The court gardens had always bloomed with flattery when a royal returned.
This day was no different.
Silk gowns rustled like gossip. Jewelry caught the sunlight like sharpened lies. Every noble who mattered had gathered on the imperial lawn to greet him.
Crown Prince Auren Thalor.
My murderer.
My husband.
My shadow.
"Smile," I told myself, smoothing the edge of my fan. "Not too much. Just enough for him to wonder what you know."
---
The crowd shifted. Laughter rose like perfume in spring.
And then—he entered.
Tall, golden, robed in white and crimson. The light caught his hair like the blade that ended my life.
He moved like he owned the world.
Because he did.
And I had once loved him for it.
"Prince Auren," someone murmured.
"He's even more beautiful than last season—"
"They say the duke's younger daughter has returned to court. She'll be the match."
No, I thought, lips curving faintly.
I will.
But not the way you think.
---
Auren greeted nobles like a prince taught to perform affection. A brush of fingers. A word of flattery. Every smile was an invitation. Every look—a game.
He hadn't changed.
He hadn't aged a day since the morning he ordered my death.
He looked the same when he finally reached me.
"Lady Elara," he said, voice like honey dripped over steel. "It's been a long time."
My heart beat once.
Louder than I wanted it to.
But I smiled. Tilted my head.
"Has it?" I replied sweetly. "Forgive me. I hardly noticed."
His eyes narrowed—subtly. Just a flicker of calculation.
He remembered the girl who used to blush when he looked at her.
He didn't recognize the woman who no longer bent her neck.
"You've grown," he said.
"Time has that effect," I said. "If one survives it."
Something flickered in his expression.
Confusion? Amusement?
He recovered quickly.
"You look well."
"So do you," I said, letting my fan drop a little. "Murder becomes you."
He blinked.
Just for a second.
Then he laughed.
And gods—it was the same laugh. That warm, rich sound that once made my knees weak.
"You always did have a sharp tongue," he said. "No wonder I liked you."
You killed me.
You told them to take my title. My land. My name. My life.
But sure.
Let's flirt.
"You still do?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Maybe." His eyes lingered on me. "You'll have to give me a reason."
---
Later, as I walked away—victorious in silence—I felt Cladus at my side.
"He doesn't know," he said. Not a question. A truth.
"No," I replied. "But he will."
"You let him think you're still chasing him."
I smiled, bitter and bright.
"Let him chase me for once."