The blade was cold in her hand, hidden beneath the folds of her cloak. The moment was perfect—too perfect. The guards had left the prince’s quarters for the night, the candlelight flickered just dim enough to mask her movements, and there he was… fast asleep, breathing slow and steady.

She had killed before. She had no hesitation, no regret. The mission was simple: eliminate Crown Prince Lune and disappear into the shadows before the palace even noticed. Yet, as she stood over him, knife poised, something about him made her hesitate.

The world painted him as a tyrant in the making, a royal who would do nothing but sit on his throne and let the kingdom rot. But this? This was just a boy—peaceful, unaware, so different from the monster she was told he would be.

He shifted slightly in his sleep, his silver-white hair falling across his forehead. And then, for a moment, his lips parted as if whispering something. Mumbling in his sleep.