Kylar’s eyes snapped open to darkness and the low, muffled quiet of an inn. For one disorienting second, he was still somewhere else. Still tangled in warmth and breath and the lingering phantom of her laugh in his ear. Then the real world pressed in: low ceiling, thin blanket, the faint smell of old wood and lamp oil.

  Shade’s gloved hand rested on his shoulder, giving him a firm shake. “Your watch,” Shade murmured, voice flat and eyes to match.

  Kylar sat up fast, then forced himself to slow. He swallowed, dragging his mind back into its proper shape. Soldier. Guard. Prince when he had to be, shadow when he preferred. Not a man whose dreams had teeth and soft hands and a dangerous ability to make him forget himself. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, boots waiting where he’d left them. The motions were ritual, familiar. Leather. Buckles. Laces pulled tight. Knife checked. Second knife checked. The quiet comfort of weight and steel.

  Shade had already rolled onto his side again as if sleep was a switch he could flip. Kylar didn’t buy it. Shade seemed like the type that slept the way wolves did: lightly, with one ear open and a hand close to a weapon.

  Kylar rose, adjusted his shirt, and moved to the door. Darius was on his side asleep in the other bed. Kylar slipped into the hallway and pulled the door shut with care, turning the latch so it didn’t click. The corridor was dim, lit by lamps turned low enough to keep the drunk and curious from wandering. Floorboards whispered under his boots. Somewhere below, a distant murmur of a late-night conversation. Then silence again.

  He leaned his back against the wall and let his head rest back for a heartbeat. Cool plaster. Grit. Grounding.

  He could do this. He could always do this. It was everything outside the watch that had started to feel… complicated. Groaning internally at the thought of what he’d left unfinished. He flushed a little and took a deep breath. He would have to apologize to her.

  A soft scuff of boots brought him back.

  Zen emerged from the shadow near the stairwell, hair mussed, eyes half-lidded with sleep. He looked like he’d dragged himself upright out of sheer stubbornness. He dropped into the chair Kurt had been using earlier, stretched his legs, and gave Kylar a lazy wave. Kylar returned it with a small nod.

  Zen yawned wide enough to swallow a prayer. “You’re dedicated,” he whispered. “You could just pull rank and sleep, you know.”

  Kylar kept his head back against the wall. “Tempting.”

  Zen squinted at him, as if trying to read the shape of Kylar’s thoughts from his face. “Tempting? Because of sleep? Or Tempting because..” He gestured vaguely with his hands. "I don't know. Something else tempting."

  Kylar closed his eyes for one careful second. “Zen.”

  Zen held up both hands in mock surrender. “I’m not saying anything. I’m just… observing. You look like you got woken up in the middle of a very important dream.”

  Kylar’s mouth twitched despite himself. He hated that Zen was close enough to the truth to be irritating.

  Zen leaned forward, elbows on knees, voice dropping like the walls might carry gossip. “How’d the day go, really?”

  Kylar opened his eyes. The question wasn’t about patrols or threats. Zen could have asked those. Zen was asking the other thing. The thing everyone watched and pretended not to watch.

  Kylar kept his tone neutral. “We’re moving. We’re safe. No incidents.”

  Zen only looked more entertained. “Fine. I’ll phrase it differently. How did she do?”

  That should have been a simple question. It wasn’t. Kylar exhaled slowly. “She handled the carriage ride better than I expected.”

  Zen’s brows rose. “Because she’s polite, or because she enjoyed it?”

  Kylar didn’t answer right away. He didn’t want to give Zen too much. Zen collected details like a magpie. Zen didn’t wait for permission. “Here’s what I saw,” he whispered, and his tone shifted, less teasing and more observant. “When she rode with you earlier, she laughed like it didn’t cost her anything. Like it was easy. And you… you looked easy too.”

  Kylar’s jaw tightened a fraction. He didn’t deny it. Zen continued, eyes flicking down the hall and back, always checking even while he talked. “When she’s with Damon, she’s pleasant. She answers. She’s kind. But she’s… careful. She’s choosing her words the way nobles do when they’re being watched.”

  Kylar’s throat worked. He hadn’t wanted anyone else to notice those differences. He’d noticed them. He’d been trying not to count them like they meant something.

