The palace was too quiet.
Rowan noticed it the moment the sun dipped beneath the horizon.
Silence in a place like this was never natural. It wasn't peace—it was anticipation. The kind that settled into the bones and whispered that something was coming.
Something wrong.
He stood just outside the prince's chambers, his posture still, his senses sharpened. Every sound, every shift in the air, every distant footstep—he tracked them all.
And yet—
Nothing.
Which made it worse.
Behind him, the door opened.
"You're doing it again."
Rowan turned slightly.
Cassian stepped out, dressed in dark formal attire, the gold embroidery along his collar catching the faint candlelight. His expression was calm, but his eyes—
They were watching.
Always watching.
"Doing what?" Rowan asked.
"Listening like you expect the walls to speak."
"They might."
Cassian hummed softly. "And what would they say?"
"That you're not safe."
A pause.
Something unreadable flickered in Cassian's gaze.
"Is that concern again?" he asked quietly.
"It's fact."
Cassian held his gaze for a moment longer.
Then, unexpectedly—
"Come with me."
Rowan didn't question it.
He never did.
---
The palace gardens were dim at night, lit only by scattered lanterns and the pale glow of the moon.
It was quieter here.
Too quiet.
Gravel crunched beneath their boots as they walked along a narrow path lined with tall hedges and stone statues.
Cassian moved without hesitation, as if he had walked this path a hundred times before.
Rowan stayed close.
Closer than before.
"You chose this place," Rowan said after a moment.
"Yes."
"Why?"
Cassian didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he stopped.
Rowan halted beside him.
The air felt different here.
Heavier.
"Because no one is supposed to follow me here," Cassian said finally.
Rowan's grip tightened slightly at his side. "That sounds like a flaw, not an advantage."
Cassian's lips curved faintly. "Not when I want to see who disobeys orders."
Rowan's eyes sharpened.
A trap.
Of course it was.
"You expect them to try again," Rowan said.
"I expect them to be foolish."
A beat.
Then—
"Stay alert," Cassian added.
Rowan didn't need the instruction.
He was already there.
---
It happened faster than thought.
A shift in the air.
A sound too soft for most to notice—
But Rowan did.
He moved instantly.
"Down."
Cassian barely had time to react before Rowan's hand caught his arm, pulling him sharply aside.
An arrow sliced through the space where Cassian had been standing.
It struck the stone behind them with a sharp crack.
No time to think.
More came.
From the shadows.
From the hedges.
From everywhere.
Rowan stepped in front of Cassian, his sword already drawn.
"Stay behind me," he said, voice low and controlled.
Cassian didn't argue.
But this time—
He didn't stay still either.
Figures emerged from the darkness.
Three.
No—
Five.
All masked.
All armed.
Assassins.
"Persistent," Cassian murmured.
Rowan didn't respond.
The first attacker lunged.
Rowan met him head-on.
Steel clashed.
The force of the impact echoed through the garden, sharp and loud against the night. Rowan moved with precision, his blade cutting through the air with lethal intent.
One down.
But not enough.
Another came from the side.
Rowan pivoted—
Too late.
The blade grazed his arm.
A shallow cut.
But blood spilled instantly.
Cassian saw it.
Something in his expression changed.
"Rowan—"
"I'm fine."
The words were quick.
Sharp.
Dismissive.
But the attack didn't stop.
Two more closed in.
Rowan moved again, faster now, more aggressive. His blade flashed, striking, deflecting, cutting.
Controlled violence.
Efficient death.
But they weren't amateurs.
They adapted.
One feinted.
The other struck.
Rowan blocked the first—
But the second—
The blade drove into his side.
Not deep.
But enough.
Pain flared.
Sharp.
Immediate.
His breath hitched.
Just once.
That was all it took.
Cassian moved.
Not away.
Forward.
He grabbed one of the fallen weapons and drove it straight into the nearest attacker's throat.
The man collapsed instantly.
The others hesitated.
Just for a second.
It was enough.
Rowan pushed forward, ignoring the pain, his movements turning sharper, more ruthless.
One strike.
Two.
Three.
And then—
Silence.
The last body hit the ground.
The garden stilled.
Only the sound of breathing remained.
Rowan stood there, his chest rising and falling steadily, his sword still in hand.
