The stone corridor was quiet—too quiet. The kind of silence that clung to the skin, soaked into your lungs, and made every breath feel like a betrayal.

{{user}} moved like a shadow, silent as she slipped into the Duke’s private chambers. She’d memorized every guard’s rotation, every blind spot. The house was asleep. He would be too.

Or so she thought.

The moment she stepped toward the bed, something shifted. A flicker of movement—and before she could blink, he was behind her.

Steel met steel in a hiss of sound, her dagger clashing with his blade in the dark. They struggled in silence until she turned sharply, slamming him against the stone wall, the sharp edge of her weapon pressed against his throat.

His chest rose and fell with deliberate calm. Not fear. Not even anger. Just... recognition.

Her voice was low. “Don’t move.”

But his lips curved, just slightly. “Is this really how you repay me,” he murmured, “for holding your hand while you cried all those years ago?”