  Zen’s grin returned, quick and sharp. “Also, when you’re near her, you stop looking like you’re carrying the kingdom on your back.”

  Kylar’s gaze shifted to Zen, wary. “You’ve known me how long?”

  Zen shrugged. “Long enough to know your shoulders don’t drop for anyone.” He pointed vaguely down the corridor, in the direction of Kairi’s rooms. “Except your family...and now her.”

  Kylar looked away first, because that was safer.

  Zen leaned back in the chair, satisfied with himself. “So. I’m calling it.”

  Kylar’s eyes narrowed. “Calling what.”

  Zen’s grin spread. “Darius and I already decided.”

  Kylar’s brows rose slightly. “Decided what.”

  Zen whispered like this was classified information. “We’re team Dato.”

  Kylar stared at him, exhausted and faintly horrified. “There are… teams.” He turned his gaze back down the hallway and landing back on Zen.

  Zen nodded solemnly. “There’s a betting pool.”

  Kylar dragged a hand down his face. “Saints.”

  Zen’s expression was delighted. “Want to know who’s betting for Damon?”

  Kylar lowered his hand slowly, resigned. “Of course there are people betting for Damon. Wouldn't be fair if everyone was betting for me.”

  Zen ticked them off with his fingers. “Fenway, Tamsin, and Gibson.”

  Kylar nodded once, like he was filing enemy troop movement. “Figures.”

  Zen leaned forward again, eyes bright. “And for you?”

  Kylar hesitated. He hated that he cared. He hated even more that the curiosity was louder than his pride.

  “Who else for me?” he asked quietly.

  Zen sat up straighter, pleased to deliver the news. “Jayce and Kurt.”

  Something in Kylar’s chest eased. Jayce made sense. Kurt too, in his quiet, steady way. It wasn’t that Kylar needed allies, exactly. But it was… grounding to know someone saw what he was trying to do and didn’t assume he’d ruin it.

  He exhaled once, slow. “That’s… good.”

  Zen smirked. “Right? It’s like you actually have a chance against your brother.”

  Kylar’s gaze drifted down the hall again, toward the rooms where Kairi slept. The corridor was still. Quiet. Safe. For now. A small thought. She is alone and will wake alone. It hit him low in the stomach that he’d left her like that. His voice came out rougher than he intended. “If I get broody or jealous, distract me next time.”

  Zen’s face lit up like he’d been handed a gift. “He admits it!”

  Kylar shot him a look. Zen held up a hand. “No, no, I’m serious. That’s not nothing. Most men like you pretend jealousy is beneath them and then do something reckless.”

  Kylar’s jaw flexed. “I don’t do reckless.”

  Zen’s grin sharpened. “You do controlled. Which is just reckless with better posture.”

  Kylar huffed a quiet breath that might have been a laugh if it had tried harder.

  Zen sobered slightly, tone gentler. “You’re not jealous because she spoke to Damon,” he said. “You’re jealous because Damon gets to be charming without consequences. He doesn’t have to wonder if every wrong move will cost him her trust.”

  Kylar looked at Zen again, sharper this time. “That’s… specific.”

  Zen shrugged. “I watch people. It’s my job. Also, assuming you built some trust with her this past week. Well, sure hope you tried anyway. Saints help you if you didn't"

  It was also, Kylar realized, how Zen survived. Not just with a blade. With observation. With knowing what mattered before it exploded. Even if it came out reckless and just Zen.

  Zen added, quieter, “For what it’s worth, she’s more invested in you. I’d bet my next month’s pay on it.”

  Kylar’s throat went tight. “You don’t know that.”

  Zen’s eyes flicked over him. “I know what I saw. Her laughter, like I said. And the way she leaned in when she rode with you. Not polite. Not staged. Just… comfortable.”

  Kylar stared at the wall across from him as if it might offer a safer topic.

  Zen, because he couldn’t help himself, said, “Also, I’m fairly certain Damon’s flirting technique is ninety percent leaning close and hoping women don’t notice he’s terrified of heights.”

  Kylar’s mouth twitched. “He told you that?”

  Zen grinned. “No. But, on the road out here, he was asking half the guards for advice on how to win over his 'future wife'." He paused on that. "You didn't hear that from me."

