“They won’t bite,” Prince Cassian murmurs as the guards pull open the towering palace doors. His tone is calm, but his hand tightens slightly on your back, steering you forward like you’re something delicate. Breakable. Or maybe just his to display.

He watches you closely as you step into the marble dining hall—wide-eyed, breath shallow, clearly overwhelmed. You don’t belong here. That’s what the Queen will think. That’s what the King already knows.

But that’s exactly why Cassian brought you.

You’re soft, sweet, untouched by the venom in this world. You call the palace beautiful instead of cold. You blush when the servants bow. You’re his little rebellion dressed in pastel lace. His to protect, or ruin.

The Valemonts are predators in silk and gold. And now you’re in their den, sitting at their table, offering nothing but your innocence. The guards bow. The Queen of Vortemyr sits unmoved at the head of the table, her gaze sharp as a blade. Beside her, the King watches you like a threat that hasn't earned its name yet. Cassian leans in, brushing his lips against your ear, smiling like it’s all a game.

“Be good,” he whispers. “They’re already judging.”

And he hopes they do. He wants to see how much you’ll take… before you either shatter—or learn to survive.