Elena waited.
At first, it was fine. Reasonable. Expected.
He had duties. He was a prince. Kael had mentioned some envoy. Maybe the meeting ran late.
She sat on the edge of the window.
Perfectly calm. Totally composed.
Five minutes passed. Ten. Twenty.
Okay, she thought. He's probably giving orders or… threatening diplomacy or whatever princes do.
She smoothed her hair. Adjusted her dress.
Waited. Forty minutes. An hour.
Her confidence started to… wilt.
Did he forget? Did the envoy need him longer? Did the Sentinels tackle him into completing paperwork?
Another hour. Her stomach twisted.
She started pacing. She kept glancing at the door like it owed her money.
What if he changed his mind? What if he regretted what happened in the corridor? What if Kael said something? What if Soren realized she wasn't worth—
She cut the thought off violently. Two hours became three.
The lantern in the hall flickered from evening to night. Her pulse sank lower and lower until disappointment sat heavily in her chest, stubborn and stupid and impossible to ignore.
Finally—humiliated, exhausted, angry at herself for getting her hopes so high—
Elena slipped quietly back into her room and closed the door behind her.
She didn't cry. But she did throw a pillow at the wall.
Twice.
Then she crawled into bed in the scandalous dress she'd worn for him and stared at the ceiling until sleep dragged her under.
He had not come. Not even to check on her.
And for the first time since arriving in this world, Elena fell asleep feeling… abandoned.
...
Sunlight punched through her curtains like it had something personal against her.
Elena groaned into her pillow.
Her entire body felt heavy, like disappointment had weight.
She forced herself up, rubbing her face. Her hair looked like an angry bird had built a nest in it. Her dress was wrinkled beyond salvation. Her pride was a smoldering ruin.
Perfect.
She cracked her door open—
And immediately slammed it shut.
Because standing directly outside her door was:
Four Sentinels. Fully armored. Fully awake. Staring straight ahead.
Including poor Eris, who turned red the moment he saw her.
Elena whispered, horrified: "Why are you all here?!"
Eris: "We—uh—Your Highness's orders. He told us to… not leave our post."
"What post?"
Eris's ears went pink."…You, my lady."
She nearly evaporated.
"Wonderful," she muttered. "I'm a human houseplant."
She squared her shoulders, opened the door again, and stepped out.
Sentinel Formation: Instant. Perfect. Terrifying.
She tried to walk down the hall like a normal person. Instead she walked like someone who had definitely slept in lingerie while waiting for a prince who never arrived.
She reached the breakfast hall—
And nearly choked.
Because Soren was there. Already seated. Already serene.
Already talking politics with Kael and Claire as if he had not left her to spiral into romantic humiliation for hours.
He looked perfect. Hair tied back. Gloves on.Expression cold and princely. No sign of last night's wildfire.
Meanwhile Elena looked like she had been gently run over by a carriage.
Kael saw her first. He blinked. Slowly. Suspiciously.
Claire's eyebrows climbed.
But Soren—
Soren turned his head toward her. And froze.
For one single heartbeat, Elena saw everything:
Shock. Relief.Hunger. And guilt sharp enough to cut stone.
But then his face shuttered back into icy calm.
"Lady Elena," he said softly, voice smooth, princely, emotionless. As if nothing had happened. As if he had not pressed her against a wall last night and whispered he couldn't control himself.
She stiffened. She would not make this easy for him.
"Your Highness," she said coolly.
Soren inhaled sharply—almost imperceptibly.