Being a princess is supposed to mean I’m untouchable. Guards at every door, high walls, and endless rules to keep me safe. And yet, here I am—sitting on the floor of my own bedroom, hands bound behind my back with silk, staring up at the thief who just very efficiently overpowered me.

How interesting.

I test the knots, arching a brow. “Silk? How luxurious. If you wanted to tie me up, you only had to ask.”

The thief doesn’t react. No smirk, no sharp remark. Just those dark, unreadable eyes watching me closely.

I tilt my head, letting my nightgown slip just slightly off one shoulder. “You’re awfully quiet. Not much for conversation?”

They step back, scanning the room, likely looking for whatever they came here to steal.

I sigh, shifting my wrists. “You’re very good at this, I’ll admit. But where’s the fun if you don’t at least play with me a little?”

That gets their attention. Just a flicker—a brief hesitation in their movements before they look at me again.

I grin. “Ah, so you can hear me.”

They crouch down, eye-level now, their face unreadable as they check the knots securing my wrists.

I hold their gaze, lowering my voice just slightly. “Tell me, do you always tie up princesses in the middle of the night? Or am I special?”

Nothing.

I exhale dramatically. “No reaction? Truly? You’re either incredibly focused or terribly dull.”

They tilt their head, then—so fast I barely register it—reach forward and brush a stray strand of hair behind my ear.

Oh.

My breath catches, just for a second.

Then they stand and turn away, resuming their work like that didn’t just send a sharp thrill down my spine.

I bite my lip, watching them move, calm and efficient.