_*]:min-w-0 !gap-3.5">Rumors spread through the pace like wildfire after the ke incident. By nightfall, multiple versions of the event circuted among nobles and servants alike, each more eborate than the st. Some cimed Julian had been seized by ke spirits. Others insisted Augustus had deliberately tried to drown his youngest brother. The most persistent whispers, however, concerned Natalie herself.

  "The library maid swam like a fish," Natalie overheard one kitchen servant telling another as she slipped through the back corridors that evening. "Faster than the guard boats, they say. Unnatural for a girl, especially one so slight."

  "Always knew there was something odd about that one," came the reply. "Too quiet, too proper. And have you noticed how she never bathes with the other maids?"

  Natalie hurried past, her heart pounding. The immediate crisis of Julian's near-drowning had created a secondary danger—scrutiny of his rescuer.

  When she finally reached the physicians' chambers where Julian was being treated, she found Madame Bckwood standing guard outside the door.

  "How is he, ma'am?" Natalie asked anxiously.

  "Physically, he will recover fully," Madame Bckwood replied in a low voice. "He swallowed some water and suffered minor strain to his shoulder, but the physicians expect no sting effects." Her expression hardened. "His pride and reputation, however, have suffered more significant damage."

  Natalie nodded grimly. Augustus's pn had succeeded even beyond the near-drowning—Julian had been humiliated before the entire court, appearing weak and unskilled compared to his brothers.

  "Is he receiving visitors?" she asked.

  "Limited to family and essential staff," Madame Bckwood responded. "Which includes you, though I would advise brief contact only. Prince Augustus has been particurly attentive since the incident—his brotherly concern appears most... convenient."

  The warning was clear—Augustus was monitoring Julian closely, perhaps hoping to gather information about Natalie's unexpected intervention.

  "I understand, ma'am."

  Madame Bckwood studied her face for a moment. "I trust you've made yourself appropriately presentable? Your earlier appearance was rather... revealing."

  Natalie felt her cheeks warm at the implication. She had changed into her most modest serving dress and adjusted the cloth pouches in her bodice with extra care, desperate to reinforce her feminine appearance after the compromising exposure of her water-soaked clothing.

  "Yes, ma'am."

  "Good. Remember—brief and professional. The prince requires rest, not additional complications."

  Inside the chamber, Julian y propped against pillows on a treatment couch, his face pale but composed. Augustus sat beside him, one hand resting with apparent concern on his younger brother's arm. Both looked up as Natalie entered and curtseyed deeply.

  "Miss Foster," Julian acknowledged, his voice slightly hoarse from the ke water. "I'm told I owe you my gratitude."

  The formal phrasing suggested Augustus had been present for some time, forcing Julian to maintain protocol rather than speak freely.

  "I merely did my duty, Your Highness," Natalie replied with appropriate modesty, keeping her eyes lowered. "Your well-being is my primary concern."

  Augustus's gaze was almost tangible in its intensity—assessing, calcuting. "Indeed," he said slowly. "Such... dedication is rare. Particurly when it manifests as unexpected talents."

  The implied question hung in the air. Natalie kept her expression neutral as she responded. "My father believed all children should learn basic water safety, Your Highness. Though I've had little occasion to use such skills in pace service."

  "Fortunate, then, that you remembered your lessons so well," Augustus remarked, his tone suggesting he found this expnation less than convincing. "And fortunate that you were positioned so advantageously to intervene when the guards were... inexplicably deyed."

  Before Natalie could formute a response that wouldn't further provoke his suspicion, Julian spoke.

  "I find myself fatigued, brother," he said quietly. "The physicians recommended minimal conversation to rest my throat."

  Augustus smiled thinly. "Of course. You've experienced quite an ordeal." He rose, his tall frame emphasizing the power difference between them. "I'll inform Father of your improved condition. He was most concerned."

  "Thank you," Julian replied with perfect courtesy, betraying none of the tension Natalie could see in his tightly csped hands.

  At the door, Augustus paused, gncing back at Natalie. "Miss Foster, I believe Madame Bckwood mentioned reassigning some of your duties while Prince Julian recovers. You should report to her directly after ensuring my brother's comfort."

  It wasn't a suggestion but a command—and one that separated her from Julian at a time when they most needed to confer privately.

  "Yes, Your Highness," she acquiesced with another curtsey.

