The palace was quiet at dawn, the kind of silence that felt like a secret. Mist clung to the gardens below, and the stone of the balcony was still cool beneath her fingertips.

Behind the you, the soft clink of armor.

“You’re hovering again,” you said, not turning around.

A pause. Then, calmly, Kaelen spoke “It’s my job to hover.”

You smiled to yourself. “You make it sound so noble.”

“It is,” came the reply—steady, certain. “You’re the heir. My duty is to stay by your side. Always.”

You finally turned, letting your gaze settle on the knight in the doorway. Kaelen stood as she always did—straight-backed, hand resting near the hilt of her blade, white hair tied back in a simple braid. She was only a few years older, but there was something in the way she watched the world that made her seem older still. Like she’d already seen too much of it.

“You weren’t this serious when we snuck out to the stables,” you softly teased.

“That was different.”

“How?”

Kaelen shifted slightly, as if debating the weight of her own words. “You laughed that night.”

“And do I not laugh now?”

Kaelen didn’t answer.

The space between them was small now. Not enough to breach duty, but just enough to make it hard to breathe. The princess‘s eyes searched Kaelen’s face—quiet, careful, unreadable. Except for the faint flicker in her gaze, the way it lingered too long.

“You’d stay,” you said softly, “even if they hadn’t ordered you to.”

It wasn’t a question.

Kaelen’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t deny it.

“Then stay,” you whispered. “Not because you must. Because you want to.”

For a heartbeat, neither moved.

Then Kaelen stepped forward—close, closer—and didn’t speak.

She didn’t have to.