Rowan did not sleep.
Not truly.
Even when his body stilled and his eyes closed, his mind remained alert—trained, sharpened, unwilling to let its guard down. Especially here. Especially now.
The palace was no longer just a place of duty.
It was a battlefield.
And the enemy was already inside.
A traitor.
Rowan stood just outside the prince's chambers once more, the events of the previous night replaying in his mind with quiet precision. Every movement. Every word. Every flicker of intent.
The blade thrown.
The hesitation—no, not hesitation.
Calculation.
That hadn't been a failed assassination.
It had been a test.
And someone inside the palace had arranged it.
The doors behind him opened.
"You're thinking too loudly."
Rowan turned slightly.
Cassian stepped out, already dressed, his expression as composed as ever. But there was something beneath it now—something sharper, more aware.
"You should rest, Your Highness," Rowan said.
Cassian arched a brow. "Is that an order?"
"A suggestion."
"Mm."
The prince studied him for a moment. "You didn't sleep."
"Neither did you."
A faint pause.
Then—
A small, almost amused breath left Cassian. "I suppose we'll have to tolerate each other's bad habits."
Rowan didn't respond.
But something about the exchange felt… easier.
Less formal.
More dangerous.
---
The training grounds were already active.
Steel clashed against steel, the sharp rhythm of sparring echoing through the open air. Guards moved in coordinated patterns, their movements precise but lacking the deadly intent Rowan was used to.
Routine.
Predictable.
Safe.
Cassian stood at the edge of it all, watching.
Rowan remained just behind him.
Always there.
"Tell me," Cassian said quietly, "how long would it take you to kill every man here?"
Rowan didn't react outwardly.
But the question—
It wasn't normal.
"Do you want an honest answer?" Rowan asked.
"I don't ask for anything else."
Rowan's gaze swept the field once.
Calculating.
Measuring.
"Less than five minutes," he said.
A guard nearby faltered mid-swing.
Cassian's lips curved slightly.
"I thought so."
Rowan glanced at him. "You asked that too easily."
"I think about these things often."
"That's concerning."
Cassian turned his head, meeting Rowan's gaze. "You're concerned for me?"
"No," Rowan said calmly. "For everyone else."
A beat.
Then—
Cassian laughed.
Soft.
Real.
And for just a moment, the cold prince from the throne room felt… human.
---
"Your Highness."
The voice cut in smoothly.
Rowan's attention shifted instantly.
A man approached—well-dressed, composed, carrying himself with the effortless confidence of someone who belonged here.
Not a guard.
Not a servant.
A noble.
"You're avoiding the council again," the man said, stopping just short of Cassian. His tone was light, familiar. "People are starting to talk."
Cassian didn't look at him immediately. "They always talk."
"True," the man said with a faint smile. "But this time, it's… interesting."
His gaze shifted.
To Rowan.
Lingering.
Assessing.
"And you must be the replacement," he added.
Rowan didn't move.
Didn't bow.
Didn't speak.
Cassian noticed.
"Lord Adrian," the prince said calmly, finally turning. "If you have something to say, say it."
The noble—Adrian—smiled slightly. "Straight to the point. I missed that."
Missed.
So they were close.
Or had been.
Rowan felt it immediately—the shift in tone, the familiarity in Adrian's posture, the way he stood just a little too comfortably near the prince.
Too close.
"You've made quite the… unconventional choice," Adrian continued, his gaze flicking to Rowan again. "A personal bodyguard no one has heard of?"
"He's effective," Cassian replied.
"I'm sure he is."
Adrian stepped closer.
Closer than necessary.
Rowan's hand twitched slightly at his side.
Instinct.
"Still," Adrian said softly, his voice dropping just enough, "you should be careful who you trust."
Rowan's eyes narrowed slightly.
Cassian's expression didn't change.
"I don't trust anyone," the prince said.
Adrian's smile deepened. "Not even me?"
A pause.
Brief.
But heavy.
"Especially not you," Cassian replied.
Adrian laughed.
But it wasn't offended.
If anything—
It sounded pleased.
Rowan didn't like that.
Not at all.
---
"Walk with me."
Cassian's voice cut through the moment.
He turned without waiting.
Rowan followed instantly.
He didn't look back.
But he could feel Adrian's gaze on him.
Watching.
Weighing.
Measuring.
Just like the prince had.
Just like an enemy would.
---
"You don't like him."
The words came suddenly.
Rowan glanced at Cassian. "Is that relevant?"
"It is to me."
Rowan hesitated.
Then—
"No," he said.
Cassian's gaze remained forward. "Why?"
"He stands too close."
A pause.
Then—
Cassian stopped walking.
Rowan halted beside him.
Slowly, the prince turned.
There it was again.
That look.
Sharp.
Focused.
Dangerous.
"Is that concern?" Cassian asked quietly.
"It's observation."
"Mm."
Cassian stepped closer.
Not as close as before.
But close enough.
"And if I told you he's one of the few people who has stayed by my side for years?"
Rowan didn't look away.
"I'd say that makes him more dangerous," he replied.
A flicker.
Something passed through Cassian's eyes.
Interest.
Approval.
Something deeper.
"You're very… direct," Cassian murmured.
"You said you don't like safe answers."
"I don't."
A pause.
Then—
Cassian reached out again.
This time, not to his face.
But lower.
His hand brushed briefly against Rowan's wrist.
Light.
Quick.
But intentional.
Rowan stilled.
"If you're right," Cassian said softly, "then I'll need you even more than I thought."
The words settled between them.
Heavy.
Not just duty anymore.
Something else.
Something neither of them had named.
Rowan's voice lowered slightly. "Then don't send me away."
A mistake.
The moment the words left his mouth—
He felt it.
Too personal.
Too much.
Cassian noticed.
Of course he did.
A slow smile formed.
Dangerous.
Possessive.
"I wasn't planning to."
A pause.
Then—
"Unless," Cassian added softly, "you want to leave."
Rowan's answer came instantly.
"No."
Too fast.
Too certain.
Silence followed.
Thick.
Charged.
Cassian's smile didn't fade.
"Good," he said quietly.
---
That night—
Rowan stood closer than before.
Not just at the door.
Not just in the shadows.
Closer.
Within reach.
And Cassian didn't tell him to move.
Didn't create distance.
Didn't reestablish the line.
Because the truth was—
That line had already begun to blur.
And somewhere between duty, danger, and something far more forbidden—
Rowan Vale had stopped being just a bodyguard.
And Crown Prince Cassian had begun to want something he could never have.
---