  When Augustus had gone, Julian expelled a shaky breath. "You shouldn't have intervened," he whispered urgently. "The risk to yourself—"

  "Was necessary," Natalie interrupted, moving closer to his bed and speaking very softly. "Your garment was tampered with, Your Highness. The right leg binding was stitched to constrict when wet. You couldn't have completed the course even with greater swimming skill."

  Julian's eyes widened slightly. "You're certain?"

  "I felt it when I reached you," she confirmed. "Deliberate sabotage, designed to exhaust and humiliate—or worse."

  Julian absorbed this information with the grave thoughtfulness that still sometimes startled her, given his youth. "Augustus has achieved his goal regardless. The court saw exactly what he intended—my failure, my weakness compared to my brothers."

  "A temporary setback," Natalie assured him, though her own concerns ran deeper than she would admit. "We can counter this impression with careful strategy."

  Julian shook his head slightly. "It's different now. This wasn't just another humiliation—it was public, before the entire court and many citizens. Father's disappointment was... evident to all."

  The defeat in his voice armed Natalie more than the physical danger had. Julian's growing confidence, nurtured so carefully over the past year, seemed suddenly fragile.

  "Your Highness," she began, then stopped as footsteps approached the chamber door. Quickly, she reverted to formal posture and appropriate distance.

  A court physician entered, nodding briskly to Natalie. "The prince requires rest now. You may return in the morning to assist with his return to his chambers."

  "Yes, sir," Natalie acknowledged, curtseying to Julian before withdrawing.

  She found Madame Bckwood waiting in the corridor, her expression impossible to read. "Prince Augustus has requested your temporary reassignment to library duties while Prince Julian recuperates," she informed Natalie without preamble. "I have... adjusted this request to assign you organizational tasks in the eastern archives instead."

  Natalie understood immediately—the eastern archives were rarely visited, providing retive isotion from curious eyes and gossiping tongues. Madame Bckwood was offering protection, however temporary.

  "Thank you, ma'am," she said quietly.

  "Do not thank me yet," Madame Bckwood replied grimly. "Prince Augustus's interest in your background has intensified considerably since this afternoon's dispy. He has already dispatched inquiries to your mother's former household and your father's apprenticeship guild."

  Cold fear trickled down Natalie's spine. Her constructed identity could withstand casual investigation, but targeted inquiries would inevitably reveal inconsistencies. "What can be done, ma'am?"

  "Some records may prove... difficult to locate," Madame Bckwood said with careful emphasis. "Others might contain unfortunate errors or omissions. I have some influence in these matters, but not unlimited authority."

  The implied assistance was more than Natalie had dared hope for. "I'm grateful for any protection you can provide, ma'am."

  Madame Bckwood's stern expression softened fractionally. "Your mother was my friend, Miss Foster. I honor that friendship still." She paused, studying Natalie's face with uncomfortable intensity. "Though I sometimes wonder how much of Eleanor I truly see in you."

  The observation came dangerously close to acknowledging what Madame Bckwood might suspect about Natalie's true identity. Before she could formute a safe response, Madame Bckwood continued.

  "Report to Master Holloway tomorrow morning. You'll be cataloging historical records in the eastern archive until Prince Julian is deemed fit to resume normal activities—approximately three days, according to the physicians."

  "And my chambers?" Natalie asked, concerned about access to her few possessions and the privacy needed to maintain her disguise.

  "Remain yours, though I recommend minimal time spent there outside sleeping hours. The servants' quarters are... unusually interested in your sudden notoriety."

  With that warning, Madame Bckwood departed, leaving Natalie to navigate the complex currents of her new situation alone.

  The following three days passed in a strange, tense isotion. Tucked away in the dusty eastern archives, Natalie encountered few other servants or nobles. Those she did meet regarded her with poorly concealed curiosity, often falling silent as she approached.

  She caught glimpses of Julian only during formal meal services, where she observed from a serving position rather than attending him directly. He appeared physically recovered but subdued, his usual thoughtful expression repced by a careful bnk mask that revealed nothing of his inner thoughts.

  Augustus, by contrast, seemed to have taken on a new role—that of solicitous elder brother. He was frequently seen at Julian's side, offering ostentatious assistance and publicly prociming concern for his youngest brother's wellbeing. The court, predictably, praised this apparent dispy of fraternal devotion.

