Unease stirred beneath the surface of his explanation. “That still doesn’t make sense,” I said slowly. “If the crown’s purpose was to test the heir, then why leave you awake at all? Why not let the kingdom sleep without you rather than leave you here to endure it alone, unless…” My breath caught slightly as the thought formed. “…unless it wasn’t only a punishment, but a chance to prove yourself worthy.”
For a moment, he said nothing, his brow furrowed faintly. “How am I supposed to do that, trapped here?”
I stepped closer, my voice gaining quiet conviction. “In the library I witnessed you searching for a way to undo the curse in an effort to save your people, your show of consideration to your slumbering subjects within the castle I have no doubt extended beyond the palace walls.” My gaze held his. “That isn’t the act of someone unworthy: that’s the act of a true crown prince.”
Longing flickered in his gaze, as if he yearned to believe me. I continued, praying my words would reach him and penetrate the doubt engulfing his heart.
“You’re so confident and composed, and who carries yourself like someone who was meant to lead.”
He let out a quiet, humorless snort, shaking his head. “Confidence,” he said, “is a carefully practiced illusion, a skill I honed as a royal like everything else.”
His gaze lowered. “Charm is easier to fake, a mask that keeps my subjects from looking too closely at what’s underneath the façade.”
“And what is underneath?” I asked gently.
His jaw tightened. “A man who was never certain he was enough,” he said. “Not for the crown or for the kingdom.”
The weight of his words settling heavily between us. Pain wrenched my heart—sharp and unfamiliar in its depth, for it was not my own that I felt, but his. I had always feared what it might mean to care for someone this deeply, what it might cost me to let those emotions take root. But now that the moment had come, there was no hesitation in me at all. I only wanted to take his pain away.
I searched his expression, my heart wrenching at the pain etched into his haggard features. “This isn’t the Evander I know,” I murmured.
He let out a hollow laugh, the sound brittle against the stillness of the fading world. “The Evander you’ve known…isn’t real, but merely an illusion, a pathetic man who has been pretending since the moment he met you.”
My chest tightened. “Pretending?” I echoed softly.
He let out a slow breath, as though bracing himself. “You appeared out of nowhere—beautiful, confident fearless, entirely certain of who you were. A thief who moved through the world with purpose, who took what she wanted without apology, who had earned every skill she possessed. And I…” A faint, humorless smile touched his lips. “I was none of those things.”
“You admired me?” I asked quietly.
“I envied you,” he corrected. “You were everything I wasn’t. You knew your place in the world and carved it out for yourself, whereas I had only ever been given mine, yet never felt worthy of it.” His gaze lifted again, meeting mine with quiet intensity. “And yet, I couldn’t look away. You stirred life in me where none had existed before.”
Something in my heart softened. A memory stirred from where it had been locked away to protect me from the pain of their loss—faint at first, then gradually growing clearer as the memory unfolded.
I balanced carefully on his window ledge, staring wide-eyed at the handsome prince who had unexpectedly retired early from his state dinner…only to catch me. He stood in the shadows, watching me—not with suspicion, but with a quiet, searching curiosity. Flickering torchlight brushed across his features, revealing not accusation or command, but unmistakable amusement at finding a thief infiltrating his royal chambers.
I fought to maintain my composure. “Are you going to call for the guards?” I asked.
A faint crease formed between his brows as he cast an apprehensive glance towards the door, where they stood justbeyond. When his gaze returned to mine, a charming grin had already taken hold.
“It would be a shame to lock away someone brave enough to steal from royalty.” There was no reprimand in his tone—only admiration, and perhaps the faintest hint of envy.
He strolled towards me with easy confidence, his attention drifting to the jeweled paperweight I’d procured from his desk before he caught me red-handed. I relinquished it without a fight—my power having already searched it and found nothing of interest.
One brow lifted in silent question. I shrugged. “There are far more interesting items to steal.”
He studied me for a long moment, as though uncertain what to make of me. Then slowly, a smirk tugged on his mouth. “That sounds like a challenge I’m willing to accept.”
What began as a game did not remain one for long.
Each time he caught me, I lingered a little longer…and he never seemed in a hurry to send me away. Somewhere between my attempts to evade him and his quiet determination to catch me, an unconventional friendship formed. And before I realized it, I had stopped coming to steal at all.
A faint smile touched my lips as the memory faded. “No matter how often you caught me, I kept returning…not for the prize, but for you. Just to steal another moment in your presence.”
The words settled between us, soft but undeniable. Emotion tightened in his expression. “You shouldn’t have,” he said.
I held his gaze, refusing to let him retreat into that distance again. “And you should have called for the guards the moment you first caught me.”
“I’ve told you already that you intrigued me.”
