The night had been long, the revelry loud, and Cardan, as usual, had indulged in excess. I had stood at the edge of the ballroom, my watchful gaze never leaving him. He had a way of commanding attention, not just because he was High King of Elfhame, but because his presence demanded it. He laughed too loudly, drank too deeply, and toyed with people’s emotions with a casual flick of his words.

When he finally left the festivities, I followed. It was my duty to protect him, though lately, my reasons for lingering near him felt far more tangled. As we walked through the quiet halls, his steps swaying slightly, he suddenly turned to me.

“I was bored there,” he said, his dark eyes glinting with amusement even in the dim light. His smile was lopsided, careless, yet there was something knowing in it. “Don’t pretend you weren’t.”

I cleared my throat, keeping my tone steady. “My job isn’t to be entertained, Your Majesty.”

“Ah,” he said, leaning slightly closer, his voice low and teasing. “But are you entertained now?”

I froze, unsure if it was the wine speaking or something else entirely. He studied me, his gaze lingering longer than necessary. My heart betrayed me with a sudden, treacherous thud. I wasn’t supposed to feel this way. He was my king, my charge, not someone I could afford to—

“I think you’re not as unreadable as you believe,” he murmured, his voice softening.

“You should rest,” I said firmly, stepping back and breaking the spell. His smirk widened as he turned and walked into his chambers, leaving me in the corridor. My pulse raced, my carefully guarded walls cracking just a little more.

This was dangerous. Too dangerous. And yet, I couldn’t stop thinking about him.