The palace clock struck two.
The halls of Vareen were asleep — or so she thought.
Elara moved like a ghost through the corridors, her cloak drawn tight, her steps soft against the marble. The cold bit through the night air, but she didn't feel it. Not compared to the hollow chill inside her.
Each step toward the gate was a betrayal — of her father's orders, of her kingdom's pride — but she couldn't stop.
She needed answers.
She needed to see his face.
Outside the palace walls, a car waited — unmarked, plain. Her lady-in-waiting's brother owed her a favor, and she'd called it in. He didn't ask questions; he simply drove.
The drive was long, the silence heavy. Outside, the dark countryside blurred by in streaks of grey and green. Every so often, Corin glanced at her through the rearview mirror, as if afraid she'd vanish under the weight of her thoughts.
Her phone buzzed endlessly with messages she refused to open. The world was still tearing her apart — dissecting her heartbreak in headlines and gossip threads.
She squeezed her hands in her lap. "He has to explain," she murmured. "He has to."
When they reached the back road near Alderian Palace, Corin stopped under the cover of tall pines. "This is as close as I can take you. The patrols will notice."
"Thank you," she said softly. "Wait for me here. I won't be long."
He gave a short nod, but his eyes were uneasy. "Be careful, Princess."
Elara moved through the shadows, heart pounding as she approached the side entrance. Her cloak brushed the walls, her footsteps soundless.
The guards didn't see her — or maybe they did and chose not to stop her.
When she finally reached the private garden behind Adrian's quarters, she froze. He stood by the fountain, silhouetted in pale moonlight, hands in his pockets.
He turned slowly at the sound of her steps.
"Elara."
Her breath hitched. "You knew I'd come?"
"I expected you wouldn't," he said flatly.
She flinched at his tone — calm, cold, detached. Not the man she'd once known.
"Why are you here?" he asked quietly. "Do you want another scandal?"
"I want the truth," she said, voice trembling. "Was it you? Was that woman—"
"Don't," he cut in sharply. "Not here."
"Why not here?" Her voice broke. "This is where we first kissed, where you said you'd never hurt me. Tell me you didn't mean any of it. Tell me the night we shared meant nothing to you."
His jaw tightened. "You shouldn't be here, Elara. Go home."
Her heart cracked. "You can't even deny it."
He turned away, the muscles in his shoulders stiff. "Leave before someone sees you."
But someone already had.
In the shadows beyond the gate, a faint click sounded — the lens of a camera capturing them. Then another. And another.
Elara didn't notice. Neither did Adrian.
She reached for him, desperate. "Adrian, please—"
He stepped back. "There's nothing left to say."
The rejection sliced through her like glass. She stared at him, at the coldness in his eyes, and realized with a trembling breath that the man before her wasn't her ex- fiancé anymore — he was a stranger.
She blinked away tears. "Then goodbye, Your Highness."
Her voice cracked on the title.
She turned and walked away.
By the time she reached the road again, her steps had turned to stumbling. She spotted the car ahead — headlights dimmed — and quickened her pace.
"Corin?" she called softly.
No answer.
Her heartbeat quickened. She tried the door — it was unlocked, empty. The driver's seat still warm. A faint rustle came from the trees behind her.
"Corin?"
Nothing.
She took a cautious step back, scanning the darkness. Her instincts screamed danger. She turned to run — but a gloved hand clamped over her mouth.
Her muffled scream disappeared into the night. Another figure emerged from the shadows, syringe in hand. The needle pricked her neck before she could fight back.
The world tilted violently. Her knees gave out, the cold dirt rising to meet her.
The last thing she saw before everything went black was a pair of dark boots beside the fallen car key — and the soft sound of a camera clicking one last time.
By dawn, the headlines exploded.
"Princess Elara seen sneaking into Prince Adrian's palace at midnight!"
"Exclusive photos suggest the affair continues in secret!"
"Hours after the meeting, the Vareen princess has vanished — and Adrian is silent."
The story spread like wildfire.
Both kingdoms were in uproar. The royal council demanded answers. Protesters gathered outside the palace gates. The once-golden prince was branded a kidnapper, a traitor, a monster.
Adrian stood at his balcony as the chaos unfolded below, the noise of the crowd like a living storm. Guards rushed through the corridors, advisors shouted for statements — but all he could hear was her voice echoing in his head.
"Tell me the night we shared meant nothing to you."
The words twisted like a blade.
And as the sun bled across the horizon, a single thought took root in his mind — dark, unrelenting, impossible to shake.
Someone had set this in motion. Someone had known exactly how to break him.
But who?
Who stood to gain from his ruin — from the collapse of two kingdoms?
Because now, every eye looked at him.
Every finger pointed his way.
And for the first time, Prince Adrian of Alderian couldn't tell if the kingdom he was born to rule would crown him… or crucify him.