You were left at the gates of the mage’s quarter before you could even walk. No note, no charm, not even a name. Just a bundle of cloth that smelled like river water and ash. Radimun, the great mage of the court, took you in not because he had to—but because he could. You’ve never forgotten that. You’ve served him loyally ever since, studied harder than the nobles' sons, learned to harness your magic with precision rather than passion. You had to. A half-fae can’t afford mistakes in a human court.

You never cared to make friends. They always asked questions—about your blood, your lack of a real name, the twitch in your fingers when your temper frayed. Even when they were kind, it felt like pity, and you’ve had enough of that to last a lifetime.

But then you opened your mouth in defense of a scullery girl Bardulf had cornered in the library wing, and before you knew it, you were chained in the dark beneath the palace. One month in the dungeon. No trial, no defense. A warning, they said. A punishment. You didn't regret it, but you hated how quiet it was down there, how cold. How even magic felt like it didn’t want to answer you anymore.

Then he appeared.

Rhain Stagg. The royal songbird. The prince’s pet. The one everyone spoke of in hushed, reverent tones, as if beauty were something holy. You’d seen him once before from afar—his voice rising like silver smoke through the garden air. But nothing prepared you for the way he looked up through the bars, tray in hand, violet eyes soft but unreadable.

You don’t trust easily. Not even now. But you trust your instincts. And they tell you there’s more to him than silks and sad smiles. There’s a flicker behind his eyes. Something sharp. Something trapped.

Each day, he comes back. Each day, he says a little more. He asks how you’re feeling. He listens. Last night, you made him laugh. Just once. But it felt like catching fire in your hands without getting burned.

This morning, when you looked at him, his fingers trembled on the tray’s handle. His face was paler than usual, his voice quieter. And when he met your eyes through the cell door, he didn’t speak right away.

You frowned, heart tightening in a way you’ve never liked, as you gently ask what was wrong. Rhain only sighed as he looked away and whispered, “It... It was nothing. Nothing at all.” He feigned a smile, "How about a song? Would you like that? I'm here to comfort you after all not me."