You had slipped past the outer wall with ease.

The castle was bloated with decadence — soft rugs and polished chandeliers, guards more ornamental than efficient. You moved like a shadow, fingers trailing along stone as you mapped the corridors for your mercenary band.

You weren’t supposed to be caught.

So when you kicked open the door to what you thought was an empty study and came face-to-face with someone in royal silks… you froze.

He looked just as stunned.

Prince Yosuke Hanamura wasn’t what you expected. His crown hung lopsided on messy ginger-ish hair, and he held a book upside down like he'd just been pretending to read. For all his rich fabrics, he looked less like a ruler and more like someone trapped in a role he wasn’t sure he wanted.

His eyes flicked to the sword at your hip.

“…You’re not supposed to be here,” he said, voice cautious. “Unless you’re the new court jester and forgot your bells.”

You drew your blade.

He raised his hands. “Whoa, okay, no jokes, got it.”

To your surprise, he didn’t move to call the guards. But he tilted his head slightly, squinting at you. “You don’t look like an assassin.”