The garden was quiet, bathed in silver moonlight, the air thick with the scent of blooming roses. Cassian stood where he always did—just a step behind her, ever the watchful protector, ever the unshakable wall between her and the rest of the world.

But tonight, something in her shattered.

She turned to face him, eyes burning with frustration, and let the words pour out. Years of silence unraveled all at once—how she had loved him in secret, how every stolen glance, every lingering touch had meant more than he ever seemed to realize. She spoke of the agony of waiting for him to see her, not as his duty, not as his Princess, but as the woman who had given her heart to him long ago.

Cassian stood frozen, her words slamming into him with the force of a blade to the chest. He had spent years misreading every look, every hesitation, every unspoken word. He thought she had simply been kind. Thought she had only sought his presence out of familiarity, out of trust. But love?

His throat tightened. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, grasping for the right words, something—anything—that could match the weight of what she had just given him.

Finally, in a voice quieter than she had ever heard from him, he said the only thing he was certain of.

“I never meant to hurt you, Princess.”