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A heavy, suffocating silence fell between us, thicker than the sea fog rolling off the cliffs. A muscle feathered in his jaw, pulled tight as a drawn bow.

“If you knew what I really was,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a low, gravelly vibration that clawed straight down my spine, “you would never let me touch you again. And right now... you need every ounce of focus just to survive. Now is not the time.”

Before I could drag an answer past my tight throat, he leaned in, his thumb tracing a slow, deliberate pressure over the thin leather of my vest.

“The distance is zero,” he whispered, throwing the words right back to where we’d left off.

He stood a few paces away, his training blade held low, his expression sealing back into absolute, untouchable iron.

“Again,” he commanded, his voice devoid of mercy. “And try to move like someone who plans on seeing the second day of spring.”

I brought my blade up again, driving three rapid strikes at his chest. Left. Right. High. He parried each with infuriating ease, flicks of his wrist sending shocks straight to my shoulders. I changed levels, sliding toward his flank to sweep his legs, but he read it instantly.

He caught me by the shoulder, shifting his weight. In a swift, sweeping turn, my feet went out from under me, and my back hit the granite mat. Before I could catch my breath, Caspian dropped heavily over me, his thighs pinning my hips, his hands locking my wrists to the stone above my head.

The heat off him was overwhelming. His chest rose and fell against mine, the scent of pine and rain wrapping around my senses.

“You’re losing focus, Trouble,” Caspian murmured, his voice dropping low against my neck. “Tomorrow night is LunaStiya. All three moons will be full, the magic thick enough to choke this keep. The guards drop their posts, the lords pick their prey—and you’re standing right in the middle of it. Who are you giving your attention to tomorrow? Are you going to let that southern lieutenant keep following you?”

Heat flared in my chest, sharp and bitter. I wasn’t a piece of property for him to audit, and I wasn’t going to stand there and let him interrogate who I spent my time with.

Not if he wasn’t going to ask me...

I didn’t answer with words. I twisted my wrists against his grip, using the exact leverage Manem had drilled into me for escaping a heavy pin. I planted my boots into the grit, shifted my center of gravity, and drove my knee upward into his thigh, forcing him to adjust. As his balance flickered, I arched my back hard, throwing my weight left and rolling him over.

The movement was fast and clean.

Caspian grunted as his broad back hit the flagstones with a heavy thud. Before he could recover his guard, I scrambled up, pinning him down instead. I settled squarely over him, my knees locking his thighs to the stone, my copper-red waves coming loose from its knot to shadow his face.

The sudden reversal left us both breathless. His blue eyes widened slightly in surprise as he realized where I was sitting, his chest heaving under my palms.

“You talk too much for a High Captain, Heir to Ilasari,” I whispered, leaning down until my breath brushed his ear.

Before I could say anything else, a dry throat-clearing broke the quiet.

I scrambled off him instantly, my boots skidding on the cold granite as I threw myself back into the freezing air, straightening my vest to hide how fast my heart was beating.

Caspian stayed flat on his back for a moment, splayed out across the training mat. Then his chest expanded, and a low, genuine laugh rumbled in his throat—a rare, deep sound that felt entirely unexpected coming from the High Captain.

He rolled to his feet effortlessly, brushing the grit from his leathers.

Soren stood by the rail, arms folded, a quiet, amused look on his face. The dimple in his left cheek was fully visible.

“I hate to interrupt the tactical maneuver this is…” Soren said, his voice carrying a dry edge. “But the sun has fully risen. I’m here to escort the Princess to the lower vaults. Malakai is waiting, unfortunately.”

A cold knot replaced the heat in my stomach at the mention of the vaults.

“Go,” Caspian said softly, his blue eyes lingering on my mouth for a fraction of a second. “Don’t forget to keep your left shoulder up, Trouble.”

“I’ll manage, Ilasari,” I muttered, retrieving my blade.

I turned toward the archway, my mind still spinning. Soren fell into step behind me, his boots clicking against the slate. As we cleared the yard, my senses picked up the low murmur of Soren speaking to Caspian back near the weapon racks.

“It’s good to see you finally loosen up, Cas,” Soren murmured, his tone quiet and familiar. “And actually show real interest in someone for a change.”

I paused for a fraction of a second before forcing my feet to keep moving down the corridor.

For a change?