The sun slipped past heavy curtains, brushing my face with weak light.
I blinked, dragging myself awake, still tasting the remnants of last night's rain and panic.
My hair was tangled, my skin clammy, but nothing a few deep breaths couldn't fix.
The palace was awake too, though in a more insidious way.
Whispers floated through the corridors like stray leaves caught in a storm.
I could already hear it: the news of my cliff stunt had traveled faster than any royal decree.
"The princess is… unstable."
"Completely lost her mind, that one."
"Should we call the healers?"
I rolled my eyes, sitting up with a groan. If the kingdom wanted drama, they could have at least brewed some decent tea.
The maids arrived shortly after, their expressions a mix of concern and gossipy excitement.
One of them... clearly tuned to the latest rumors...paused mid-step, peeking at me curiously.
"My lady…" she began, voice trembling slightly.
I raised a finger. "You may start again when your face shows less horror and more professionalism."
Jacquie quietly took the breakfast trolley from them and they retreated, muttering rapidly among themselves.
"Don't tell me they're calling royal healers." I muttered
"They would arrive soon, my lady." Jacquie replied, offering me a full spoon of porridge.
"That's not what I wanted to hear!" I groaned.
That afternoon, the castle gleamed brighter than usual.
Apparently, an ambassador from a neighboring kingdom was visiting. Someone important enough to have everyone scrambling like panicked hens.
I didn't care. Or rather, I tried not to.
Until Jacqueline found me mid-bite of a pastry and announced that I'd been summoned to join the royal luncheon.
Of course I had.
When I arrived, the grand hall was already packed.
The queen sat poised at the center, Tristen on her left, his face locked in that calm, unreadable expression I was beginning to know too well.
The ambassador, a tall man with slicked-back hair and a smile far too confident, sat opposite him.
I took my seat at the end of the table, praying no one would notice me.
Spoiler: everyone did.
Halfway through the meal, the ambassador leaned forward, his gaze drifting toward me. "So this is the infamous Princess Ioana," he said.
"The one who nearly drowned and lived to tell the tale. How fascinating."
I forced a smile. "Yes, nearly dying is one of my hobbies."
Tristen stiffened. I felt his silent Ioana, don't.
The ambassador chuckled. "Such wit. No wonder His Highness seems… taken with you."
Oh no. Here we go again.
I caught Tristen's look, that warning glare that said behave.
The queen cleared her throat. "Princess Ioana," she said in that regal, don't-you-dare-tone, "perhaps you'd share how you find the hospitality of our court?"
I smiled sweetly. "Oh, it's wonderful. Especially the part where people pretend not to gossip about you while you're standing right there."
Tristen's fork clinked against his plate.
The ambassador raised a brow, intrigued. "Ah, so you're quite direct."
"She means she loves it here," he said in that calm tone if his. "Right, Ioana?"
I smiled tight-lipped. "Sure. That's exactly what I meant."
After hours of listening to boring royal politics, the luncheon finally ended.
I slipped out before anyone could summon me for another round of royal performance.
The palace corridors felt suffocating. Too many eyes. Too many whispers.
So I walked.
No destination. No plan. Just wherever my feet decided to take me.
The air grew cleaner the farther I wandered, until the scent of hay and leather replaced perfume and politics.
I stopped.
Stables.
Rows upon rows of them. Horses shifting, snorting softly, hooves scraping against wood. Power contained behind doors.
That explained the horses etched on every banner and the statues in every corner.
Then...I saw it.
It was white, with a long, gleaming mane like silk under the sun. Taller than the rest. Stronger. Its stable bars were gilded... actual gold embedded into dark polished wood.
Of course. Royalty for royalty.
It stood apart from the others. Separate. Isolated.
I tilted my head.
"Well," I muttered, stepping closer. "You look just as trapped as I feel."
The horse huffed softly.
"Hi," I said, pushing the stable door open. "I hope you don't mind if I borrow you for a tiny act of rebellion."
It gave a low neigh. That was good enough for permission.
Mounting it... was another story entirely. It took effort.
Dignity was lost. Pride was bruised. But eventually...
I was on.
I tugged the reins confidently. "Forward."
The horse surged. That was when I immediately realized something important.
I had absolutely no idea how to ride a horse!
It bolted through the open gates before I could reconsider my life choices.
Wind slapped against my face. My hair whipped wildly behind me.
"Slow down!" I yelled.
It did not slow down. It accelerated.
The world blurred. Trees rushed past. The ground pounded beneath us in violent rhythm. The reins slipped against my sweaty palms.
"This was a mistake!" I screamed into the wind.
Up ahead...Water.
A lake.
"No no no no no...STOP!"
The horse charged straight toward it instead.
So this is how I die. Not from cliffs. Not from politics. From equestrian stupidity. I thought.
I braced myself for the worst.
Until...
"Ashere!"
The sharp command cut through the chaos.
