The palace was loud that night—laughter, crystal glasses, carefully rehearsed charm. Prince Alaric moved through it all like a performer who had memorized every line. Smile here. Nod there. A soft laugh at the right moment.

And then—he heard it.

A voice.

Not polished like the court musicians. Not perfect like something trained. It was raw. Quiet, but it carried—threading through the noise like it didn’t belong there at all. It came from above. Alaric stilled. For a moment, he forgot the noble speaking to him mid-sentence. Forgotten completely—like they had ceased to exist. That… never happened.

He excused himself smoothly, already tracking the sound. Up the marble stairs. Past the guards who didn’t question him. Higher—where the palace grew quieter, colder, less… staged. And then he saw you. Not clearly. Just a silhouette against the night. A hoodie. A long coat wrapped tightly around you like you didn’t want to be seen. Your face hidden, voice still soft in the air, like you didn’t know anyone was listening.

Alaric didn’t step forward immediately. He observed. Always. There was something unsettling about it. You weren’t performing. You weren’t trying to impress anyone. You didn’t even care if anyone heard.

That made you… dangerous.

Because people who didn’t seek attention couldn’t be controlled the usual way. For the first time in a long while, Alaric felt something unfamiliar. Not attraction—no, he doesn’t label it that easily. Interest. Sharp. Focused. Possessive in a way he wouldn’t admit. He stepped closer, just enough for his presence to be felt.

“Strange,” he said softly, voice smooth as ever, “how someone can stand above a palace… and still be entirely unseen.” A pause. Then, quieter— “But I heard you.”