  "Pying the hero after arranging the danger," Natalie muttered to herself as she shelved ancient tax records in the furthest corner of the archives. "And positioning himself as Julian's protector to limit my access."

  It was clever strategy—isoting Julian from his most trusted ally while presenting himself as the caring brother. Whether the court truly believed this performance was less relevant than its practical effect: Natalie could not reach Julian to offer guidance or support during this critical period following his public humiliation.

  On the evening of the third day, as Natalie was preparing to return to her small chamber after hours of dusty archival work, an unexpected visitor appeared at the archive door.

  "Lady Emmeline," she gasped, hastily curtseying as she recognized the young noblewoman.

  At sixteen, Lady Emmeline Harrington had blossomed into a strikingly intelligent young woman whose schorly interests made her unusual among the court's nobility. Her connection to Julian had strengthened over recent months, their shared passion for knowledge creating a bond that transcended the differences in their ages and stations.

  "Miss Foster," Emmeline acknowledged with a warm smile. "I've been hoping to speak with you."

  Natalie maintained appropriate deference while her mind raced with questions. Why would Lady Emmeline seek her out? And how had she known where to find her?

  "I'm honored by your attention, my dy. How may I serve you?"

  Emmeline gnced around the empty archive before responding, her voice dropping to a confidential tone. "It's about Prince Julian. He's not himself since the incident at the ke, and I'm concerned about the influence Prince Augustus seems to be exerting."

  The direct reference to pace politics from a noble to a servant was shocking—a breach of protocol that revealed Emmeline's serious concern.

  "It's not my pce to comment on the retions between the princes, my dy," Natalie replied carefully.

  "Perhaps not officially," Emmeline agreed. "But unofficially, you're the person who knows Julian best—the one he trusts most." She stepped closer, lowering her voice further. "He needs your guidance now more than ever, Miss Foster. His confidence has been severely damaged."

  Natalie hesitated, torn between protocol and her desperate concern for Julian. "I've been temporarily reassigned, my dy. I cannot approach Prince Julian without proper authorization."

  "Which is why I'm here," Emmeline replied with a triumphant smile. "I've arranged a private study session with Julian tomorrow morning—ostensibly to discuss the Nordician texts he's been transting. As a noblewoman, I'm permitted an attendant. I've specifically requested you, citing your familiarity with the library cataloging system."

  The cleverness of this arrangement momentarily stunned Natalie. It provided perfect cover for her to interact with Julian without arousing Augustus's immediate suspicion.

  "That's... most thoughtful, my dy," she managed, unable to fully hide her gratitude.

  Emmeline's expression grew serious. "Julian helped me once, when others mocked my schorly interests. He treated my questions with respect when other courtiers dismissed them as inappropriate for a woman. I haven't forgotten that kindness."

  Natalie remembered Julian mentioning this—how he had defended Lady Emmeline's intellectual pursuits during a court gathering, earning the sting appreciation of both the young noblewoman and her influential mother.

  "The study session is scheduled for the tenth bell in the western library alcove," Emmeline continued. "Augustus rarely visits that section—the military histories hold little interest for him."

  "I'll be there, my dy," Natalie promised. "And... thank you."

  Emmeline smiled again, her eyes reflecting genuine concern for Julian. "We all need allies, Miss Foster. Especially in this pace." With a final nod, she departed, leaving Natalie with unexpected hope amid her growing concerns.

  The following morning, Natalie arrived at the western library alcove precisely at the appointed time. The secluded study area, nestled between towering shelves of ancient military histories, provided both privacy and a clear view of approaching visitors—an ideal location for their cndestine meeting.

  Lady Emmeline was already seated at the heavy oak table, several Nordician texts spread before her. Julian sat opposite, his posture more rigid than Natalie remembered, his expression carefully neutral even as he gnced up at her approach.

  "Miss Foster," Emmeline greeted her with deliberate formality for the benefit of any observers. "Thank you for assisting us. Prince Julian requires several additional references for our study of Nordician battle accounts."

  "Of course, my dy," Natalie curtseyed, catching Julian's eye briefly—long enough to see the relief that flickered there at her presence.

  For the next half hour, they maintained the pretense of academic study. Emmeline asked intelligent questions about Nordician military tactics, Julian responded with measured analyses, and Natalie retrieved relevant texts as requested. Anyone observing would see nothing but a schorly discussion between a young noble dy, a prince, and a serving maid.

