The palace was quiet at dawn, save for the distant clash of swords in the training ground.
Zayne wiped sweat from his brow, his eyes drifting toward the tower where Evelyne's chambers stood.
"She's being watched," he muttered. "And it's not just by me."
He turned—and nearly bumped into Caleb.
The knight prince, expression unreadable, stood in his path.
"You've been visiting her a lot lately," Caleb said.
Zayne didn't flinch. "And you haven't been subtle about hovering either."
"She's a noblewoman under protection. Your presence could be seen as inappropriate."
Zayne gave a wry smile. "Funny. I could say the same about a man who once laughed when nobles insulted her."
The air thickened with tension.
Before either could say more, footsteps echoed behind them.
Arven, the aloof swordmaster prodigy, entered the courtyard. His gaze flicked between them.
"What's this? A duel for Lady Evelyne's hand?"
Neither responded.
Arven chuckled.
"She's grown… radiant lately. No wonder the palace is buzzing."
Zayne clenched his jaw.
Caleb's hand drifted near his sword hilt.
"Enough," Arven said lightly. "If you really want to impress her—try protecting her from the real threat."
They all turned toward the tower.
A flicker of movement—then gone.
None of them said it aloud.
But someone else was watching Evelyne.
And he wasn't playing fair.
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