The letter lay on Elira's desk, its edges worn and softened by her restless touch. She hadn't meant to read it again—she had promised herself to put it away, to forget the dangerous thrill it stirred in her chest. But the words drew her back, as they always did, like the whisper of a forbidden song.

Your beauty is not the jewels of your crown or the silk of your gown, but the fire in your soul. A fire I would burn to know.

Prince Kael. His name alone made her pulse quicken, though she had never seen his face. Their correspondence had begun with formality polite exchanges between two heirs to distant thrones. Yet somewhere in the lines of diplomatic courtesy, a thread of something deeper had been woven. And now, she couldn't stop pulling at it.

The flame of a nearby candle flickered, throwing shadows across the room. Elira's eyes lingered on the letter one last time before she folded it and slipped it into a small compartment beneath her desk. If her father discovered it, there would be no room for explanations.

A sharp knock startled her. "Come in," she said quickly, her voice steadier than she felt.

The door opened to reveal Liora, her trusted maid. The young woman's expression betrayed nothing, but Elira caught the faintest hesitation in her step.

"Your Highness," Liora said softly, "the king has called for you. He's in the council chambers."

Elira's heart sank. "Did he say why?"

"No, but…" Liora hesitated. "It seemed urgent."

Elira nodded, smoothing her gown as she rose. "Thank you, Liora."

The maid paused at the door. "Be careful, Princess," she murmured, her gaze flickering to the desk where the letter had been moments before.

Elira swallowed hard. "I always am."

The council chambers loomed ahead like a storm on the horizon. As Elira pushed open the heavy doors, the air inside felt heavy, charged with something unspoken. Her father stood at the head of the long table, his advisors seated in grim silence. A map of the kingdom was spread before them, marked with ominous streaks of red ink.

"Join us," the king said, his voice clipped.

Elira stepped forward, her pulse quickening. She didn't need to ask what this was about. The borders were restless, her father's temper shorter than ever. But as she glanced at the map, her mind drifted back to the hidden letter and the man who had written it.

Kael's words lingered in her thoughts, as dangerous and intoxicating as the fire he claimed to see in her.

And as she took her place at the table, she knew one thing for certain: secrets as dangerous as hers couldn't stay hidden forever.

Elira's mind wandered, her father's voice nothing more than a distant hum as the council meeting dragged on. Each word seemed to bounce off her like raindrops against a window—meaningless, slipping away from her thoughts. She couldn't focus on the political discussions, the endless debates about alliances and borders. Her thoughts were somewhere else, hidden behind the weight of a letter that she hadn't been able to forget since it first arrived.

Your strength, your fire… The words danced in her mind. Kael had no right to make her feel this way, to stir a longing she hadn't known existed. But somehow, he did.

Her father's voice broke through her haze again, sharper this time.

"Elira?"

She blinked, snapping back to the present. The council members were all looking at her, waiting for something—waiting for her answer, her input. Her father's eyes were hard, unreadable, and she realized with a jolt that they had been waiting for her to speak for some time.

"I'm sorry, Father," she said, forcing the words out, "I was… thinking about the border patrol."

Her father didn't seem convinced, but he didn't press her further. Instead, he turned to the others and continued with the discussion, his voice steady and authoritative.

Elira's mind drifted again, the room spinning around her as she tried to focus on the map spread out before her—the lines of red ink marking troubled borders. Her kingdom was on the brink of something, and her father's solution was simple: a marriage.

Prince Renar. A man she'd met once, who had never made an impression. His offer was one of alliance, not affection. It was a match that made perfect sense—politically. But it left Elira feeling hollow. Her life would be set in stone, no room for her own desires or choices.

Her father's voice came again, pulling her from her spiraling thoughts.

"This is no time for hesitation," he said, his tone hardening. "We need this marriage, Elira. The future of the kingdom depends on it."She nodded, her throat tightening. She understood. She always understood. But understanding didn't make it easier.

"I'll do my duty," she said, the words feeling foreign on her tongue.

Her father's expression softened slightly, and he gave a small nod of approval. "Good. We'll send word to Eltheria at once."

The meeting broke up, and Elira stood, her legs shaky as she walked toward the door. Her father's words lingered in the air, a reminder that the path before her was set. A political marriage to secure peace. Her duty as a princess, as a ruler.

But as she stepped out into the hall, the weight of that decision felt heavier than ever.

Her mind drifted back to Kael's words. The fire he saw in her. The passion that burned beneath her royal façade. Was that even possible? Or was it a dream she couldn't afford to chase?

She reached her chambers and closed the door behind her, her breath catching as her gaze fell on the desk where the letter remained hidden.

For a moment, she stood still, her thoughts a whirlwind. What if there was more to life than duty? What if she could follow her heart, even for a moment, and see where it led?

But the reality of her situation pressed in on her—the crown, the kingdom, the expectations. They couldn't be ignored. And yet, as her fingers brushed the drawer where Kael's letter waited, she realized something.

She didn't know how long she could keep pretending her heart didn't matter.