The horse halted so abruptly I nearly flew over its head. I clung desperately to its neck, face buried in its mane, heart slamming against my ribs.
Slowly, carefully, I slid off and landed on the grass, knees slightly shaking.
Hoofbeats approached.
I didn't look up immediately, because I already knew.
Before he could say anything, I blurted out, "I wasn't trying to drown myself this time."
Silence.
I slowly lifted my head.
Tristen sat tall on his black stallion. Sleek. Controlled. Dangerous in a quiet way.
Very fitting for him.
He didn't argue. Didn't sigh. Didn't even scold me.
Instead, he dismounted.
That alone was unsettling.
He walked toward me, boots pressing softly into the grass, then stopped in front of me.
And held out his hand.
I blinked.
That was… highly unlikely of him.
He tilted his head slightly, as if to say, Well?
"Oh," I muttered, brushing my palms on my dress. "Right. Hands."
Reluctantly, I placed mine in his.
His grip was firm but not rough. Warm. Steady.
He pulled me up effortlessly, like I weighed nothing at all.
Before I could question anything further, he guided me toward his horse.
"Wait..."
He lifted me into the saddle.
"In front," he said simply.
Very awkward.
I sat stiffly while he mounted behind me, the heat of him suddenly everywhere. His arm reached around me to take the reins.
I could feel the rise and fall of his breathing. Calm. Controlled.
Unlike mine.
Without another word, he nudged the horse forward.
He didn't take the route we came from and I noticed immediately.
"Are we… exiling me?" I asked cautiously.
"No."
That was all he said.
The ride was smoother this time. Slower. Intentional.
The air changed as we moved further from the palace grounds. The scent of lakewater faded, replaced by wildflowers and untouched grass.
He pulled the horse to a stop and oh-my-fluttering-butterflies...
Rolling hills dipped into a valley of silver-green grass, kissed by sunlight.
A narrow stream cut through it, glinting like scattered diamonds. Wildflowers swayed lazily in the breeze.
It was… breathtaking.
Tristen dismounted first, then offered his hand again.
I took it without comment this time.
When my feet touched the ground, I looked around slowly.
"You bring all reckless princesses here," I asked, "or am I special?"
A faint, very faint exhale escaped him. Almost a laugh.
Almost.
"I'm sorry...for taking the horse." The words came out before I could stop them.
He didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he looked at me. Like really looked at me...as if measuring something he hadn't quite figured out yet.
We stood in the open field, wind brushing through tall grass, sunlight warming everything the palace never could.
I folded my arms, not defensively this time. Just unsure of where to put my hands.
"You didn't have to chase after me," I said.
"But I did." he replied.
Simple. Certain.
I glanced at him. "Because of the horse?"
A pause.
"No," he said quietly. "Because of you."
That silenced me.
The breeze moved through my hair, and I suddenly became very aware of how small the world felt without walls around us.
He stepped a little closer... not invading, just closing the distance enough to speak quietly.
"You think I detest you," he said.
I let out a soft breath. "You don't exactly hide it."
His jaw shifted slightly, but not in irritation. In thought.
"I don't detest you, Ioana."
The way he said my name felt different out here. Less formal. Less guarded.
"I…" He stopped, as if choosing words he wasn't used to saying.
"You're unpredictable. And kingdoms fall over unpredictability"
"So this is about control," I said quietly.
"No," he answered immediately. "It's about stability."
I looked down at the grass beneath my shoes, biting my lower lip.
"I'm not trying to ruin anything," I said, voice softer than I intended. "I just… don't fit into what everyone expects."
"I know."
That made me look up.
He exhaled slowly. "And that's why I suggest we start off as...allies."
I stared at him. Allies?
The word felt odd in his royal mouth, like he wasn't built to say it.
"With the way you scowl and get on my nerves?" I said. "No, thank you."
"If we stand opposed," he continued, "the court will divide. If we stand together, they will settle. I don't need you to change who... you've become."
A small pause.
"I just need to understand you."
That one landed. Sarcasm eluded me.
I searched his face, trying to find the mockery, the hidden irritation but...there was none.
Only exhaustion. And something almost like honesty.
"You really don't hate me?" I asked, and immediately regretted how young that sounded.
His lips curved. Not a full smile, but close.
"If I hated you," he said quietly, "I wouldn't have brought you here."
True.
"And what happens," I asked slowly, "if we try this… alliance?"
His eyes bore into mine.
"We'll stop fighting each other," he said. "And start fighting for the same thing."
Peace.
Not the rigid, suffocating palace version.
But something steadier.
I hesitated. Then nodded once.
"Fine," I said softly. "Allies."
This time, when he offered his hand, it wasn't to help me stand.
It was to seal it.
I stared at it for a moment.
Then placed my hand in his.
His grip tightened briefly. Not possessive. Not forceful.
Just certain.
I stared at him, his eyes too focused on the horizon.
Perhaps frost was never cruel.
Only careful about what it allowed to survive the winter.