The sky over the palace had gone violet by the time Princess Elara carried Alex across the mosaic courtyard and through a side door hidden behind flowering ivy. The heavy oak door shut behind them with a sigh, muffling the garden's birdsong. Inside, the air smelled of beeswax and old parchment — the quiet heart of the royal keep.
Elara glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one had followed. Her hair had come loose during the climb and framed her face in golden strands. She hugged Alex a little closer, the way a girl might hug a diary full of secrets. "Shhh," she whispered, as though the lamb might bleat and give them away. "If the chamberlain finds you, he'll send you to the stables. I promised you'd be safe."
The hallway curved upward in a gentle spiral. Tapestries of unicorn hunts lined the walls; their embroidered eyes glimmered faintly as if aware of the trespass. Alex felt the magic in them prickle across his fleece like static. Wards and watchers everywhere. His inner voice took note: Hallways patrolled by enchanted cloth; keep your head down.
Thistle hopped along at Elara's heels, his nose twitching. "You're going to regret this, Highness," he muttered in the animal tongue. "Sneaking strange creatures into your bedroom? Classic fairy-tale mistake."
"Be nice, Thistle," Elara scolded softly, not understanding the words but recognising the tone. She opened a small door set into the main stairwell and slipped inside.
The princess's chambers were warm and high-ceilinged, walls painted with swirling constellations and stories of old heroes. Crystals hung from the window lattice, catching the last light of day and scattering it across the floor like spilled gems. Shelves overflowed with books, maps, and half-finished sketches. A small hearth smouldered in the corner. Compared to the cold ruins where Alex had woken, it felt like stepping into a storybook.
Elara set him down on a rug as soft as moss. "There," she said, pushing hair from her face. "No one comes in here after dark except my tutor, and he's gone until morning. You're safe."
Alex shook himself, ears flicking. He'd been in cages, labs, and back alleys in his old life, but never a room like this. Part of him wanted to curl up and sleep. Another part, the bigger part, catalogued every exit, every hiding place, and the little silver bell charms dangling from the door — another ward.
A faint chime slid across his mind's eye:
Location Discovered: Princess's Quarters. Safe Zone (conditional). Perception +5 while inside.He smothered a snort. Even the system treated her bedroom like a level.
Thistle bounded onto a velvet pillow near the hearth and stretched out like a cat. "You realise she's adopted you, don't you?" he muttered. "Congratulations, you're officially a pet."
Alex gave him a look. Better a pet than prey.
Elara busied herself near the hearth, pouring milk into a small porcelain bowl and setting it before him. "Here you go," she said, as if he were a normal lamb. "I'll have Cook bring something proper tomorrow. Tonight you'll just have to make do."
He lowered his head and pretended to lap, but his ears tracked the hallway beyond. He could hear faint footsteps — servants, maybe guards, moving like clockwork. Bells chimed in some distant tower. From the window drifted the muted roar of the city below. The palace was alive even at night.
Elara knelt beside him, her eyes shining. "I've always wanted a pet of my own," she whispered. "The court says I should have a falcon or a unicorn foal, but they're all so proud. You're different. You look like you understand me."
Alex risked a glance up at her. She did not look like a spoiled princess. Ink stains dotted her fingers. Her circlet lay forgotten on the desk, replaced by an open book of maps. The margins were full of her sketches — ruins, towers, and creatures he didn't recognise. She was a girl trying to piece together a bigger story.
"You're full of secrets," Thistle said from his pillow. "So is she. You two might get along."
Alex flicked an ear but didn't reply. Not yet.
Elara reached out, hesitated, then stroked his head. Her fingers were warm. "You'll stay hidden here. Tomorrow, when the court's busy with the council meeting, I'll sneak you into the garden. No one will know."
He managed a soft, convincing bleat. Inside, though, his mind raced. First rule: establish a base. Second: gather intel. Third: find leverage. He was inside the palace now. The system had given him a Safe Zone. He could start to play the long game.
He curled up on the rug, letting his eyes droop. But through half-lidded eyes he mapped the chamber by starlight: the window lattice that opened onto a ledge, the second door hidden behind a tapestry, the three little crystal birds perched above the hearth — scrying devices, probably. Every detail might matter.
Elara hummed to herself as she tidied her maps. "Tomorrow's lessons are in statecraft," she said absently, not to him but to the room. "I wish I could go back to the ruins instead. There are secrets there no one will tell me."
At that, Alex's ears pricked. She's already looking for secrets. Interesting.
The last of the daylight bled from the crystals. Elara doused the hearth to embers, changed into a simple nightgown, and climbed into her canopy bed. "Good night, little lamb," she murmured. "Sleep well."
Alex closed his eyes but did not sleep. Outside the window, a lone horn blew from the hills — a low, mournful note almost lost under the city's noise. He filed it away. The elves were still moving.
Inside the princess's room, the only sound was Thistle's slow breathing and the faint ticking of enchanted clocks. Alex lay still, a dark shape on the rug, and began to plan.