  Kylar only groaned. "...Future wife?" Zen only shrugged in response.

  A brief silence fell between them, the kind that wasn’t awkward. Just the quiet of men on watch.

  Then Zen shifted in the chair, rolling his shoulders. “How’s Darius taking it?” he asked, more thoughtful. “Being her guard. Being near all of… this.”

  Kylar’s answer came easier. “Darius is steady.”

  Zen snorted softly. “Steady. And mildly terrified.”

  Kylar glanced at him.

  Zen’s grin turned sideways. “Don’t look at me like that. She’s a princess with magic and opinions. Darius is learning new definitions of ‘responsibility.’”

  Kylar’s mouth curved, small and reluctant. “He’ll manage.” Kylar pushed off the wall and rolled his shoulders once, the motion loosening the last of the dream-cling in his muscles. “Anything unusual? Shade didn't say anything. Did Kurt?”

  Zen’s face went professional again. “Nothing. Quiet. People are sleeping. A drunk tried to find the wrong room earlier, but Kurt redirected him with a glare.”

  Kylar nodded. “Good.”

  He hesitated, then murmured, almost reluctant to say it aloud, “Thanks.”

  Zen’s grin softened into something less sharp. “Anytime, Ky.”

  Kylar began his rounds, slow and silent. Window latch. Back stair door. Corners listened to. Shadows watched. He returned to Zen’s chair after, and Zen lifted two fingers in greeting like they had done for years in different posts. Kylar settled back against the wall again, posture loose but ready. The hallway stayed quiet. The inn breathed in its sleep. The road waited for morning.

  And in the quiet, despite himself, Kylar held onto Zen’s simplest observation like it was a weapon he could keep.

  She laughed easier with you.

  It didn’t solve anything. But it made the night feel survivable.

  Morning came the way travel mornings always did: too early, too practical, and utterly indifferent to how little sleep anyone got.

  The inn’s common room smelled like browned butter, strong tea, and bread that had been warmed twice. Boots thudded overhead. Someone laughed too loud for the hour. Someone else hissed at them to stop. Fenway appeared, as if summoned by the concept of “things needing done,” and began directing people with the calm menace of a man who had survived too many noble “helpful suggestions” on the road.

  Damon sat through breakfast with the easy smile he could wear like armor. He ate enough to look polite, drank enough to look awake, and spent the rest of the time watching the room like it was a stage and he was trying to predict where the next scene change would happen.

  Across the room, Kairi stood outside near the door, already bundled for the road. She was giving Onyx attention like it was a solemn duty. The war-stallion leaned into her hands as if he’d been starved of affection for years, despite being a creature who had likely been praised, brushed, and pampered more than most nobility.

  Damon watched that enormous head angle toward her shoulder. Watched the contented huff. Watched her laugh under her breath and scratch behind his ear. And then, because Damon had eyes and a functioning brain, he watched his younger brother.

  Dato hovered near Slate and Onyx with the casual stance of a guard, but his gaze kept returning to Kairi like a compass needle that refused to point anywhere else. Not possessive. Not even obvious, if you didn’t know what you were looking for. Just… fixed. Like his attention belonged to her in a quiet, unquestioned way. How his body was angled toward her even when his gaze was down the road checking things.

  Damon had seen that look before. Ryder wore it these days when Serenity was in the room, even when he tried to hide it behind “Crown Prince composure.” It slipped through anyway, softening the hard edges of a man who carried too much.

  Damon’s mouth tightened for the briefest moment. So that’s what it is. Not a weeklong infatuation. Not a flirtation to pass time on the road. Something that had already dug deep.

  He found himself considering a thought he didn’t like admitting: maybe he should ask Kairi, plainly, what she thought of Dato. Not to compete, not really. Just… to know where he stood in this strange new shape of their world.

  Then another thought followed, sharper and inconvenient. If her answer was “I love him,” what would Damon do with that?

  He didn’t have time to unpack it because Fenway clapped his hands once, brisk as a command.

  “Load up,” Fen said. “We move in ten.”

  The courtyard outside was all early light and cold breath. Horses shifted, tack creaked, guards checked straps and weapons with the same methodical rhythm they used to check doors. Darius did a slow sweep of the perimeter, eyes alert, posture calm, as if he’d been born for this exact job.

