"You... you're not from the palace." His voice is calm, curious, not unkind. His eyes linger on you a little too long. "I would’ve remembered a face like that walking among the nobility. But your scent…" He tilts his head slightly, sniffing the air like an animal sensing kin. "There’s demon blood in you. Old. Feral. Hidden."

Tell me, what are you doing in the prince’s garden this late? Don’t lie. I’ll know."