head, as though amused by the attempt at deception. "Do you know what blooms tonight in that greenhouse?"
She hesitated, and in that pause, he stepped even closer.
"The Midnight Bloom," he said for her, his tone soft but edged with something sharp. "And the man who guards it does not share it with just anyone."
Her chest tightened. How much did he know?
His eyes flicked briefly to her hands, then back to her face.
"Did he give it to you?"
She felt her grip tighten on the hidden glass. "What would you do if he had?" she asked, hoping the question would turn his attention.
For a moment, he just studied her.
Then a faint smile curved his lips — one that didn't reach his eyes. "I would take it."
The words hung between them, not a threat, but a promise.
A sudden movement in the distance caught her eye — another figure stepping into the garden, this one walking with a lighter, more unhurried pace.
Moonlight touched golden hair, and her breath stilled.
The King of the Sunlit Empire had arrived.
The Obsidian King's gaze shifted toward the newcomer, his jaw tightening in a way that made the air feel heavier.
The Sunlit King, in contrast, smiled easily as he approached, though the sharpness in his eyes told her the smile was for her benefit, not the other man's.
"I thought I might find you here," the Sunlit King said to Aria, as if the Obsidian King were not even standing there.
The tension between the two was instant and electric.
Neither moved closer, but their presence filled the space like clashing storms — the dark pull of the ocean against the unyielding blaze of the sun.
Aria found herself caught in the middle, unsure if she was the prize or the bait.
"Strange hour for a stroll," the Sunlit King continued, his gaze flicking briefly to her hidden hand.
The Obsidian King's voice cut in, sharp and measured. "Strange hour for you as well. Do you follow her, or do you simply appear when others have done the work for you?"
The Sunlit King's smile sharpened. "Work? Is that what you call lurking in gardens, waiting for someone else's moment?"
Aria's pulse quickened.
This wasn't just verbal sparring — there was an undercurrent here, something long-standing and dangerous.
She could feel it in the way their eyes never left each other's, as though they were reading battles fought long before tonight.
The Obsidian King stepped closer to her, forcing the Sunlit King to shift his stance.
"You're holding something," the Obsidian King murmured, his tone meant only for her.
The Sunlit King's gaze narrowed, catching the whisper, and the space between them seemed to shrink even further.
The first drops of tension broke into open challenge.
The Obsidian King's hand moved toward hers, but before he could touch, the Sunlit King's arm was between them, his fingers brushing hers instead.
The heat of the touch burned through her cloak, and she realized both men had seen the flash of glass at her wrist.
"You'll have to choose," the Obsidian King said softly, but his words were more command than request.
"Or we'll choose for you," the Sunlit King added, his voice silk over steel.
The vial in her hand suddenly felt like the most dangerous object in the world.
A sound shattered the standoff — the sharp blast of a horn from the distant watchtower.
All three froze, and in that frozen moment, Aria caught the flicker of something in the Obsidian King's eyes. Not surprise. Recognition.
The Sunlit King's gaze shifted toward the source of the sound. "Intruders," he said simply.
But the Obsidian King's words made her blood run cold.
"Not intruders," he murmured. "A message."