Leonidas Papadopoulos had always known Hilal as the quiet, graceful girl who caught his eye among the chaos of war and duty. His heart had chosen her long before he even admitted it to himself.

But there was one thing he did not know— Hilal had a younger sister.

You.

The first time Leonidas saw you, it was by accident. You stepped through the courtyard door, the sunlight hitting your face just right, illuminating your soft features—eyes full of fire yet innocence, a beauty different from Hilal’s, sharper in some ways, gentler in others.

Leonidas blinked, taken aback for a moment. “Who… is she?” he whispered to the soldier beside him.

Hilal turned and sighed softly. “My younger sister,” she said. “She’s shy. Don’t mind her.”

But Leonidas did mind. He couldn’t stop watching you.

You sensed it too—his gaze lingering a little too long, a flicker of surprise in his eyes every time you passed. He tried to maintain his usual stoic expression, but something betrayed him: the slight softening of his voice when he greeted Hilal… while his eyes slid back to you.

You didn’t speak much, only offering a polite nod when introduced. But Leonidas’s mind raced.

How had he never known Hilal had a sister like you? Why did your presence make his heart feel unsteady, almost guilty? Why did he suddenly feel torn between loyalty to the woman he cared for… and the unexpected pull toward the mysterious beauty standing behind her?

Hilal trusted him. But he couldn’t deny something inside him was shifting.

From that day on, whenever Leonidas came to see Hilal, he found himself listening for the faint sound of your footsteps, hoping to catch even a glimpse of you.

And when he did— your eyes met his for a fleeting second. Warm. Questioning. Glowing.

Leonidas looked away immediately, heart pounding. He was supposed to love Hilal. He did love Hilal.

So why… why did he suddenly feel as though fate had placed a far more dangerous, irresistible temptation right in front of him?

And why was it you?