Then—
He swayed.
Just slightly.
Cassian was there instantly.
"Idiot."
The word came out low.
Tight.
Not mocking.
Not amused.
Something else.
His hand caught Rowan's arm, steadying him.
"You're injured."
"It's nothing."
"That's blood."
"I've had worse."
Cassian's grip tightened.
"I don't care if you've had worse."
The words snapped out sharper than intended.
Rowan stilled.
Cassian exhaled slowly, forcing control back into his voice.
"You're coming with me."
"That's not necessary—"
"It wasn't a suggestion."
Silence.
Rowan didn't argue again.
---
The chambers felt different tonight.
Smaller.
Closer.
The moment the door shut behind them, the outside world disappeared.
Leaving only the two of them.
Cassian didn't waste time.
"Sit."
Rowan remained standing.
"I'm fine."
"You're bleeding on my floor."
A pause.
Then—
Rowan sat.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Cassian moved to a nearby table, grabbing cloth, water, and a small vial of something sharp-smelling.
When he returned, he stopped in front of Rowan.
"Remove it."
Rowan didn't move.
Cassian's gaze darkened slightly. "That wasn't a request."
A beat.
Then—
Rowan reached for his shirt, pulling the fabric aside just enough to expose the wound.
Blood had already soaked through.
Cassian's expression tightened.
He stepped closer.
Too close.
Kneeling slightly in front of him.
The distance between them vanished.
"Hold still," Cassian said.
Rowan didn't respond.
But he didn't move either.
Cassian pressed the cloth to the wound.
Rowan's jaw tightened.
But he didn't make a sound.
"You're stubborn," Cassian murmured.
"You noticed."
"I've noticed a lot of things."
The words lingered.
Then—
Cassian poured the liquid over the wound.
Rowan's breath caught—
Sharp.
Involuntary.
Cassian paused.
Just for a moment.
His gaze lifted.
Met Rowan's.
"You feel that," he said quietly.
"I'm not dead."
A faint, almost amused exhale.
"Good."
But his movements softened slightly after that.
Careful.
Precise.
Too careful for someone who claimed not to care.
Rowan noticed.
Of course he did.
"You don't have to do this," Rowan said.
Cassian didn't look up. "Yes, I do."
"Why?"
A pause.
Longer this time.
Then—
"Because you were hurt protecting me."
The words were simple.
But the weight behind them—
Wasn't.
Rowan went still.
Cassian finished wrapping the wound, his fingers brushing briefly against Rowan's skin as he tied the cloth in place.
Another fleeting touch.
Another moment that lingered longer than it should.
"There," Cassian said quietly.
But he didn't move away.
Not immediately.
His hand remained there for a second longer.
Resting.
Then—
Slowly—
He pulled back.
The space between them returned.
But it didn't feel the same.
"Next time," Cassian said, his voice lower now, "don't let them get that close."
Rowan met his gaze. "Next time, don't stand still."
A pause.
Then—
A faint smile.
"You're giving me orders now?"
"I'm keeping you alive."
Cassian's smile didn't fade.
"Careful," he said softly. "That sounds like concern again."
Rowan didn't answer.
Couldn't.
Because something in his chest had tightened—
And he didn't know why.
---
Later that night—
Rowan remained.
Not outside the door.
Not in the shadows.
Inside.
Close enough to see the rise and fall of Cassian's breathing.
Close enough to hear it.
The prince didn't tell him to leave.
Didn't question it.
Didn't push him away.
Because something had changed.
Not just in the fight.
Not just in the wound.
But in the way Cassian looked at him now.
Less like a tool.
Less like a blade.
And more like—
Something he didn't want to lose.
Rowan leaned slightly against the wall, his side still aching, his mind refusing to rest.
Across the room, Cassian spoke.
Quietly.
"Rowan."
"Yes, Your Highness."
A pause.
Then—
"Don't die."
The words were soft.
Barely above a whisper.
But they landed harder than anything else that night.
Rowan's grip tightened slightly at his side.
"I won't."
Another pause.
Then—
"Good."
Silence followed.
But it wasn't empty.
Not anymore.
Because somewhere between blood, steel, and a wound that should not have mattered—
Something had begun to take root.
And neither of them was ready for what it would become.
---