CHAPTER NINETEEN — Watching Eyes
The palace settled into an uneasy calm after the family dinner, but sleep did not come easily to those within its walls.
Helena returned to the service quarters long after the kitchens had gone quiet. She moved slowly, carefully, as though any sudden motion might stir the thoughts she was desperately trying to silence. Kira's apology lingered in her mind not the words themselves, but the restraint behind them. The way he had looked at her as though he were holding something back. Something dangerous.
She pressed her palm against her chest and exhaled.
He is a prince, she reminded herself. And I am nothing more than a servant.
Yet no matter how often she repeated it, the thought brought little comfort.
Across the palace, Emily stood by her chamber window, staring into the darkened gardens below. The dinner had not gone as she imagined it would. She had prepared herself for indifference, perhaps polite distance but not absence. Kira had been there in body, yet his mind had clearly been somewhere else.
And she knew exactly where.
She replayed the moment again and again: the way his gaze had sharpened when the maid crossed the hall, the way his shoulders tensed, the faint shift in his breathing. It was subtle. Most would not have noticed.
But Emily was trained to notice.
"He didn't look at her like a prince looks at a servant," she murmured.
Liora stood a few steps behind her, hesitant.
"Perhaps you are overthinking it, my lady. The prince is known to be reserved."
Emily turned slowly. "No," she said quietly.
"He is controlled. That is different."
For the first time since arriving at Nightfall Palace, doubt crept into her excitement. Not jealousy not yet but caution. A warrior's instinct. Something unseen was moving beneath the surface, and Emily did not like being unaware of the battlefield.
Meanwhile, Kira stood alone in the training courtyard, long after the guards had retired. His sword lay abandoned against the stone wall, untouched. Rain threatened overhead, clouds gathering thick and low, mirroring the weight pressing against his chest.
He had done the right thing. He knew he had.
Apologizing was necessary. Keeping his distance was necessary. Letting Helena go necessary.
And yet, the thought tore at him.
He closed his eyes briefly, gripping the edge of the stone fountain. The image of Helena quiet, composed, trying so desperately to remain invisible refused to leave him. He had sworn to protect his kingdom, to honor alliances, to wear the crown without weakness.
But she had become his weakness without ever trying.
From a shadowed balcony above, unseen by him, Emily watched.
She had followed him quietly, curiosity guiding her steps. And there, in the stillness of the courtyard, she saw something no one had prepared her for.
A prince at war with himself.
Kira straightened suddenly, sensing movement, and Emily stepped back into the shadows before he could look up. Her heart beat faster not with fear, but understanding.
So this was not imagination.
This was not coincidence.
Back in the service quarters, Helena lay awake on her narrow bed, staring at the ceiling. Somewhere in the palace, she knew Kira was awake too. She didn't know why she knew only that the night felt too heavy for sleep.
None of them realized it yet, but something had shifted.
The game had not begun with confrontation or accusation but with observation.
And in Nightfall Palace, watching was often more dangerous than acting.