"And that," Julian concluded, gesturing to a cluster of white star-shaped flowers, "is the silver asteria, mentioned in General Tarkus's accounts of the Northern Campaigns. The soldiers used it to treat arrow wounds."

  Lady Emmeline Harrington nodded appreciatively, making a note in the small leather-bound journal she carried. At sixteen, the daughter of Duchess Harrington had become a regur visitor to the pace, her schorly interests aligning neatly with Julian's. What had begun as occasional meetings in the library had evolved into a genuine friendship—one of the few Julian had formed outside his bond with Natalie.

  "Remarkable that something so delicate could save soldiers' lives," Emmeline observed, carefully sketching the flower in her journal. "My botany tutor never mentioned its medicinal properties."

  Julian smiled, pleased to have impressed her. "Most people overlook it entirely. Master Holloway showed me a rare herbalist's text that details its preparation. The crushed roots must be mixed with wine and honey to be effective."

  They continued along the winding path of the imperial botanical gardens, a collection of pnts gathered from across the empire's vast territories. Though technically still within the pace grounds, the gardens stretched far enough from the main buildings to create an illusion of escape from court life—one reason Julian had suggested it for today's excursion.

  Natalie followed several paces behind, as proper for an attendant. At fourteen, she had perfected the bance of being present without intruding, alert without appearing to listen. Today, however, her usual composure was unsettled by a nagging sense of unease.

  The outing had been arranged too quickly. The gardens were unusually empty of other courtiers. And Natalie had noticed two unfamiliar guards at the eastern gate—men whose posture and alertness differed subtly from the regur pace guard.

  "Your Highness," she called, quickening her pace to catch up to Julian and Lady Emmeline. "Perhaps we should return to the main gardens. The cloud cover suggests rain may be approaching."

  Julian gnced at the clear blue sky with confusion, but something in Natalie's expression caught his attention. "Perhaps you're right," he agreed. "Lady Emmeline, shall we view the rose pavilion instead? It's closer to the pace."

  Before Emmeline could respond, the sound of approaching footsteps came from around the curve ahead. Three men appeared on the path—dressed in the livery of pace groundskeepers, but with a tension in their bearing that immediately set Natalie's instincts alight.

  "Your Highness," the leader addressed Julian with a bow that was a heartbeat too shallow, "begging your pardon, but this section of the garden is closed for maintenance today."

  Julian frowned. "No one informed me. We've only just come from the main—"

  He didn't finish the sentence. In one fluid motion, the three men drew short swords from beneath their groundskeeper smocks and advanced. Their intent was unmistakable.

  "Run!" Natalie shouted, grabbing Lady Emmeline's arm with one hand and Julian's with the other, pulling them backward.

  Julian recovered from his shock with remarkable speed. "This way," he said, tugging them toward a narrow side path partially hidden by ornamental bushes.

  The "groundskeepers" pursued, their earlier pretense abandoned. "Take the boy alive if possible," the leader called. "The women are expendable."

  Natalie's mind raced as they fled down the winding garden path. Her heart pounded with fear, but she forced herself to think clearly. These weren't common bandits or opportunistic kidnappers. Their coordination, their knowledge of the gardens, and their focus on capturing rather than killing Julian suggested something far more calcuted.

  The path narrowed between high hedges, emerging into a small enclosed garden dominated by a decorative stone fountain. Julian pulled up short, his face paling. "It's a dead end."

  Natalie pushed Julian and Emmeline behind her, scanning their surroundings with desperate intensity. The fountain, the high hedges, a small marble bench—nothing offered obvious escape or advantage.

  "Lady Emmeline," she said quietly, "when I engage them, take His Highness through there." She nodded toward a barely visible gap in the hedge, likely used by gardeners for maintenance. "Follow the sound of water to reach the main canal. Pace guards patrol it regurly."

  "Engage them?" Julian stared at her. "Natalie, there are three armed men—"

  "Please, Your Highness," she interrupted, her voice steady despite the fear coursing through her. "Trust me."

  The sound of their pursuers grew louder. Natalie gnced around the enclosed garden once more, then grabbed a slender brass rod from the fountain's decorative railing. It wasn't much, but it might give her the moments they needed.

  "Remember what we discussed about perception, Your Highness?" she said, her eyes fixed on the path entrance where their attackers would appear. "Sometimes an opponent's greatest weakness is their assumption."

  Julian nodded slowly, understanding dawning in his eyes. "They'll underestimate you because—"

  "Because I'm a girl," Natalie finished. "And because I'm your attendant, nothing more."

  Lady Emmeline looked between them, confusion evident on her face, but there was no time to expin further. The first of their pursuers burst into the garden, sword drawn.

  "Nowhere to run now, Your Highness," he said with a cruel smile. "Come quietly and no one needs to be hurt."

  Natalie stepped forward, the brass rod held loosely at her side. "The prince is under my protection," she said, her voice higher and more tremulous than usual. "Please, sirs, there must be some misunderstanding."

  The men ughed, exactly as she had anticipated. The leader gestured dismissively. "Step aside, girl. This doesn't concern you."

  "But it does," Natalie insisted, taking another step forward, her posture shifting subtly. "You see, I'm responsible for the prince's safety."

  The leader nodded to one of his companions. "Deal with her. Quickly."

  The man advanced, sword raised carelessly, clearly expecting minimal resistance from a pace attendant—a young girl, no less. It was the assumption Natalie had counted on.