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  Kairi made her rounds too, in her own way. She touched Onyx’s cheek once more, murmured something only he was allowed to hear, then turned toward the carriage.

  Rush was already mounting, moving to Jayce’s side with the quiet decisiveness of someone who had decided he needed space to think and didn’t want to do it inside a box on wheels. Jayce glanced toward the carriage, then back to Rush. Whatever passed between them was too subtle for anyone who wasn’t used to men who communicated in half-looks and unfinished sentences.

  Kairi paused at the carriage step, eyes flicking to Rush. “So,” she said, tone light but carrying the faint edge of last night’s storm. “You’re abandoning me.”

  Rush’s expression didn’t change much, but his eyes did. “I’m riding,” he said. “You’re safer in the carriage through the first stretch.”

  “Mm,” she answered, unconvinced.

  Jayce swung into his saddle with a grin. “He means I asked him to talk with me some more.”

  Kairi’s eyes narrowed. “I need to talk to him.”

  Rush leaned down just enough to murmur, “We will talk later.” and patted her shoulder like he had always done. " I promise. I will sit and we will talk."

  Kairi’s mouth twisted. “I will hold you to that.” she whispered back.

  Damon, came up to the carriage and offered his hand to her to help her in. "Kairi" She watched Rush settle in beside Jayce as they moved further back in the line. Her attention back to Damon as she took his hand and he helped her into the carriage. He followed in after her. After she was seated, she saw Darius coming over.

  “Princess,” Darius said quietly, stepping to the carriage door with the professional calm of a man who had accepted his fate.

  Kairi looked at him. “Kairi." She corrected.

  Darius nodded. "Kairi"

  She grinned. "Yes?”

  “Would you like me inside or outside?” he asked, and it was the same question he’d asked yesterday, only now it sounded like he’d been thinking about it all night. She noted the difference. The fact that he was genuinely asking, genuinely willing to adjust, softened her expression.

  “Inside,” she decided after a beat. “For the gorge.”

  Darius nodded once. “As you wish.”

  Damon’s stomach did a small, unpleasant roll at the word gorge. Right. That was today. He squared his shoulders, put on his most effortless smile. Darius climbed in, settling across from them near the door, positioned exactly where he could see out and react fast.

  The carriage jolted as Fenway clicked his tongue and the horses leaned into the pull. Outside, hooves and wheels and shouted instructions blurred into motion.

  Kairi sat beside Damon, hands folded in her lap, shawl tucked around her elbows. She looked out the window for a while, watching the inn shrink behind them. Damon took a breath and decided to do what he did best.

  “Alright,” he said lightly. “Tell me something about you that isn’t terrifying.”

  Kairi turned her head toward him, eyes bright with mischief she didn’t bother to hide. “Terrifying is subjective.”

  Darius made a sound that might have been agreement if he hadn’t turned it into a cough.

  Damon kept his smile in place. “Princess. Please.”

  She tapped her chin like she was considering it seriously. “I like books.”

  Damon relaxed a fraction. “That’s reasonable. I can work with that.”

  “I like herbals,” she continued.

  He nodded, that was still fine.

  “I like climbing towers,” she added casually.

  Damon’s smile froze. Darius stared at the window and wondered what type of stress he would be putting himself through when she goes to climb towers.

  Kairi’s lips curved. “What?”

  Damon cleared his throat. “Nothing. I’m just… thrilled to learn you have hobbies that involve… altitude.”

  “Walls, too,” she said brightly. “The lake view from the palace walls is supposed to be beautiful.”

  Damon’s lungs forgot their purpose for a moment. He managed, “Yes. Wonderful. Lovely. You will absolutely enjoy that with someone who does not believe height is a personal insult. Like Darius.”

  Kairi’s grin widened. Darius spoke before Damon could be dragged into any future “fun” that involved falling to his death. “Her Highness asked if the walls would make me anxious,” he reported with stiff dignity.

  “And?” Damon asked, hopeful.

  “I said yes, for her safety. The heights don't bother me as much.” Darius replied immediately.

