Prince Elias led me down one of the quieter garden paths, our steps soft against the grass. Roses arched overhead in shades of blush and crimson, their petals catching the light like glass. For a moment, it was easy to forget the court's chaos.
[Chaos You started.]
Shut up Nero.
He walked beside me in silence—tall, steady, and composed. His dark hair shifted with the breeze, and his royal attire, simple yet refined, suited him effortlessly. He was taller than I'd thought—by at least a head—and somehow that made me feel both small and strangely at ease.
[He's absurdly tall, that's what he is,] Nero murmured. [Like, 'could reach the top shelf without trying' tall.]
"Quiet," I hissed softly, but my lips twitched.
Elias glanced down at me. "Did you say something?"
"Ah—no, Your Highness," I said quickly, composing myself. "Just admiring the roses."
He gave a slight smile, the kind that didn't reach his eyes but made my heart do something traitorous anyway. "They're beautiful, yes. But I think they're being outshone right now."
My face went hot. "You're very forward for someone who just called me 'Lady Seraphina' five minutes ago."
"I've been told I can be direct," he said simply, eyes still fixed ahead. "It saves time."
He looked like someone carved for the role he held — controlled, regal, and slightly distant.
We walked a few steps more before he finally spoke. "I hope my brother didn't upset you."
I glanced at him briefly. "He did, but not in any way that matters."
Elias nodded once, as if that answer was enough. "He's not used to losing. Least of all to his own temper."
"That much is clear," I said dryly.
For a second, I thought I saw the corner of his mouth twitch — not quite a smile, but close.
The gravel crunched softly under our feet as we passed beneath an archway heavy with vines. "You handled him well," Elias said after a pause. "Calm under pressure. Most would have tried to shout over him."
"I've learned that silence often speaks louder," I replied. "And that people like him can't stand not getting a reaction."
He hummed thoughtfully. "A useful skill. Especially here."
The quiet stretched again, comfortable but heavy with unspoken questions. Finally, I asked, "Your Highness, why did you agree to the engagement?"
He turned his head slightly toward me, his expression unreadable. "You were the one who asked for it."
I looked away. "I didn't think you'd actually accept."
"Why ask, then?" His tone wasn't sharp — just genuinely curious.
Because it's my quest, I wanted to say. Because Nero told me to. Because none of this was supposed to spiral like this.
[You wished for it not me host]
But all I said was, "Because I wanted to serve the crown. And I thought this might be the best way to do that."
Elias was quiet for a moment. "That's a very diplomatic answer."
"It's also true."
He studied me for a while. "You're careful with your words."
"I've had to be," I said, meeting his gaze.
Something in his expression softened then — not pity, but understanding. "Court life teaches that quickly."
"I suppose we both learned it the hard way," I said.
A faint smile touched his lips, almost rueful. "Perhaps."
We reached the center of the garden, where a marble fountain shimmered under the afternoon sun. The sound of water filled the pause between us. Elias leaned against the edge of the stone railing, arms folded loosely.
"When I agreed yesterday," he said, "it wasn't out of impulse."
I looked at him, surprised. "It seemed like it."
"I can understand why," he said, his tone calm, matter-of-fact. "But I've been observing the court for a long time. Most of them talk more than they act. You act."
I blinked, unsure how to respond to that.
He went on, eyes fixed on the fountain. "You confronted my brother in front of everyone without flinching. Most people would have begged to avoid scandal. You demanded resolution. You're decisive — that's rare here."
I frowned slightly. "That doesn't mean I'm fit to be Crown Princess."
"No," he agreed easily. "But it means you can stand beside a crown and not tremble under its weight."
I didn't realize I'd been holding my breath until he turned to look at me again. His gaze wasn't romantic or soft — just steady, assessing. It made me feel seen in a way that was both uncomfortable and oddly reassuring.
[He's got that quiet leader thing going on,] Nero murmured. [Like he's auditioning for a hero role but forgot to smile.]
I ignored him, focusing on the ripples of the fountain. "You talk as if you already trust me," I said finally.
"I don't," Elias replied without hesitation. "Not yet. But I respect what I've seen."
That honesty caught me off guard. "Most people would've lied."
"I'm not most people," he said simply.
No arrogance, no smugness — just truth. And somehow, that made it harder to look away.
He straightened then, brushing an invisible crease from his sleeve. "This arrangement will draw attention, and not all of it good. You'll need to be prepared for that."
"I am," I said, maybe too quickly.
He glanced at me, the faintest shadow of amusement in his eyes. "Somehow, I believe you."
We stood there for a few seconds more, the sound of the fountain filling the silence. Then he inclined his head slightly. "I'll have the council informed of our engagement tomorrow. In the meantime, stay close to your family."
I nodded. "Of course, Your Highness."
He began to turn, then paused. "You handled yourself well today. Don't let him — or anyone — make you doubt that."
Before I could respond, he walked away, leaving only the scent of cedar and the soft sound of his boots against the stone path.
[Okay, that was… something,] Nero said quietly. [Not romantic, but definitely something.]
I exhaled, feeling the weight of the conversation settle in my chest. "Yeah," I murmured. "Something."
[If this was a novel he'd be the male lead, he's got that air around him.]
I couldn't agree more.