  Eventually, Emmeline rose with carefully orchestrated purpose. "I believe I'll examine the maps section for the territorial boundaries we discussed. Miss Foster, please continue assisting His Highness with the pronunciation guides. I'll return shortly."

  It was deftly done—creating a legitimate reason for her temporary absence while leaving Natalie and Julian alone in the alcove. As soon as Emmeline disappeared among the shelves, Julian's composed facade crumbled.

  "Natalie," he whispered urgently, "Augustus has been watching my every move. This is the first time in days I've been without his surveilnce or one of his allies nearby."

  "I've noticed," she replied softly, moving closer to the table. "How are you truly, Your Highness? Beyond the physical recovery?"

  Julian's hands tightened on the book before him. "Struggling," he admitted with painful honesty. "The humiliation was... considerable. Father hasn't spoken directly to me since the incident. The court whispers cease whenever I enter a room, then resume as soon as I depart."

  Natalie's heart ached at the defeat in his voice. "Your brothers engineered both the failure and the aftermath. The swimming garment was deliberately altered, and the guard boats were clearly instructed to dey their response."

  "I know," Julian nodded. "But knowing doesn't change the outcome. I failed publicly, confirming every whisper that I'm weak, unworthy of my position." His voice dropped even lower. "Perhaps they're right."

  "No," Natalie said with sudden fierceness that made Julian look up in surprise. "That's precisely what Augustus wants you to believe. This isn't just about one humiliation—it's about breaking your spirit, making you doubt yourself so completely that you abandon any ambition or confidence."

  Julian studied her face, searching for reassurance. "The court saw me fail. How do I recover from that?"

  It was the essential question—one Natalie had been considering intensively during their forced separation. How does one recover from public humiliation in a world where appearances dictate reality?

  "By transforming the narrative," she replied carefully. "Not by denying what happened, but by changing how it's interpreted."

  Julian's brow furrowed. "I don't understand."

  "Every story can be told in different ways," Natalie expined, drawing on memories of her father's discussions of narrative structure in the books he bound. "Right now, the court sees your failure as evidence of weakness. But what if it became evidence of something else instead?"

  "Such as?"

  "Determination. Resilience. The courage to attempt something despite inadequate preparation." Natalie leaned forward slightly. "Your brothers ensured you never received proper swimming instruction, then engineered a situation where that deficiency would be exposed. The true story isn't your failure—it's their deliberate sabotage and your perseverance despite it."

  Julian considered this reframing with his characteristic thoughtfulness. "But how do I convince others to see it that way? I can hardly announce that Augustus tried to drown me."

  "Not directly, no," Natalie agreed. "But there are other approaches." She gnced toward the shelves where Emmeline had disappeared, ensuring they remained alone. "You must transform this setback into an opportunity—one that demonstrates your character rather than your physical limitations."

  "How?"

  Natalie outlined the strategy that had formed during their separation—a careful, multi-faceted approach that would gradually shift perception without directly challenging Augustus's power.

  "First, you request formal swimming instruction—publicly acknowledging the deficiency but framing it as determination to improve rather than embarrassment over failure. Second, you continue your schorly pursuits with renewed focus, reminding the court of your intellectual strengths. Third, and most importantly, you demonstrate grace under pressure—thanking those who express concern while showing neither self-pity nor bitterness."

  Julian absorbed these suggestions with growing interest, his natural strategic mind engaging with the challenge. "Creating a new narrative where the incident becomes a stepping stone rather than a disgrace."

  "Exactly," Natalie affirmed. "And there's one additional element—you must appear to reconcile with Augustus, accepting his 'protection' while quietly establishing your independence."

  Julian's expression darkened. "Pretend gratitude to the brother who tried to drown me?"

  "Strategic submission," Natalie corrected gently. "Like the martial arts Master Wei described in his treatise—using an opponent's force against them rather than opposing it directly."

  She could see Julian struggling with this concept—his pride battling against practical necessity. Finally, he nodded slowly. "A tactical retreat to prepare for a more favorable engagement."

  "Precisely," Natalie smiled, pleased by his understanding. "And remember—Augustus expects you to remain defeated. Your resilience will be more disorienting to him than any direct challenge could be."

  Their conversation was interrupted by Lady Emmeline's return, her arms den with map folios that provided perfect justification for her absence. With barely a missed beat, they resumed their schorly discussion, though Natalie noted the subtle but significant change in Julian's demeanor—a straightening of his shoulders, a renewed focus in his eyes.