  Kairi laughed, warm and unbothered, and Damon realized with a strange twist in his chest that he liked that she didn’t take their fear as weakness. She found it… human. Something to tease gently, not something to punish.

  Damon shifted, letting his hand lay on his knee again, palm up and open like yesterday. Kairi glanced down at the offer, then placed her hand in his without hesitation.

  He closed his fingers around hers slowly, careful not to grip like a man trying to claim something.

  He tried for casual. “You were serious yesterday,” he said, watching her face. “About wanting to switch between carriage and horseback.”

  Kairi nodded. “I like variety.”

  “I like surviving,” Damon said with a sigh. “So yes. Variety is excellent. Just… perhaps not the kind involving cliffs.”

  Kairi’s eyes danced. “I only said I liked diving off cliffs.”

  Damon stared. “Only.”

  Darius’s eyes closed briefly, like a man praying for patience. "The walls should not be treated as cliffs in Carlbrin."

  Kairi’s smile softened, as if she realized she was poking the sore spot too much. “I don’t do it often,” she conceded. “And not anymore. Not like I used to. I also know the walls are not cliffs. Mylain's cliffs had deep pools beneath them. Was a summer activity for most of the residents. We would race. Krez was always faster..."

  Damon caught the small shadow behind that sentence, the hint of a past that had been harsher than her laughter suggested. He didn’t push. He simply lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles, a gentle press that felt more like reassurance than flirtation.

  She didn’t pull away. Good. Win. Small wins.

  The carriage rocked over uneven ground as the road began to angle downward. The air changed. Cooler. Sharper. The light dimmed slightly as cliffs rose on either side, swallowing the sky in slow increments. Damon’s stomach tightened. Kairi noticed, letting her thumb stroke his hand softly.

  “You’re quiet,” she said, turning fully toward him now.

  Damon tried to keep his tone light. “I’m savoring the moment before we all plummet into the gorge.”

  Kairi blinked, then looked out the window as if the landscape had just informed her of a personal betrayal. “Oh,” she said, understanding dawning. “It's not just a dislike, it's a fear?”

  “It is.” Damon confirmed with the solemnity of a man confessing a tragic flaw.

  Darius, across from them, watched this exchange and wondered how much that cost Damon to admit.

  Kairi’s brows knit, and for a moment she looked almost guilty. “I didn’t think about that. I'm sorry for teasing.”

  Damon lifted their joined hands slightly, keeping the contact. “It’s fine. I have many virtues. Bravery simply isn’t one of the ones that shows up near bridges.”

  Kairi huffed a laugh, then squeezed his hand once, gentle. “You’re brave in other ways.”

  Damon’s chest warmed despite himself, and he wasn’t entirely sure why that simple sentence mattered more than the polished compliments he could trade like coins.

  Outside, the road narrowed. The gorge announced itself with sound before sight: wind, distant water, the hollow echo of wheels on stone.

  Damon’s eyes flicked to the window and immediately regretted it. The bridge ahead was ancient and narrow, stone worn smooth by centuries of crossings. It arched like a spine over a drop that didn’t look real until your brain politely informed you that it absolutely was. Damon’s mouth went dry. He heard his own voice, too calm for how he felt. “So. This is where I die.”

  Kairi’s hand tightened on his. “You’re not going to die.”

  Darius shifted subtly, posture bracing. “If anything approaches the carriage on the bridge, it dies first.”

  That was… not the reassurance Damon wanted, but it was something.

  The carriage rolled forward. Damon stared straight ahead with the determination of a man refusing to acknowledge gravity out of spite. He focused on Kairi’s hand in his. On the warmth of her fingers. On the steady rhythm of the horses’ hooves.

  Not on the wind that rose up from the gorge like a hungry breath. Not on the way the bridge seemed to float over emptiness. Not on the fact that he could feel every inch of it through the wheels. Kairi leaned closer, voice low. “You’re doing fine.”

  Damon laughed weakly. “If you tell anyone I’m terrified, I will deny it. Dramatically.”

  Her lips curved. “Noted.”

  They crossed. The moment the far wheels hit solid ground again, Damon exhaled like he’d been holding his breath since birth.

  He turned his head just enough to look at Kairi with a grim, triumphant smile. “See? Unkillable.”

