(Third POV)
Morning came dressed in sunlight and mischief.
The entire estate buzzed with the aftermath of the royal luncheon — servants whispering about how gracefully Lady Evandelle held her own against the crown prince's charm, and how Lord Kael's stare could have frozen wine mid-pour.
Zelene, of course, basked in it.
"Good morning, my beloved," she drawled as Kael entered the breakfast hall, her tone dripping with mock affection. She was lounging on the chaise, legs crossed, a teacup poised elegantly in her hand.
Kael stopped dead in his tracks, looking entirely unimpressed. "You've been unbearable since dawn."
"Correction," she said with a smirk. "I've been convincing since dawn. We wouldn't want to fail our audience, would we?"
He raised an eyebrow. "The maids don't count as an audience."
"Oh, but the maids talk," Zelene purred, standing and gliding toward him with slow, exaggerated grace. "And rumors are the court's favorite currency."
She stopped just short of him — close enough for her perfume, something soft and dangerous, to cling between them. "First step to making them believe we're deeply in love, remember?" she teased, eyes gleaming. "No titles."
Kael exhaled through his nose, somewhere between irritation and reluctant amusement. "You're going to be the death of me, Zelene."
"Let's hope not too soon, Kael."
She brushed past him, deliberately close enough for her shoulder to graze his arm, and left him standing there, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like a curse.
By late afternoon, Zelene decided to take a solitary walk through the Dravenhart gardens — a moment to clear her head before the inevitable chaos of the next event. The air was crisp, the sky painted with the soft blush of a nearing dusk.
Her gown whispered against the gravel path, and for once, she allowed herself to enjoy the quiet.
Maybe I should ease up on him, she thought idly. He looked like he was ready to strangle me by the third "my love."
A faint chuckle escaped her lips. But then — something shifted.
A whisper of metal.
Her body stilled. Her senses — her Aether — flared instinctively. A flash of intent, sharp and cold as winter air, prickled at the edge of her awareness.
Before she could turn—
Shhhhkk!
A blade sliced through the space beside her cheek, embedding itself in the bark of a nearby tree. The sound was too close — too real. Her heart lurched into her throat.
She stumbled back, skirts twisting, eyes darting through the manicured hedges. Shadows danced between the rosebushes.
"Who's there?" she demanded, voice sharper than she felt. "Show yourself!"
No answer. Just the slow, steady rustle of leaves.
Her hand twitched toward the small dagger strapped beneath her gown — a habit she'd developed since aligning with Kael — when a second figure lunged from the foliage.
The glint of steel came straight for her heart.
But before the blade could meet flesh —
CLANG!
The sound was deafening. A flash of silver and motion intercepted the strike.
Zelene barely had time to register it before the assailant's weapon was knocked from his hand, scattering across the cobblestone. A figure in black moved like a ghost — no, like a storm — precise and brutal. Within seconds, the attacker was disarmed, groaning on the ground with a blade pressed to his throat.
Zelene blinked, breath coming fast. "Ray?"
He said nothing. His expression unreadable, eyes cold as winter steel.
For a heartbeat, she thought it was over — but the assassin's eyes flared with desperation. With a sudden, desperate twist, he slipped free from Ray's grasp, darting toward the maze of hedges surrounding the garden. Ray's hand shot out instinctively, blade slicing through the air, but the man vanished into shadow before he could intercept.
Zelene's heart skipped. "He—he got away?"
Ray's gaze hardened, muscles coiling like a spring. He didn't answer, only scanned the darkness, every line in his body taut and ready. The predator had let the prey slip once — not twice.
It was over before Zelene could even process what happened. She stared, breathless, watching the last tremors of the fight fade into silence.
"You— you came out of nowhere," she managed to say.
Ray didn't answer. He looked at her briefly — just long enough to make sure she wasn't hurt — before his gaze shifted coldly to the fallen man.
Zelene swallowed, glancing at the assassin's dark garb and the faint trace of poison along his blade. "He was going for the kill..."
Ray gave a curt nod. "Yes." His voice was low, rough from disuse — a sound that always startled her because it was so rare.
She exhaled shakily. "I felt it. His intent."