  As their session concluded, Julian addressed both Natalie and Emmeline with formal courtesy. "Your assistance has been invaluable. Lady Emmeline, your insights on Nordician territorial disputes are particurly astute. Miss Foster, your knowledge of the library's resources remains unparalleled."

  The praise was perfectly calibrated—appropriate to their stations while acknowledging their contributions. Emmeline responded with a graceful nod, but Natalie caught the flicker of approval in her eyes at Julian's renewed composure.

  "It's been my pleasure, Your Highness," Emmeline replied. "Perhaps we might continue these studies next week? I find the northern military histories particurly illuminating for understanding current diplomatic retions."

  "I would welcome that," Julian agreed, his tone measured but genuine.

  As they prepared to depart, Julian addressed Natalie directly. "Miss Foster, I believe my regur duties will require your attendance beginning tomorrow. Please inform Madame Bckwood that your temporary reassignment has concluded."

  It was a prince's prerogative to determine his service requirements—a small assertion of authority that would be difficult for Augustus to counter without appearing petty.

  "Yes, Your Highness," Natalie curtseyed, hiding her satisfaction at this first small step in Julian's recovery.

  In the corridor outside the library, Lady Emmeline paused before they separated. "He seems better for having spoken with you," she observed quietly. "Whatever counsel you provided appears to have had positive effect."

  "His Highness has remarkable resilience," Natalie replied carefully. "He merely needed reminding of his own strengths."

  Emmeline studied her with unexpected intensity. "You care for him greatly, don't you? Beyond the duties of your position."

  The observation caught Natalie off-guard. "I serve His Highness to the best of my ability, my dy."

  "As do many," Emmeline acknowledged. "But few understand him as you do." She smiled slightly. "It's good that he has you, Miss Foster. The pace can be a lonely pce for those who don't fit prescribed expectations."

  Before Natalie could formute a response to this surprisingly perceptive comment, Emmeline continued. "I'll arrange another study session next week. Until then, watch over him carefully. Augustus's solicitude conceals continuing malice—I've seen how his eyes follow Julian when he believes himself unobserved."

  "You're very observant, my dy," Natalie noted, reassessing her impression of the young noblewoman. Emmeline was clearly more politically astute than her schorly reputation suggested.

  "I've had to be," Emmeline replied with unexpected candor. "Women at court are either decorative or invisible—I've found advantage in being considered the tter while pursuing my intellectual interests."

  With that intriguing statement, she departed, leaving Natalie to consider that they might have gained a valuable ally in their ongoing struggle against Augustus's machinations.

  The following day, Natalie resumed her duties as Julian's personal attendant. She arrived at his chambers early, prepared for the potential complications of their reunion after the public drama at the ke. What she found surprised her—Julian was already awake and dressed, reviewing correspondence at his desk with focused attention.

  "Good morning, Your Highness," she greeted him with a formal curtsey.

  Julian looked up, his expression composed but warmer than it had been in the library. "Good morning, Miss Foster. I trust Madame Bckwood had no objection to your return to regur duties?"

  "None, Your Highness," Natalie confirmed, noting the subtle changes in his demeanor—a straightening of his posture, a directness in his gaze that had been absent during their library meeting. "She mentioned only that your health remains her primary concern."

  "My health is much improved," Julian replied, rising from the desk with deliberate purpose. "In fact, I've made several decisions during our... separation."

  Natalie waited, sensing the importance of whatever would follow.

  "First," Julian continued, "I've requested formal swimming instruction from Master Loren, beginning next week. I've acknowledged to Father that my skills were inadequate and expressed determination to remedy that deficiency."

  It was exactly the approach Natalie had suggested—facing the humiliation directly while reframing it as an opportunity for growth.

  "Second, I've composed letters to those nobles who expressed concern after the incident, thanking them for their consideration while assuring them of my recovery and continued dedication to my imperial duties."

  Another perfect implementation of their strategy—demonstrating grace and maturity rather than wounded pride.

  "Third," and here Julian's expression took on a subtly ironic quality, "I've expressed gratitude to Augustus for his brotherly concern, requesting his continued guidance in areas where my experience is limited."

  Natalie couldn't help but admire the elegant execution of their pn. "Your Highness has been most... productive during our separation."