  Kairi’s laugh was bright, and it loosened something in Damon’s ribs that had been too tight for too long.

  Darius, ever helpful, murmured, “We still have the return bridge later.”

  Damon’s smile fell off his face. “Darius.”

  Kairi covered her mouth, trying not to laugh harder. The road curved onward through the gorge, and the worst of the bridge was behind them. Damon’s pulse slowed, inch by inch. As the carriage settled into a steadier rhythm, Damon found his mind circling back to the thing he’d noticed all morning. The way Dato looked at her. The way she looked… softer when she spoke his name, even when she was teasing.

  He kept his voice light, careful. “Can I ask you something without you throwing me off a cliff for entertainment?”

  Kairi glanced at him, amused. “Probably.”

  Damon took that as permission. “My brother,” he said, choosing the word deliberately. Not Dato. Not Prince. Just brother. Something personal. “Kylar. What do you think of him?”

  Darius’s gaze flicked between them curious of this answer, also curious why Damon was asking.

  Kairi didn’t answer instantly. She looked out the window for a beat, as if checking her thoughts the way you checked a lantern wick before trusting it.

  Then she turned back. Her voice was simple. Honest. “He makes me feel safe.”

  Damon’s chest tightened. Not jealousy, exactly. Something quieter. Acceptance arriving like a door closing softly.

  She continued, softer, as if she didn’t realize she was giving Damon more truth than most people ever got. “He listens. Even when he’s stubborn. And when he doesn’t understand something, he tries anyway. He… tries so hard it makes me want to be gentler.”

  Damon swallowed. He kept his smile in place, but it wasn’t as effortless now. It was real.

  “That’s a very inconvenient answer for me,” he admitted.

  Kairi’s expression warmed. “I’m sorry.”

  Damon shook his head once. “Don’t be. I asked.” He squeezed her hand, careful. “And I’d rather know the truth than chase something that isn’t there.”

  Kairi studied him for a long moment, then gave a small, sincere nod. “Thank you.”

  Damon leaned back against the seat, exhaling slowly. He didn’t feel defeated. Not exactly. Just… clearer.

  He glanced out the window again, catching a glimpse of riders ahead.

  Rush and Jayce, riding side by side, heads tipped toward each other in conversation. And farther up along the curve of the road, Kylar on horseback, posture steady, turning his head just slightly keeping watch.

  Damon watched him and thought, with a rueful sort of fondness, Saints, little brother. You really did it.

  Kairi shifted beside him, still holding his hand, still warm, still herself. Damon decided, quietly, that if this was not meant to be his love story, it could still be part of his becoming. And for now, at least, he had survived the bridge. That counted as heroism in his book. He let the quiet sit between them for a breath longer than was comfortable.

  Kairi’s words still hovered in the carriage like a warm lantern that had been set down too close to something fragile. He makes me feel safe. Damon had expected a dozen answers. Clever ones. Vague ones. Maybe even evasive ones.

  Not that.

  His thumb traced once over the side of her hand, almost absent-minded, and then he stopped himself.

  Slowly, carefully, he eased his fingers away and drew his hand back to his own knee, as if he were putting distance between himself and a temptation he didn’t want to disrespect. His smile stayed, but it shifted into something softer.

  “I should be more thoughtful of my brother,” he said quietly, like it was a vow spoken to the carriage floor.

  Kairi didn’t reach after him. She simply nodded, accepting the boundary without making it a wound. Her hands returned to her lap, fingers folding neatly together. For a heartbeat she looked out the window, watching the cliff walls drift by like slow-moving giants.

  Then her mouth quirked, and the mischief returned, gentler this time.

  “You can hold my hand at the next bridge,” she said, voice lowered like a conspirator. “Our secret.”

  Damon’s face truly opened into a real smile, the kind that wasn’t practiced and didn’t ask for approval. Relief and gratitude flickered through him, bright as a match.

  “You are very kind,” he told her, and there was weight behind it. “Please treat him as such.”

  Across from them, Darius stared like he’d just watched a man voluntarily step away from a winning hand in cards.

  “You… just gave up?” Darius asked, bluntly stunned.

  Damon blinked at him, genuinely confused by the surprise. “I love my brother,” he said, as if that answered everything. Then, because it did, he added, “and he is trying very hard. And he is very in love. You can't tell me you haven't ever seen him like this before.”