  As he swung his sword in what was meant to be an intimidating but non-lethal strike, Natalie reacted with desperate instinct rather than skill. She ducked awkwardly under his swing and thrust the brass rod forward with all her might, striking his kneecap by sheer luck. The man howled in pain and stumbled, losing his bance on the garden's uneven stones. He went down hard, his sword cttering across the stone pavement.

  "Now!" Natalie shouted, already turning to face the other two attackers.

  Julian grabbed Lady Emmeline's hand and pulled her toward the hedge gap. The leader of the assaints cursed and lunged toward them, but Natalie was faster. She rolled across the garden pavement, snatching up the fallen sword, and rose to block his path.

  "You were told I was just an attendant," she said, her stance shifting to a banced defensive position that spoke of training far beyond that of a common servant. "Someone failed to do their research properly."

  The man's eyes widened in surprise, but he recovered quickly, advancing with his own sword raised. "It doesn't matter. You're still outnumbered."

  Indeed, the third attacker was circling to her fnk, while the first was rising from the ground, a dagger now in his hand. Natalie knew she couldn't defeat all three in direct combat. But she didn't need to win—she only needed to dey them long enough for Julian and Emmeline to escape.

  "Julian, go!" she called, abandoning formality in the urgency of the moment.

  From the corner of her eye, she saw Julian hesitate at the hedge gap, clearly torn between escape and loyalty. "I won't leave you," he called back.

  "You must," Natalie insisted, parrying a thrust from the leader with a csh of steel. "Lady Emmeline needs your protection now."

  It was a calcuted appeal to Julian's sense of responsibility—one that worked. With a st anguished look, he disappeared through the hedge with Lady Emmeline.

  The leader snarled in frustration. "After them!" he ordered the third man, who immediately moved toward the hedge.

  Natalie couldn't let that happen. In desperate panic, she swung the sword wildly toward the pursuing man, more to distract than to wound. By sheer luck, the bde grazed his leg. He cried out more from surprise than pain, stumbling against the hedge.

  The momentary success cost her. The leader's sword sliced across her upper arm, tearing her sleeve and drawing blood. Natalie gasped but stumbled backward, clutching the sword awkwardly in defense, clearly unfamiliar with its weight and bance.

  The leader stared at her with a mixture of frustration and disbelief. "Lucky little servant girl," he spat. "Your luck won't st."

  Natalie didn't waste breath on a response. The cut on her arm burned, and she could feel warm blood soaking her sleeve. Two against one were poor odds, and the third man, though injured, was now moving back toward the fight rather than pursuing Julian.

  She needed a new strategy.

  The fountain behind her gave her an idea. Natalie spshed water across the stone pavement, then retreated to drier ground. When the first attacker charged her, his footing slipped on the wet stone just as she'd hoped. As he filed for bance, Natalie swung the sword's pommel toward him with both hands, connecting with his temple more by chance than design. He colpsed to the pavement, unconscious.

  Two left. But the leader was more cautious now, and the wounded man had drawn a dagger to complement his sword. They spread out, trying to fnk her.

  "Impressive," the leader acknowledged, "but futile. Even if the prince escapes today, he'll never be safe. There are more of us than you know."

  The statement confirmed Natalie's suspicions—this was no random attack but part of a coordinated plot. Before she could contempte the implications, both men rushed her simultaneously.

  Natalie managed to parry the leader's sword, but the wounded man's dagger slipped past her guard, slicing across her ribs. She staggered, pain ncing through her side, and nearly lost her grip on the sword.

  The garden suddenly echoed with shouts and the pounding of boots on stone. Pace guards poured in from the main path, swords drawn. The wounded attacker turned to flee, but was quickly surrounded. The leader, seeing his pn colpse, made a desperate lunge at Natalie—perhaps hoping to eliminate a witness—but a guard's arrow caught him in the shoulder before he could reach her.

  As the guards secured the attackers, Natalie sank to her knees beside the fountain, suddenly light-headed from blood loss and fading adrenaline. Through blurring vision, she saw Julian push through the guards, his face white with concern.

  "Natalie!" He knelt beside her, supporting her as she swayed. "You're injured—we need a physician immediately!"

  She managed a weak smile. "You're safe. That's what matters, Your Highness."

  "You saved my life," Julian said, his voice thick with emotion. "And Lady Emmeline's."

  Captain Darius approached, his expression grave. "Your Highness, we must return you to the pace immediately. These men may have accomplices."

  Julian nodded, but didn't move from Natalie's side. "My attendant needs medical attention first."

  "Of course," the captain agreed, signaling to his men. "We'll bring her with all haste."

  As two guards gently lifted Natalie onto an improvised stretcher, Julian walked beside her, his hand briefly brushing hers in a gesture of silent gratitude and support. Despite her pain and growing weakness, Natalie felt a surge of fierce protectiveness. She had done her duty—kept her prince safe against impossible odds. Yet even as darkness crept around the edges of her vision, questions pulsed through her mind.

  Who had sent these assassins? How had they known exactly where to find Julian? And most disturbingly, what had the leader meant by "more of us than you know"?

  As they carried her back toward the pace, Natalie held onto consciousness through sheer will, determined to remain alert until Julian was safely within the pace walls. Only when they passed through the guarded gates did she finally surrender to the darkness pulling at her, secure in the knowledge that, for the moment at least, her prince was safe.