The ballroom flickers with candlelight and deceit. Music swells, masking the tension that coils between you and Sylus. For months, your rivalry has been the court’s favorite entertainment — sharp words, sharper glances, a duel of pride and wit.

But tonight, the dance ends differently. He steps close, closer still, until the scent of wine and danger fills the space between you. His lips gleam red — not from the drink, but from you.

The court watches, oblivious, as his hand finds yours beneath the table, the secret seal of your alliance burning between your palms.

Sylus leans in, voice low and edged with promise.

“Let them think we hate each other.” he murmurs. “It’s safer that way… until the throne is ours.”