  Darius’s expression didn’t change for a long second. His mind was clearly rearranging itself around this new information: Prince Damon, notorious flirt, decides to be honorable. He took a moment before he responded. "Kylar hasn't ever shown interest before no." He let himself have a small smirk thinking back on all the times their unit would sit around and talk. Zen always thought it was strange he wasn't seeking girls in every town by the forts and posts they took on. Kurt had even mentioned once that he should take advantage of his title and looks. Apparently, the soldier prince just needed a girl who liked to climb towers and throw herself off cliffs. Who had no fear of his horse and sparred with him with ease. Maybe Kylar needed a challenge. Not a soft lady with powders and silks.

  Kairi let out a small, nervous laugh, as if laughter was the only safe way to carry the awkwardness without dropping it. It pulled Darius's attention back to her.

  “So,” she said, glancing between them, “we are keeping secrets now?”

  Damon leaned back against the carriage cushion with a dramatic sigh, suddenly every bit the prince again, but the warmth remained. “Absolutely,” he said. “I can be your secret keeper.”

  Kairi’s brow arched. “That’s a bold claim.”

  “It’s not,” Damon replied, dead serious. “It’s a skill. I’ve kept secrets for years. Most of them involve avoiding responsibility and pretending I don’t know where Ryder’s patience ends.” He tilted his head, eyes glittering. “Also, I can assist in all your endeavors involving my little brother.”

  Darius made a sound in his throat that might have been suspicion. Damon ignored it with the ease of a man who had spent a lifetime being ignored by people who took him too seriously.

  “For example,” he continued, lowering his voice as if he were revealing state secrets rather than snack preferences, “Kylar likes those small cookies dipped in chocolate. Dark chocolate. The bitter stuff.”

  Kairi laughed, the sound bright enough to make the carriage feel less heavy. She tipped her head, eyes narrowing with delight. “That is valuable information.”

  “It is,” Damon agreed solemnly. “People underestimate the power of treats.”

  Kairi turned her gaze to Darius, her smile going sharp in a playful way. “Want to join the secrets about Kylar club?”

  Darius hesitated the way men hesitate when they know a door is about to close behind them forever. And the thought didn't scare him. This was going to be his life going forward as her guard. Secret Kylar club and all. Then, against his better judgment, he couldn’t help the small curve of his mouth. “I’m already part of it,” he muttered.

  Damon perked up. “Excellent. Contributions?”

  Darius sighed and thought about it for a while. “Kylar notes small things about each outpost and village we visit. It’s all in his journals.”

  Kairi’s grin grew, slow and delighted, like she’d been handed a new map. “He keeps journals?”

  Darius nodded once. “Religiously. Supplies, road conditions, names, small customs. Who’s reliable. Who’s lying. It’s… thorough.”

  Kairi’s eyes went distant for a moment, already imagining it. “That’s something I would like to see.”

  Damon’s smile softened. “He’d probably let you,” he said, and the implication was clear: he’d let you see anything, if you asked kindly.

  Kairi’s fingers lifted to the chain at her throat. The gesture was casual at first, thoughtless… and then it wasn’t. Her touch slowed. Her expression sharpened into something like courage.

  “Alright,” she said quietly, and the air in the carriage shifted, attentive. “My turn.”

  She drew the chain out from beneath her dress.

  The ring slid into view, catching the filtered daylight. Not gaudy. Not decorative. A piece of weight and history worn close to the heart. Kairi held it in her palm like it could burn her and comfort her in the same breath.

  “He gave me this,” she said, voice carefully steady. “And he’s still waiting for my answer. But…” Her thumb brushed the band once. “I kept it. So that’s an answer in itself in Naberia, correct?”

  Darius and Damon stared.

  Damon, on instinct, reached for the curtain and yanked it shut with one quick, decisive motion. Darius mirrored him on the other side, closing off the windows like they’d suddenly remembered privacy existed. The carriage became smaller. Safer. Conspiratorial.

  Damon let out a light laugh that didn’t quite hide the jolt in his chest. “He is… very serious,” he murmured. “I really had no choice. He may have challenged me to a duel or something.”

