The palace air was nothing like the city's. Here, the scent of roses mingled with marble dust, thick with history and control. Every corridor gleamed under chandeliers, every step Lin Wei took echoed as if reminding her she did not belong.
A maid in uniform, standing inside the palace itself. The absurdity of it pressed on her chest like a weight.
"Keep your head down," one of the escorts whispered in Arabic. "Don't speak unless spoken to."
But Hamdan, walking ahead in careless arrogance, glanced back over his shoulder with a grin. "Ignore them, Cinderella. You'll find that silence makes you invisible. And I don't intend to let you disappear."
Lin Wei bit her tongue. He spoke as if she were his possession. Her pulse raced with anger, but she forced her face to stay neutral. These halls had eyes everywhere.
They entered a grand chamber lined with tapestries depicting wars and coronations. Waiting inside were several advisors, their gazes sharp as daggers. And there, standing at the far end, was Omar.
Unlike Hamdan's storm-like presence, Omar radiated calm authority. His dark suit was perfectly tailored, his hands clasped behind his back. When his eyes met Lin Wei's, they softened just slightly, a flicker of warmth no one else seemed to notice.
"So this is the girl?" one advisor muttered in disdain. "A maid, dragged into palace matters by a prince's whims?"
Hamdan smirked. "She's more useful than half of you old men. At least she's honest."
The advisor's face flushed, but Omar lifted a hand. "Enough." His voice was quiet, but it carried. He stepped toward Lin Wei. "Miss Lin, I apologize. You should not have been summoned this way."
"Summoned?" Lin Wei echoed, unable to stop the bitterness in her voice. "That's a kind word for being dragged into something I don't understand."
The room went still. No one spoke to royalty like that. The advisors shifted uneasily, waiting for Hamdan's fury.
Instead, Hamdan laughed. "See? This is why she stays. She dares."
One of the older men leaned close to another, whispering, "She'll be dead within the week if she keeps that tongue."
Lin Wei's fists clenched at her sides, but Omar's gaze caught hers again. There was something in his eyes—warning, or maybe admiration. She couldn't tell.
Later, after the council session dissolved into mutters, Hamdan ordered her quarters to be prepared inside the palace.
"It's safer here," he said simply, ignoring her protests. "And besides, you're already a scandal. Might as well play the role properly."
"What role?" Lin Wei demanded.
"My Cinderella," he replied with infuriating ease.
She wanted to scream. But the words caught in her throat when they passed through a garden courtyard on their way to her new chambers. It was the same courtyard she had seen in Omar's sketchbook. The one marked with strange symbols.
She slowed, staring at the stone patterns half-hidden beneath ivy. They weren't just decoration. They looked like… a code.
"What are you staring at?" Hamdan asked.
"Nothing," she said quickly. Too quickly.
His eyes narrowed, but before he could press her, Omar appeared at the far archway. "Hamdan. A word."
The tension snapped taut instantly.
Hamdan stepped closer to Lin Wei, his hand brushing dangerously close to her arm. "Stay in your room tonight. Don't open the door for anyone. Not even him."
Then he stalked toward Omar, the two princes meeting in the shadow of the arch like predators circling. Their voices were low, harsh, but Lin Wei caught fragments.
"…exposing her…"
"…you don't own her…"
"…keep her alive, or you'll regret it…"
Her heart pounded. They were fighting over her. Not as a person, but as a pawn in a game she didn't understand.
That evening, her new quarters gleamed with silk sheets and carved furniture. A gilded cage, every bit as suffocating as she had feared. She paced, the walls closing in.
On the desk lay the sketchbook Omar had given her. Hamdan hadn't destroyed it after all—he'd tossed it onto her bed in a fit of mockery. Now she opened it again, flipping to the page with the garden courtyard.
The symbols etched in the stone weren't random. She was sure of it. They looked almost like directions. A map hidden beneath vines and stone.
A knock jolted her from her thoughts.
"Who is it?" she asked.
Silence.
She moved closer, pulse quickening. "Hello?"
Then, a voice—low, urgent, muffled through the door. Omar.
"Lin Wei. Don't trust him. Not tonight. Meet me by the courtyard at midnight."
Her breath caught.
But before she could answer, heavy footsteps echoed down the hall. Another knock, louder this time, shook the door.
"Cinderella," Hamdan's voice drawled, dark and dangerous. "Open up. We need to talk."
Her heart thundered. Two princes. Two warnings. One telling her to escape, the other demanding entry.
Which one was the real danger?
Lin Wei stood at the door, her hand hovering over the handle, heart racing. Outside, one offered gentle salvation; the other, dangerous dominion.
Who, in the midnight court, was setting the trap?