Elowen's POV:
We waited.
Every girl pretended not to.
Every glance toward the door betrayed them anyway.
The chair at the head of the table remained empty.
Steam curled from untouched tea placed beside his setting. A servant quietly removed it after the second course. No explanation was offered.
Lady Mariette's confidence began to fracture first.
"He is testing us," she declared, too loudly. "Obviously."
Isolde Thorne lifted a brow. "Or he has better uses for his morning."
A few girls laughed, though the sound felt strained.
Selene's fingers brushed mine beneath the table. Disappointment flickered across her face — quickly hidden, but not from me.
They dressed for an audience," I murmured softly. "He refused to give them one."
Hailey Morvain gave a small huff beside me. "That is either brilliant… or cruel."
"Likely both," I replied.
By the time the final tray of fruit was cleared, conversation had grown brittle. Ambition thrives on attention. Denied it, it turns restless.
I rose before the others.
"Already?" Selene whispered.
"Yes."
"You're not waiting?"
"For what?"
She hesitated. Then shook her head slightly. "Fine. Walk. Observe. Just… don't disappear."
I offered the faintest smile. "I never disappear. I simply step aside."
The palace gardens were quieter than the breakfast hall, though no less deliberate.
Gravel paths curved through manicured hedges trimmed into geometric precision. Marble statues stood between fountains, depicting past kings and queens of Valtheris — immortalized in stone, gazes fixed forward as if still judging the living.
The morning air was cool, scented with roses and damp earth.
I walked without hurry.
Freedom, however temporary, felt like air after confinement.
From the gardens, the training grounds were visible beyond a low terrace wall. Steel rang against steel in steady rhythm. Soldiers drilled under command.
He would not waste his morning on spectacle.
"You chose the quiet over competition."
The voice came from behind me.
Calm. Measured.
I did not startle.
I turned slowly.
Crown Prince Kael Viremont stood beneath the shadow of an archway where ivy crept along stone. He was dressed differently than the night before.
No court coat.
No formal black.
Instead, a fitted dark tunic, sleeves rolled slightly at the forearm. Training leathers at his wrists. The sword remained — always the sword.
Less prince.
More commander.
I curtsied. "Your Highness."
"You did not attend breakfast," I said evenly.
He stepped forward, boots quiet on gravel. "I was not aware attendance was mandatory."
"It was expected."
A pause.
His eyes held mine — that same iron-gray intensity. Not warm. Not hostile. Simply observant.
"And you are disappointed?"
"No."
One brow lifted slightly.
"No?" he repeated.
"The others were," I said. "I imagine that was your intention."
Silence lingered.
Then — the faintest shift in his expression.
"You assume much."
"I observe."
He circled slightly, not predatory — assessing.
"The breakfast hall," he said, "was loud."
"It usually is when ambition gathers."
"And you left it."
"Yes."
"Why?"
I considered the truth.
"Because competition performed openly reveals nothing. People show you only what they wish to sell."
"And here?" he asked quietly.
"Here," I replied, glancing toward the training grounds, "is where people forget they are being watched."
That did it.
"You do not seem eager to be chosen," he said.
"I am here because my father answered a decree," I replied. "Not because I sought a crown."
Something unreadable crossed his expression.
"Interesting," he murmured.
Footsteps sounded faintly in the distance — guards or servants making their rounds.
"You should return," he said. "Your absence will be noticed."
"And yours?" I asked before I could stop myself.
A flicker of something — almost amusement — touched his eyes.
"I am exactly where I intended to be."
The meaning of that settled slowly in my chest.
He stepped aside, giving me the path.
As I passed, I felt it again — that careful attention. Not admiration. Not dismissal.
Consideration.
When I dared glance back, he remained beneath the roses, watching the path I had taken.
And for the first time since arriving at the palace, I felt something unfamiliar stir beneath my calm.
Not fear.
Not hope.
But the unsettling awareness that I had been seen.