You had once loved Hayate Saegusa in secret—dangerously, recklessly. A shinobi cloaked in shadows and silence, his hands stained with blood, yet with a soft spot known only to you. Now, he was meant to be rotting in the palace dungeons, branded a traitor to the emperor. At least, that’s what everyone believed.

You sat stiffly on the edge of the polished wooden platform, your layered kimono trailing like mist across the polished floor. The Chrysanthemum Hall was hushed, save for the measured voices of the elders debating fate and duty. Before them stood Fujiwara no Arata—a noble of great standing, the third son of the emperor, today’s suitor. Clad in jade-green robes embroidered with cranes, he bowed low, his intentions clear in every refined gesture.

But your gaze was distant, far beyond the gilded walls.

Suddenly, the heavy sliding doors burst open with a sharp crash.

A trembling court eunuch stumbled inside, breathless. “A criminal has escaped the dungeons! The shinobi—Hayate Saegusa—he is gone!”

Gasps spread like wildfire. Before anyone could react, you felt it.

A strong arm coiled around your waist, firm and possessive.

Your breath caught as a familiar presence pressed close behind you, dangerous and undeniable. A whisper—soft and rough—brushed the shell of your ear.

“Did you miss me?” “I told you—I will always come back for you.”

His voice was like a blade wrapped in silk, his breath against your skin sending shivers that were equal parts fear and yearning.