Three days passed.
Nothing happened.
Which only strengthened Marian’s confidence.
Life continued exactly as it always had.
The capital remained busy.
The Imperial Court remained exhausting.
And Adrian remained Adrian.
If fate intended to ruin her life, it was moving rather slowly.
Marian found that reassuring.
Very reassuring.
In fact, by the fourth day, she was beginning to feel embarrassed for ever taking the novel seriously.
Perhaps that made her foolish.
Perhaps not.
At the moment, she didn’t care.
Because she was currently winning.
"You’re smiling again."
Marian looked up from her book.
Adrian sat across from her in one of the palace’s private libraries.
Sunlight filtered through towering windows.
Dust floated lazily through the air.
The room was silent except for the turning of pages.
One of Marian’s favorite places in the entire palace.
Mostly because nobody bothered them here.
"Am I?"
"You have been for the last ten minutes."
"Perhaps I am happy."
Adrian narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
"Why?"
Marian considered telling him.
She considered saying:
Because the novel was wrong.
Instead, she smiled.
"You’ll become arrogant if I compliment you."
"I already am."
"Exactly."
Adrian sighed.
Then returned to his documents.
Marian watched him for a moment.
It was a habit she had developed years ago.
A dangerous habit.
The kind that happened when someone occupied too much of your heart.
The Crown Prince looked different when working.
Sharper.
More focused.
More serious.
His silver hair occasionally fell into his eyes.
His expression grew unreadable.
Even now, surrounded by stacks of reports and official documents, he looked unfairly handsome.
Marian wondered if he knew.
Probably.
Everyone else certainly did.
"You are staring."
She immediately looked down.
"I was not."
"You were."
"You have no proof."
"You were smiling."
"That proves nothing."
"It proves everything."
Marian threw a cushion at him.
Adrian caught it without looking up.
Infuriating.
Absolutely infuriating.
And somehow she loved him anyway.
The Crown Prince’s schedule was terrifying.
Marian knew this because she had seen it.
Unfortunately.
Most people imagined royalty spent their days attending banquets and enjoying luxury.
They were wrong.
At least where Adrian was concerned.
Military briefings.
Economic reports.
Meetings.
Political negotiations.
Court hearings.
More meetings.
Even more meetings.
The future Emperor’s life was exhausting.
Which was why Marian wasn’t surprised when she occasionally heard rumors about Adrian speaking with Elena.
The first time happened during a charity event.
The second occurred during a court reception.
The third happened after a meeting involving Countess Everett.
None of it seemed unusual.
At least not to Marian.
Elena was Countess Everett’s protégé.
Countess Everett was influential.
Naturally Elena would appear occasionally.
Naturally Adrian would speak with her.
It meant nothing.
Or so Marian believed.
The problem was that the capital disagreed.
The capital loved gossip.
The capital loved rumors.
And most importantly—
The capital loved romance.
Unfortunately.
"It is becoming rather interesting."
Marian immediately regretted sitting beside Lady Beatrice Evermore.
The older noblewoman was responsible for nearly half the rumors circulating through the capital.
The other half originated from her friends.
Marian sipped her tea.
"I already dislike where this conversation is going."
Lady Beatrice smiled.
"Have you met Miss Hart?"
"No."
"Interesting girl."
"So I’ve heard."
"His Highness seems to think so as well."
There it was.
Again.
Always Elena.
Marian leaned back.
Patient.
Calm.
Unbothered.
"What exactly are you suggesting?"
"Nothing."
The woman smiled innocently.
A terrible sign.
"I merely observed that His Highness seems curious."
Curious.
There was that word again.
Marian hated that word.
Mostly because it sounded harmless.
And perhaps because she remembered the novel.
Curiosity.
That had been the beginning.
The very first step.
Still.
Reality wasn’t a novel.
Adrian wasn’t a character.
He was a man.
Her man.
Or at least soon-to-be husband.
Marian smiled.
"I’m sure His Highness is curious about many things."
Lady Beatrice laughed.
"I suppose that’s true."
The conversation moved on.
Marian promptly forgot about it.
Or tried to.
Two days later, she found Adrian in one of the palace gardens.
The spring flowers had fully bloomed.
Bright colors stretched across carefully maintained pathways.
Fountains sparkled beneath the afternoon sun.
Adrian stood near a hedge, speaking with a palace official.
The moment he noticed Marian, his expression softened.
Always.
Every single time.
The sight filled her with ridiculous satisfaction.
The official excused himself.
Leaving them alone.
Adrian immediately offered his arm.
Without thinking.
Without hesitation.
Marian accepted.
Without thinking.
Without hesitation.
Some habits became second nature.
This was one of them.
They began walking.
Slowly.
Comfortably.
Exactly as they had done countless times before.
The silence between them never felt awkward.
It never had.
That was one of the things Marian loved most.
She never needed to perform around Adrian.
Never needed to impress him.
Never needed to think carefully about every word.
She could simply exist.
"Father says the wedding discussions are progressing."
Adrian glanced toward her.
"Does he?"
"He seems pleased."
"He would be."
Marian smiled.
"So would the Emperor."
"Probably."
"The entire Empire."
"Definitely."
"The palace cooks."
Adrian laughed.
"The palace cooks?"
"They adore weddings."
"An excellent political reason."
"I thought so."
For a moment, everything felt perfect.
Simple.
Safe.
Certain.
The future stretched before them exactly as it always had.
Marriage.
The throne.
A life together.
The same dream they had shared for years.
Then Adrian suddenly asked:
"Have you met Miss Hart?"
Marian blinked.
Once.
Twice.
The question wasn’t alarming.
It shouldn’t have been.
Yet something inside her paused.
Only briefly.
"No."
Adrian nodded.
"She’s interesting."
Interesting.
There was that word again.
Marian immediately pushed the thought away.
Interesting was not dangerous.
Interesting was not love.
Interesting was not eighteen years.
Still...
A strange feeling settled in her chest.
Small.
Insignificant.
Easy to ignore.
Like the first crack in a perfectly polished mirror.
"Interesting?" Marian asked lightly.
Adrian looked thoughtful.
"She says whatever comes to mind."
"How terrifying."
"It is."
"Should I be jealous?"
Adrian laughed.
Immediately.
Without hesitation.
The sound eased something inside her.
"Of a healer?"
"I am merely asking."
"No."
The answer came so naturally.
So confidently.
That Marian felt foolish.
Of course.
What had she been thinking?
This was Adrian.
Her Adrian.
Not some stranger from a novel.
The tension disappeared.
Just like that.
The conversation moved elsewhere.
The afternoon continued.
And neither of them realized that for the first time in years—
A third person had entered their conversations.
Only briefly.
Only casually.
Barely worth mentioning.
But she was there.
And sometimes the most dangerous things began as something completely harmless.