Mira's POV
"What danger?" I whispered, my voice shaking.
Prince Cassian closed the door quickly and pressed a finger to his lips. In the candlelight, his face looked haggard, like he hadn't slept since the throne room.
"Keep your voice down," he said quietly. "If anyone finds me here, you'll be accused of seducing me. My mother would have you executed before dawn."
My heart hammered. "Then why are you here?"
He moved closer, his silver eyes intense. "Because I owe you my life, and I won't let you die for saving it." He glanced at the door nervously. "Master Hadeon has killed before. Two magicless healers in the past decade, both made to look like accidents or runaways."
The carved message on my table suddenly made terrible sense.
"Why?" I asked. "Why would he kill them?"
"Because he's a fanatic. He believes magic is divine, that those without it are abominations. He's been petitioning my mother for years to ban non-magical healing entirely." Cassian's jaw clenched. "And my mother indulges him because he's useful. He keeps the magical healer guild in line, and in return, she lets him... handle problems."
"Problems like me."
"Yes." He looked at me with something like regret. "I tried to make you my personal healer to keep you away from him, but my mother outmaneuvered me. Now you're under his authority, and I..." He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "I'm sorry. This is my fault."
"It's not your fault your mother is a monster," I said before I could stop myself.
Cassian's lips quirked despite the situation. "True. But I should have anticipated her moves better." He pulled something from his pocket—a small vial of amber liquid. "This is sleeping draught. Strong enough to knock out a grown man for hours. Hide it. If Master Hadeon ever tries to hurt you, use it."
I took the vial with trembling hands. "You think he'll try?"
"I think you embarrassed the Queen today. She can't kill you directly without looking unjust, but if Master Hadeon kills you and makes it look like an accident?" Cassian's expression was grim. "She'd be rid of a problem without dirtying her hands."
Fear crawled up my spine. "So what do I do?"
"Survive." He gripped my shoulders gently. "Keep your head down. Do whatever degrading tasks he assigns. Don't fight back, don't argue, don't give him any excuse to escalate. I'll work on getting you out from under his authority, but it will take time."
"How much time?"
"I don't know." Frustration bled through his words. "My mother is already angry that I used Crown Right. If I push too hard, too fast, she'll find other ways to strike at you. Ways I can't protect you from."
The weight of it pressed down on me. I'd gone from one day of hope to being trapped in a position where a murderous healer could kill me at any time, and even the Crown Prince couldn't fully protect me.
"Why?" I asked suddenly. "Why do you care this much? You barely know me."
Cassian was quiet for a moment. "Because you saw me dying in an alley and chose to save me anyway. Not because I was the Crown Prince—you didn't even know who I was. You saved me because that's who you are. A healer. Someone who helps people even when it costs you everything."
His voice dropped lower. "People like that are rare. Especially in a palace full of vipers. I won't let them destroy you."
Something warm bloomed in my chest, dangerous and complicated.
"You should go," I whispered. "Before someone sees."
He nodded but didn't move immediately. "One more thing. Lady Seraphine."
My stomach tightened at her name.
"She's dangerous in different ways than my mother. Where my mother is direct and brutal, Seraphine is subtle. She'll smile while sliding a knife between your ribs." His eyes hardened. "She saw how I looked at you today. She won't forget that."
"How did you look at me?"
The words slipped out before I could stop them. Cassian's expression shifted into something I couldn't read.
"Like someone I don't want to lose," he said finally.
Then he was gone, slipping out my door like a shadow.
I stood frozen, my heart racing for entirely new reasons.
Dawn came too soon.
I reported to the healing ward exactly on time, exhausted from a sleepless night. Master Hadeon was waiting, looking irritated that I hadn't given him an excuse to punish me.
"You're here," he said coldly. "Pity. I was hoping you'd run."
"I'm here to work," I said, keeping my voice neutral.
"Work. How amusing." He grabbed a bucket and shoved it into my hands. "Start by scrubbing the floor. Every tile, every corner. I want to be able to eat off these stones."
I looked at the massive ward. It would take hours.
"Yes, Master Hadeon."
I got on my hands and knees and started scrubbing. The other healers—all magical—walked past me like I was furniture. Some stepped over me without acknowledging my existence. One "accidentally" kicked my bucket, spilling dirty water across my freshly cleaned section.
"Clumsy," she said with a smirk, walking away.
I bit my lip and started over.
Hours passed. My hands blistered. My knees ached. My back screamed in pain. But I kept scrubbing, because showing weakness would give Master Hadeon exactly what he wanted.
"Magicless girl!" he barked around midday. "Stop that. I need someone to empty the chamber pots from the patient rooms."
Humiliation burned through me, but I stood. "Yes, Master Hadeon."
He handed me a cart piled with bedpans and chamber pots from sick patients. The smell was overwhelming.
"Dump these in the waste pit outside," he ordered. "And if you spill a single drop in my clean hallways, you'll lick it up."
Other healers snickered.
I pushed the cart through the palace, trying to ignore the stares and whispers.
"That's the girl who touched the Prince..."
"Magicless trash..."
"I heard she seduced him..."
"Disgusting..."
Each word was a needle in my skin. But I kept walking.
At the waste pit behind the palace, I dumped the contents and tried not to vomit. This was my life now. This was what saving the Crown Prince had earned me.
When I returned to the healing ward, Master Hadeon had a new task waiting.
"The supply closet needs organizing. Everything sorted by type and alphabetized."
"Yes, Master Hadeon."
Hours more passed in the dark, cramped closet. My eyes burned. My stomach cramped with hunger—no one had offered me food. But I organized every herb, every bandage, every tool exactly as ordered.
As the sun set, Master Hadeon finally dismissed me.
"Return at dawn," he said. "Don't be late."
I dragged myself back to my tiny room, every muscle screaming. Emma had left bread and cheese outside my door—a kindness that made my eyes sting.
I ate mechanically, tasting nothing.
Then I looked at the carved message on my table. Help me. Please. Someone help me.
Had she felt like this? Broken down day by day until there was nothing left?
For the first time since my mother died, I let myself cry.
I cried for the hope I'd lost. For the dignity stripped away. For the future that looked like nothing but endless degradation until Master Hadeon decided I'd lived long enough.
I cried until there were no more tears, just empty exhaustion.
That's when I heard it.
Screaming. Coming from somewhere in the palace. A woman's voice, high and terrified.
Then sudden silence.
My blood turned to ice.
I pressed my ear against my door, listening. Footsteps. Running. Frantic whispers.
"—found her in the garden—"
"—blood everywhere—"
"—call Master Hadeon—"
More footsteps, these ones measured and calm. Master Hadeon's voice drifted through the walls: "Tragic accident. She must have fallen from the balcony. These magicless servants are so clumsy."
My heart stopped.
Another one. He'd killed another magicless servant.
And from the sound of where the screaming came from... it had happened near my quarters.
He was sending a message. Showing me what happened to magicless girls who didn't know their place.
I backed away from my door, shaking.
A piece of paper slid underneath it.
I stared at it for a long moment before finding the courage to pick it up.
Five words, written in elegant script:
You're next, magicless girl.