The palace was an intricate web of secrets, and Eva could feel the strands tightening around her with every passing day. Word of her presence had spread quickly, and with it came the inevitable undercurrents of gossip. Servants whispered as she walked by, their voices barely audible but their meanings clear.
She was the outsider. The one forced into their world.
It was late evening when Eva ventured out of her chambers, her mind restless. She told herself it was to familiarize herself with the palace, but deep down, she needed to feel a semblance of control, even if it was just wandering corridors she barely understood.
The marble floors echoed beneath her soft slippers, and the dim light of flickering torches cast long shadows along the walls. The opulence of her surroundings still felt alien—so different from the humble life she had once known.
As she turned a corner, a sharp voice halted her steps.
"You're out late, Lady Evalina."
Eva turned to find a woman standing in the shadows. She was striking, her raven-black hair pulled into an intricate braid, her emerald-green gown shimmering faintly in the torchlight.
"Lady Celeste," Eva greeted, her tone cautious. She remembered the name from the council meeting—one of the more vocal nobles, known for her sharp tongue and sharper ambitions.
"Exploring the palace, are we?" Celeste's smile was polite, but her eyes held a glint of something far less friendly.
"I find it hard to sleep," Eva admitted, choosing her words carefully. "The palace is... overwhelming."
Celeste stepped closer, her heels clicking against the marble. "Understandable. Adjusting to a new life takes time. And patience."
There was something in her tone that put Eva on edge, but she forced herself to remain calm. "I appreciate your understanding, Lady Celeste."
Celeste's smile widened, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Oh, I'm sure you'll adjust. But be careful, Lady Evalina. The palace isn't always as it seems. Sometimes, what looks like a gilded cage is something much worse."
Before Eva could respond, Celeste swept past her, her perfume lingering in the air.
Eva continued her walk, her encounter with Celeste leaving her uneasy. She turned into a quieter wing of the palace, hoping for solitude. Instead, she found Prince Alaric.
He was standing on a balcony, the cool night air ruffling his dark hair. For a moment, Eva hesitated. He hadn't seen her yet, and she debated whether to leave him be.
But something about the way he stood—tense, as if holding back the weight of the world—made her stay.
"Can't sleep either?" she asked, stepping onto the balcony.
Alaric turned, his expression neutral but his eyes revealing a flicker of surprise. "Lady Evalina."
She leaned against the railing, staring out at the sprawling gardens below. The moonlight bathed everything in a silvery glow, softening the edges of the harsh world around them.
"This place is suffocating," Eva said after a moment.
Alaric didn't respond immediately. When he spoke, his voice was quiet. "It is. But it's also where we are now. Wishing it were different won't change that."
Eva glanced at him, noting the shadows under his eyes. "Do you ever wish it could be different? That you could just... leave?"
He let out a bitter laugh. "Every day. But duty has a way of chaining you to the life you're born into."
For the first time, Eva saw not the stoic prince but the man beneath the title—a man burdened by expectations he never chose.
"Maybe we're not so different," she murmured.
Alaric looked at her, his expression softening. "Perhaps not."
Their tentative peace was interrupted by the sound of hurried footsteps. A young page appeared, his face pale and his breathing labored.
"Your Highness, Lady Evalina," he stammered, bowing low. "There's been... an incident in the eastern wing. Lord Edrik is demanding your presence immediately."
Eva and Alaric exchanged a glance before following the boy through the labyrinthine halls.
When they arrived, they found a group of nobles gathered, their faces tense. In the center of the room stood Lord Edrik, his sharp eyes narrowing as he spotted them.
"Your Highness," he said, his tone clipped. "It seems we have an intruder in the palace. A spy, no doubt."
Eva's heart skipped a beat as she noticed the figure being held by two guards. It was a young woman, her clothes tattered, her face streaked with dirt but her eyes defiant.
"Who is she?" Alaric asked, his voice calm but commanding.
"She claims to be a servant," Edrik sneered. "But we found her lurking near the council chambers. She refuses to explain herself."
Eva stepped closer, her gaze meeting the woman's. There was something familiar about her, though Eva couldn't place it.
"Let her speak," she said, her voice firm.
Edrik's lips thinned, but he nodded reluctantly.
The woman lifted her chin, her voice steady despite her obvious fear. "I am no spy. I came to deliver a message—a warning."
"A warning about what?" Alaric asked, his tone skeptical.
Her eyes flicked to Eva, and for a moment, she hesitated. Then she said, "The court is not what it seems. There are those who would see you fall, Lady Evalina. They see you as a threat to their power, and they will stop at nothing to ensure you fail."
The room fell silent, the weight of her words hanging in the air.
Eva's mind raced. She didn't know whether to trust the woman, but one thing was certain—her life in the palace was far more dangerous than she had anticipated.