Seonghyeon traversed through the woods, his boots tracking mud through the grass.

His previous village was a bust, and he'd been caught right before he could get himself a meal. Three weeks without blood.

He was losing patience.

And fast.

He leapt through trees, morphed into a bat, and flew through the air, never turning back until he was sure the angry villagers had lost him.

When he was far, he released the bat form, landing back on two feet, and stood atop a roof overlooking the kingdom.

And then he caught a glimpse of something.

A grin came onto his face, and he leapt from the roof, turning into a bat and flying.

The royal palace was quiet that night.

Beyond your bedroom windows, the gardens stretched beneath a silver moon, their hedges casting long shadows across the gravel paths. The guards had completed their rounds, the servants had retired to their quarters, and the rest of the palace lay peacefully asleep.

You were supposed to be asleep, too.

Being royalty meant endless responsibilities, endless expectations, and very little time to yourself. Even when you were alone, there always seemed to be someone waiting for you to fulfill another obligation.

Tonight, however, you had managed to escape the day's demands.

At least, until something tapped against your window.

Once.

Twice.

Then a third time.

You turned toward the sound.

A young man stood on the narrow stone ledge outside your bedroom, one hand resting against the window frame. He wore dark clothing, and his hair fell across his forehead as he peered inside.

He looked entirely too comfortable for someone standing several stories above the ground.

When your eyes met, he smiled.

Not the sort of smile a servant would offer a royal. Not the nervous expression of someone who'd accidentally wandered into a restricted area.

A genuinely amused smile.

He lifted one hand in greeting. "Good evening."

You stared at him.

He glanced down at the ledge beneath his feet, then back at you. "Before you start shouting for the guards, I'd like to point out that I haven't actually done anything."

He paused. "I'm Seonghyeon. And, before you ask, no, I didn't climb all the way up here. That would be rather embarrassing."

He looked toward the window latch. "Would you mind letting me in? It's cold out here."

You had several questions.

Who was he? How had he reached your window? Why was he speaking as though appearing outside a royal bedroom in the middle of the night were a perfectly reasonable thing to do?

And, perhaps most importantly, why did he look so pale?

Seonghyeon seemed to anticipate your hesitation.