Chapter 63

Kaine walks beside her in the corridor, the way he always does. His hands are tucked behind his back, his shoulders straight, his stride perfectly matched to hers. To anyone watching, nothing is different. They still look like the soon-to-be royal pair. The future Alpha and his Luna. Perfectly composed. Perfectly aligned.

But Bianca can feel the difference.

His glances are fewer now. When she speaks, he responds, but the replies are clipped. Neutral. His eyes do not linger when she smiles. He does not brush her hand when they pass through narrow halls. His voice holds no warmth. It is polite, practiced, and distant.

She keeps smiling anyway.

“I met with my tutor this morning,” she says lightly. “We reviewed historical court alliances. He says I’ve improved my analysis.”

Kaine nods. “That’s good.”

Nothing more.

Bianca’s chest tightens. She laughs softly, pretending she hasn’t noticed the way he won’t meet her eyes.

“He’s thinking I’ll be ready to take on mock diplomacy sessions by next month. It’ll be interesting to work through scenarios. I’ve always liked seeing how people shift under pressure.”

Kaine gives a polite hum. They pass two guards, and he acknowledges them with a curt nod before returning his gaze forward. Bianca wants to scream.

She knows exactly why this is happening.

It’s Ember. It’s always Ember.

Bianca doesn’t know what changed between them. She hasn’t seen them alone together. No rumors have surfaced. But Kaine is colder now, and Ember has grown quieter in the halls. Something happened. She knows it.

And now Ember holds the captain’s post.

Bianca clenches her fingers lightly, making sure the motion stays hidden beneath the folds of her coat. Removing Ember won’t be simple anymore. She can’t be dismissed as easily. The position gives her weight. Visibility. Even the Queen has noticed.

Bianca forces her expression to remain relaxed.

That night, after dinner, she finds Kaine just outside the council wing. He’s alone, reviewing something in his hand. She keeps her approach slow, casual.

“I’ve been thinking,” she says. “It might be time to reschedule the engagement banquet.”

Kaine’s brow lifts slightly, but he doesn’t look away from the report.

“With everything calming down in the palace,” Bianca continues, “a formal event might help reinforce stability. People are still looking to us for reassurance.”

He pauses, then finally folds the page and tucks it under his arm.

“I’m not sure the timing is right,” he says.

Bianca’s stomach turns. She smiles anyway.

“I understand,” she says gently. “We’ve both had a lot to manage lately.”

He nods once and says nothing more.

Bianca leaves shortly after, her steps quiet as she returns to her rooms. Once the door closes behind her, she lets the mask fall. Her shoulders drop. Her fingers curl at her sides.

She can feel him slipping. If the banquet is delayed too long, everything she has worked for could vanish. If Ember decides to tell him the truth about the bond, if Kaine starts trusting his instincts instead of the lies he’s believed for months—

She shakes her head.

No. Ember won’t reveal the bond. She’s too cautious. Too proud. But Kaine is drifting, and Bianca needs something to hold his attention. Something Ember can’t compete with.

She just hasn’t figured out what yet.

Ember

The patrol summaries are behind schedule. The estate investigation logs are half-organized. Three training sessions need to be reviewed before the week ends, and a new guard rotation is due by morning.

I adjust my posture and set aside the newest report. My ribs still pull when I lean forward too fast, but I’m used to it now. The pain is familiar. Manageable.

I don’t think about Kaine. I focus on the work.

He hasn’t brought up the kiss again. Neither have I. He comes into my office when necessary, gives instructions, reviews plans. I respond with clipped nods and direct answers. I don’t meet his eyes. I don’t let my voice falter.

Today, we’re reviewing the Chantarelle estate records.

We meet in one of the side rooms near the eastern wing. It’s quiet, dimly lit, the table between us covered in years of records and inheritance ledgers. We’ve been reviewing them for weeks. I already know this will be the last time.

I open the page I flagged yesterday and slide it across the table toward him. “This confirms it. Her father’s name was removed three years ago. The deed was altered to match a false acquisition.”

Kaine frowns as he reads. “But this one—” he flips to another ledger “—still lists his signature. It’s a duplicate. The original was destroyed.”

“We knew something was off when the steward dodged our questions,” I say. “But this confirms it. He was warned.”

Kaine leans back slightly. “That’s enough to open a formal inquiry.”

I nod.

There’s a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes. I keep mine on the documents.

He shifts in his seat, posture easing. “This was good work.”

“Thank you.” My voice is calm, even.

He doesn’t look away.

“I know things have been... tense,” he says quietly. “But I want you to know—”

I close another folder and set it neatly atop the stack. “We should prepare the summary for legal review. I’ll have it finished by the end of the day.”

He’s quiet for a moment, then nods. “All right.”

He says nothing more for the rest of the meeting. The warmth in his tone disappears. The effort vanishes. We go over the rest of the details in silence. When we finish, I slide the records to his side of the table and stand.

“I’ll leave these with you.”

He watches me.

I don’t wait for a reply. I walk out.

Nara?

“You’re hurting both of you by pretending none of it mattered.”

I’m not pretending. He made his choice.

“He kissed you. He’s confused. He’s trying to figure out what this is, and you keep closing every door before he has a chance.”

He has Bianca.

“You don’t believe that. Not really.”

Even if I don’t, it doesn’t matter. He believes it. And the whole kingdom believes it.

Nara doesn’t argue right away.

“You’re afraid,” she says finally. “You think if you admit what this is, you’ll lose everything.”

I will lose everything.

There’s no answer to that.

Back in my room, I set my files down and sit at the edge of the bed. My chest feels tight, like something is pressing down on me. I draw in a slow breath and let it go.

Everything is shifting.

The reports, the missions, the endless cycles of patrol and oversight—I can manage those. But this? The weight of what almost happened, the bond pressing closer each time he looks at me, the memory of his hand brushing mine—it’s harder to bear.

I open the drawer near the bed and look inside. It’s empty. No vial. No potion.

I already used the last one weeks ago.

The suppressant only lasts three months per dose, and getting another isn’t simple. It takes money—more than I ever seem to have. It takes planning, secrecy, a chance to sneak out under false pretenses without being noticed. Last time, I barely pulled it off. I had to lie to two senior guards just to reach the merchant. I traded nearly everything I had left.

And I have nothing now.

The bond is still quiet—for now—but I can feel it rising beneath the surface. Nara is louder than she’s been in weeks. The ache when Kaine is near doesn’t numb as easily. My skin remembers the warmth of his hand. My mind remembers the kiss, the way it made everything fall away, even if only for a moment.

If I don’t get another dose soon, it will break through.

And when it does, there will be no hiding.