The room was modest but clean. Sunlight streamed in through a small arched window, casting golden patterns across the wooden floorboards. Two narrow beds lined each side of the room, with soft wool blankets neatly folded atop them.
Caelia stepped in, taking a breath. It smelled like fresh linen and lavender soap.
"We're sharing!" Mira beamed, dropping her bag on the nearest bed. "That's lucky, right?"
Two girls were already in the room. One sat cross-legged on her bed, reading a worn leather-bound book. She had long auburn hair tied into a neat braid and a cautious, clever look in her eyes. The other girl was fluffing a pillow, her blonde curls bouncing as she turned, bright blue eyes sparkling with friendliness.
"You must be the new ones," the blonde said, stepping forward with a warm smile. "I'm Isobel. That's Eliza."
"I'm Mira," Mira chirped. "And this is Caelia."
Eliza gave a polite nod. "Nice to meet you."
Isobel grinned. "I'm from a town called Windmere. It's in Brimshore—right along the Silverport. My father runs a spice shop."
Brimshore. The trade center of the kingdom. Caelia had read about it but never traveled there.
"Why'd you come here?" Mira asked, sitting beside her.
"Honestly? I wanted to see what life in the palace is like," Isobel said, glancing around as if she still couldn't believe she was there. "And I hear royal servants eat better than some nobles."
Eliza smirked. "I came for the pay. My family needs it."
Caelia hesitated. "I needed a change. A new start."
They all nodded as if understanding, even if they didn't ask for more.
"Have you heard about the Crown Prince?" Isobel whispered, lowering her voice like they were about to speak of a ghost.
Eliza glanced at the door. "You mean the midnight heir?"
Mira blinked. "Why's he called that?"
"They say he was born under a moonless night," Isobel said, eyes wide. "And that he carries the cold of it in his veins. No warmth, no kindness. Just icy silence and dark eyes."
"I heard he's already stronger than most generals," Eliza added. "Some say he's even more ruthless than the King."
Mira snorted. "Sounds like a story to scare children."
Caelia listened quietly, unsure how to feel. Caelum. The name had power behind it.
Before anyone could say more, there was a sharp knock on the door.
Mistress Ilena stood in the doorway, posture straight as ever.
"Caelia Rynn. You're assigned to the royal residential quarters. Follow me. You need to know your way around."
Caelia rose quickly and followed.
The royal residential quarters were a world of elegance. Marble floors polished to a mirror sheen, walls adorned with rich tapestries, and chandeliers that sparkled with hundreds of crystals. Servants moved like shadows, silent and swift. Guards stood like statues at every turn.
Mistress Ilena walked swiftly, pointing out various doors. "That's the Crown Prince's private study. Do not enter without permission. That leads to his receiving hall. Beyond this corridor is the East Wing—it houses his military visitors."
They turned a corner—and stopped.
Caelia felt her breath catch.
There he was.
Prince Caelum.
He stood by a tall window, sunlight pouring in behind him, casting shadows across his sharp features. His dark hair was brushed back, not a strand out of place. His posture was rigid, hands clasped behind him. The long black coat he wore matched the depth of his gaze—cold, unreadable. He didn't look at her or anyone. He didn't need to.
There was something… heavy about his presence, like the air itself bent to his will.
"That is His Highness," Mistress Ilena whispered. "Remember your place."
Caelia couldn't look away.
She had never seen him in her past life. And yet, somehow, something inside her stirred. Not recognition. Not fear. But something deeper. A shift.
He turned slightly, eyes brushing past them.
Brief.
Dismissive.
Then gone.
Caelia's heart thudded quietly as they walked on.
The midnight heir wasn't a myth.
He was very real.
And now, she served in his shadow.