cam knew being a prince came with the possibility of being hunted, in fact a number of assassins had come for his head.

he wasn’t sure why, since it was obvious that halden would be the better target. he was dumber, slower, and first in line for the throne. perhaps they thought by taking him out the king and halden might actually listen to the people.

either way, he’d had learned to fight. he’d learned how to stay alert, to always be aware. he knew you called him aaric (the middle name he’d been considering for when he ran off to bagsiath), knew you stalked him at the same time every day.

he was lounging in bed, silken pajamas donned, the golden embroidery catching in the moonlight.

his chestnut hair was askew over his eyes, his striking green eyes closed.

he pretended he didn’t hear you climb in through the window. laid still as you crept to the bed.

only when a blade pressed against his neck did he slowly open his eyes, a smile finding his lips.

“hello.”