Ray's eyes flickered to hers, unreadable.
"Still," she whispered, brushing her trembling hands together, "that was too close."
He sheathed his blade silently, his movements calm despite the tension in the air.
Zelene took a hesitant step toward him. "How did you even know I was going to be attacked? I was alone. I made sure of it."
Ray finally looked at her — really looked. "You weren't," he said quietly. "I've been sensing someone tailing you for days. I tried to maintain distance, to draw him out. He took the bait faster than I thought."
She blinked, her brows furrowing. There was something in his tone — something detached, disciplined... yet not entirely cold.
"Is that your way of saying you were following me?" she asked, attempting to sound teasing but hearing the slight waver in her own voice.
He didn't rise to the bait. His face stayed calm, the faintest muscle ticking near his jaw. "It's my duty," he replied simply.
Zelene studied him. The quiet man who had always lingered at the edges — distant, indifferent, unreadable.
But now... something flickered there. Not hatred. Not exactly. Something sharper, protective, restrained by discipline.
"I see," she murmured. "Then... thank you, Ray."
Her tone softened despite herself. "Even if I wasn't going to die that easily."
His gaze shifted toward the path ahead. "You still could have."
She smiled faintly, brushing off the chill that crept up her spine. "Then it's good you were there to ruin my perfect last words."
Ray didn't answer — but as they walked side by side toward the manor, Zelene caught the smallest flicker of motion at the corner of his lips. Not quite a smile, but something close.
As they passed the roses, she cast one last glance over her shoulder at the unconscious assassin. Her Aether still hummed faintly under her skin — warning her, or maybe daring her.
For all her bravado, one truth lingered:
This game they were playing wasn't safe anymore.
And love — even a false one — made the perfect target.
---
(Zelene's POV)
I didn't see Kael arrive. One moment I was walking toward the manor with Ray, the faint smell of iron still in the air, the next, a shadow detached itself from the doorway.
His presence was... different. Not just the usual calm, piercing gaze — this was quiet fury, like a storm simmering beneath ice.
"Someone tried to kill you," he said, voice low, measured. Not shouting. Not panicked. Just... coldly certain, like the words themselves carried the weight of consequence.
I froze, glancing at him. "I— Ray handled it."
Kael's eyes flicked briefly to Ray, then back to me. "Handled it." The single word was both acknowledgment and warning. His jaw tightened. "And yet the man still walks."
My stomach dropped. "He— he escaped. We couldn't—"
"You couldn't prevent him from disappearing into the shadows," Kael finished for me. "Interesting." His hand rested lightly on the edge of the doorway, but the tension in his frame said otherwise. I'd seen many expressions of anger, but this... this was controlled, lethal. Quiet enough that only someone who knew him would notice, deadly enough that anyone who challenged him would regret it.
I shivered. Not from fear — from awe.
"He won't get another chance," Kael continued, his voice even but heavy. "I'll find him."
Ray said nothing. He never said much. But I could feel the shift in the air — his stance tightened, muscles ready, his hand brushing the hilt of his blade.
Hours later, news reached us. Kael's voice, this time over the secure line, was clipped. Controlled, but carrying that same chill.
"The assassin has been found. Dead. Suicide."
I swallowed, unease twisting inside me. "A suicide?" I asked softly. "How—"
Kael's pause said more than words could. "He was found with the letter of orders. Every trace of his employer removed. Someone wanted this tied up quietly. Someone clever."
Ray shifted slightly beside me, the faintest click of his boots against the stone. His eyes met mine briefly, unreadable. I realized then: the game had already begun. And we were all pieces on the board.
Kael's gaze lingered on me for a moment, not soft, not protective. Calculating. "You're safe. For now."
I nodded, but my heart was still racing. Safe. For now.
Even as I told myself that, a sliver of fear crawled up my spine. Whoever wanted me dead — whoever had orchestrated this — had power. And now, it was personal.
Kael turned, moving down the corridor with that quiet, predatory grace. "Stay close," he muttered. "And keep your eyes open."
I followed, Ray at my side, the weight of what had just happened settling over us like a winter dusk.
I knew one thing for certain: the social games, the political maneuvering — it had just become lethal.