  Kairi’s cheeks warmed, but she didn’t look away. She looked… pleased. Quietly proud.

  Darius leaned forward, palm open. “May I see?”

  Kairi hesitated for a heartbeat, then nodded. She lifted the chain over her head, careful not to snag her hair, and placed it in Darius’s hand.

  Darius held it like it was heavier than it should be. His gaze dropped to the ring. His mind went somewhere else entirely: all the times he’d seen Kylar with that chain tucked beneath a collar. All the times it had flashed in training, or during sparring, or in those quiet moments when Kylar thought no one was looking and had rubbed his thumb over it like reassurance.

  “He never wore it on his finger because of duty,” Darius said under his breath, more to himself than them.

  Damon glanced down at his own ring, then back at the one in Darius’s hand. Two princes. Two paths. One woman sitting across from them with a ring that wasn’t hers by law but might be by fate.

  Darius finally handed it back. Kairi took it with immediate care and slipped it over her head again, tucking it back into place like she was returning something precious to its rightful home. It rested against her sternum, hidden once more, but now the secret had teeth.

  Darius cleared his throat. “He basically asked to court you,” he said, as if he were reciting rules from a manual. “A courting gift. If he’s waiting for an answer, then it’s a gift not accepted yet.”

  Kairi’s brows knit. “But I’m wearing it.”

  “That’s… complicated,” Darius admitted. “With your circumstances, he may not push. Not until you’re established in Carlbrin. Not until the court can’t corner you with expectations you didn’t ask for.”

  Damon’s mind was working too fast now, stringing the politics together like beads. “Did he ask you to keep it secret?” he asked, watching Kairi closely.

  Kairi thought, genuinely considering the moment. “Mostly just you,” she said, and her eyes flicked toward Damon. “He didn’t want you to feel like he… cheated.”

  Damon’s face softened in a way that startled him. “He’s worried about my feelings,” he said, half incredulous.

  Darius’s mouth quirked. “He’s worried about everyone’s feelings. He just pretends he isn’t.”

  At the next thought Damon voiced, carefully.

  “Did he ask your brother?” Damon asked. “Rush would technically be your guardian for courting or… betrothal agreements.”

  Kairi’s eyes widened. “Betrothal?”

  Darius started to respond and then stopped mid-breath.

  A shadow passed close to the carriage. Hooves. A rider drawing alongside.

  Darius’s voice dropped instantly. “Keep it hidden till we can inform you about customs” he whispered, all humor gone, pure guard in the words.

  Kairi nodded and placed her hands in her lap and calmed herself. A knock sounded at the window. Darius pulled the curtain back just enough to see out and slid the window open a careful inch. Jayce’s face appeared there, wind-reddened and amused, his horse stepping in easy rhythm beside the carriage.

  “Captain Vale?” Darius greeted, formal.

  Jayce’s grin sharpened. He pointed ahead with a gloved hand. “Second bridge is coming up,” he said. “I believe Her Highness wanted to ride the second bridge?”

  Kairi leaned toward the window, brightness flashing across her face like sunlight breaking through cloud.

  “I do,” she said sweetly. “Very much.”

  Jayce’s eyes danced, like he knew exactly what kind of chaos that sentence could create. He tipped his head in a brief nod to Darius and then looked past him to Damon, brows lifting in wicked sympathy.

  Damon stared back, expression carefully pleasant, and mouthed with perfect clarity: Saints help me.

  Jayce laughed silently, clicked his tongue to his horse, and eased forward again.

  Inside the carriage, Kairi clasped her hands in her lap as if she hadn’t just detonated a new plan.

  Darius stared at her. “Princess,” he said flatly.

  Kairi blinked at him with exaggerated innocence. “Yes?”

  Damon exhaled and leaned his head back against the cushion. “Alright,” he murmured, bracing himself like a man about to face battle. “Our secret club is adjourned until we survive the next bridge.”

  Kairi’s looked to him for a moment. " I can stay."

  Damon looked at the roof of the carriage. "No, go enjoy the bridge and your reckless sense of excitement. I survived the road to brindlecross, I can survive one more bridge."

  And Darius, somewhere between horror and resignation, began calculating exactly how many ways a princess could get herself killed while technically following orders.