  "I had excellent guidance to consider," Julian acknowledged, the brief comment conveying his gratitude for her advice. "There is one additional development, however, that we did not anticipate."

  "Oh?" Natalie's internal arm activated instantly.

  "Father has been so impressed by my 'mature response to adversity' that he's granted me a special privilege—attendance at the provincial governors' council next month." Julian's eyes reflected genuine excitement beneath his controlled expression. "It's a significant opportunity—normally princes aren't included until at least twelve years of age."

  This was indeed unexpected—a substantial advancement in Julian's position that suggested their strategy was already yielding results beyond anticipation.

  "That's remarkable, Your Highness," Natalie replied, genuinely pleased for him despite the potential complications such visibility might create. "The governors' council discusses matters of genuine imperial governance."

  "Exactly," Julian nodded. "Not ceremonial duties or public dispys, but actual administrative decisions affecting the empire." He lowered his voice slightly. "Augustus was visibly displeased when Father announced it at this morning's family breakfast. Apparently, he wasn't granted simir access until he was fourteen."

  Natalie processed this development carefully. The opportunity represented significant advancement for Julian—but also increased danger. Augustus would perceive this special privilege as direct threat to his influence.

  "We must prepare thoroughly," she advised. "The council will expect not just presence but participation. You'll need comprehensive understanding of current provincial issues, historical precedents for administrative decisions, economic considerations—"

  "Already begun," Julian gestured to the correspondence spread across his desk. "I've requested briefing materials from Master Holloway and several of Father's under-secretaries. Lady Emmeline has also offered access to her family's records regarding northern provincial management."

  Natalie felt a surge of pride at his initiative. The defeated boy of a few days ago had transformed into a purposeful young prince with remarkable speed. Their strategy of reframing was working—Julian was converting humiliation into opportunity through deliberate, strategic action.

  "There's one other matter we should discuss," Julian added, his tone becoming more serious. "Your intervention at the ke has drawn... unwelcome attention. Augustus has been making inquiries about your background with increasing intensity."

  "Madame Bckwood mentioned as much," Natalie acknowledged, keeping her tone neutral despite the fear that flickered within her.

  "She seems to be... intercepting certain inquiries," Julian observed carefully. "Though I don't understand her motivation for doing so."

  It was as close as Julian had ever come to questioning Natalie's background directly. She chose her response with extreme care, aware that any expnation must be pusible without revealing her true identity.

  "Madame Bckwood knew my mother during their service years," she replied, offering truth without completeness. "There's a certain loyalty among long-serving staff that transcends normal hierarchies."

  Julian nodded, accepting this expnation without further questioning—a trust that simultaneously relieved and troubled Natalie. His faith in her was both precious and precarious, built as it was upon a necessary deception.

  "In any case," he continued, "we should minimize references to the incident. Your swimming ability has already attracted more attention than is comfortable for either of us."

  "Agreed, Your Highness."

  As they settled into their regur routine—reviewing his schedule, preparing for the day's lessons, organizing correspondence—Natalie observed Julian with careful attention. The humiliation at the ke had indeed been a significant setback, but his recovery demonstrated something more valuable than mere resilience.

  Julian was learning to transform adversity into advantage—to use the very weapons wielded against him as tools for his own advancement. It was a sophisticated political skill that would serve him well in the treacherous waters of imperial politics.

  But as she watched him apply himself to preparation for the governors' council with renewed determination, Natalie couldn't suppress a flicker of concern. Their success in countering Augustus's test attack would inevitably provoke a more dangerous response. The eldest prince had attempted humiliation; when that ultimately failed, what would he try next?

  And perhaps more worrying: as Julian grew in confidence and capability, how long would he continue to need Natalie's guidance? The thought troubled her more than she cared to admit, revealing an uncomfortable truth—somewhere along this perilous journey, her commitment to Julian had evolved from mere survival strategy to genuine devotion.

  She was no longer simply protecting him to ensure her own safety. She was investing in his growth, his potential, his future as a man who might someday shape the empire with wisdom rather than force.

  It was a dangerous attachment for someone living behind a fragile disguise. Yet as she watched Julian methodically prepare for his next challenge, Natalie knew she wouldn't—couldn't—abandon him, regardless of the growing risks to herself.

  They had survived public humiliation and emerged stronger. Whatever came next, they would face it together—the forgotten prince and his disguised protector, bound by shared secrets and growing trust in a pace full of shadows and whispers.