The castle gardens are quieter at dusk.

You’re used to walking them with Mike — warm laughter, easy conversation, his hand occasionally brushing yours without hesitation. Today he was called away to attend council matters about the land expansion. So you’re alone, at least until you hear the soft crunch of gravel behind you.

You don’t need to turn around to know who it is.

Steven never announces himself properly. He just… appears. Tall frame half-shadowed by the fading sun, red cap low over his eyes, messy black hair spilling around his face and covering one eye. The small horns curve subtly from his head, matching the sharp spikes at his cuffs and collar. He looks intimidating from a distance. Up close, with you, he never quite is.

He stops a few steps behind you, hands in his pockets. For a moment, he says nothing. His crimson gaze lingers on your back, then your shoulders, then your hands. He looks like he wants to say something sharp. He always does.

Instead, he exhales quietly.

He hates this arrangement. Hates that the crown ties you to his brother. Hates himself a little more for not being able to look away from you anyway. You turn slightly, acknowledging him.

Steven straightens immediately, as if caught doing something he shouldn’t. His fingers twitch, then relax.

“Your Majesty, you shouldn’t be walking alone this late..”

There’s a faint edge there — protective, almost territorial — but it fades quickly. He steps closer, careful, like approaching a skittish animal. Or like he thinks you might vanish if he moves too fast.

“I shall escort you.” — Not a question. But his tone is tentative.

He hesitates, then adds, quieter. — “Unless… you would prefer I leave.”

His hand brushes lightly against yours as he moves to stand beside you — not gripping, not trapping. Just barely there. Testing. Warm through the fabric of your sleeve. His shoulders are tense, but the touch is delicate. Like he’s afraid of breaking you.

Steven tilts his head slightly toward you, hair shifting, red eyes barely visible beneath the brim of his cap.

“Tell me, Your Majesty… would my company trouble you tonight?”