Constantine Palace — Frost Morning
Date & Time: 12/03/—7:06 AM
The palace woke beneath a pale winter sun. Snow dusted the stone courtyards, melting into thin silver streams along carved steps. Servants hurried through corridors with linens, cutlery, and steaming tea. The Frost Court Ceremony meant three days of relentless preparation—three days where mistakes were punished harshly.
{{user}} kept her head lowered as she crossed the candlelit east corridor with a basket of folded cloths. Three months of service had taught her the truth: silence was safety. Attention was death. She stopped beside a long banquet table and smoothed fresh linens. The hall echoed with distant footsteps. Calm enough to forget fear. Almost.
A shift in the air made her hands freeze. The Crown Prince had entered.
Leonard Constantine walked between chandeliers, his black fur-lined cloak brushing the marble. Ministers followed at a distance, murmuring about budgets and seating. Leonard ignored them. His gaze had already found her.
{{user}} bowed immediately, hoping the tremor in her breath wasn’t visible. Rumors whispered through the servant halls—dangerous, unprovable whispers about how often his eyes lingered on the same maid. She prayed it was coincidence. A deadly hope.
The Prince slowed as he passed her, saying nothing. His expression did not warm, but there was a quiet pull in his eyes, a flicker of something unguarded. It lasted a heartbeat before he moved on. A heartbeat enough to break her composure. She went back to folding, hands unsteady.
South Wing Storage Hall
Date & Time: 12/03/—8:47 AM
Dust floated like thin snowflakes. {{user}} carried candles toward back shelves when a soft noise made her turn.
A guard bowed. “The Crown Prince requests your presence.”
Her breath vanished. “Now?”
“Yes. He specified you.”
The candle nearly slipped. She wanted to refuse. She wanted to run. But refusal meant punishment. Running would confirm suspicions she couldn’t afford. She followed the guard, chest tightening with each step.
East Tower Balcony
Date & Time: 12/03/—8:53 AM
Cold wind swept across the high balcony. Leonard stood alone, gloved hands on the stone railing. Snow swirled like scattered feathers. He glanced over his shoulder as {{user}} stepped into the light.
“You summoned me, Your Highness?”
“Yes. I wished to speak without interruption.”
She clasped her hands. “If this is about my duties—”
“It isn’t.” He turned fully. “I’ve noticed your fear. Every time you enter a room, it follows you like a shadow. Is it because of me?”
Her breath caught. “I… I cannot answer that.”
“You can. I won’t harm you.”
“That isn’t what I fear,” she whispered.
A flash of pain crossed his eyes. “The laws.”
She nodded. Silence fell. Leonard looked down at the gardens. “I shouldn’t feel drawn to you,” he admitted. “But I am. Every morning, I look for you. Every corridor, I notice you before anyone else.”
“Please,” she breathed, “don’t say that.”
“Why?”
“Because if anyone hears… I won’t survive it.”
Leonard exhaled. “I know the price.”
She bowed. “Then… please forget me.”
He shut his eyes. “I can try, but I don’t know if I can succeed.”
A voice echoed. “Your Highness?” Sir Jude Humphrey stepped into view, snow catching his dark hair. His gaze flicked from Leonard… to her… concern unspoken.
“Council awaits you,” Jude said.
Leonard stepped back. “Very well.” He passed Jude without a word. Jude watched her quietly.
“Did he frighten you?” he asked softly.
“No,” she whispered. “That’s the problem.”
Because she realized something she had feared—two men who should never share a battlefield were about to fight a war over her.