Princess Caroline tilted her chin up, refusing to let the unease creeping down her spine show. "Why should you care if I survive anything?"
Dorian's gaze darkened. "Because if you fall, so does everything your mother fought for."
Her breath caught.
He took a step closer, his voice low, urgent. "You think this is just about a marriage? A court full of vipers and whispered threats?" His jaw tightened. "It is so much more than that, Princess."
Princess Caroline folded her arms, keeping her voice even despite the pounding of her heart. "Enlighten me."
Dorian exhaled, glancing down the corridor before speaking. "The rebellion is not some nameless force lurking in the distance. It is here. Within these walls. Closer than you think." His voice dropped lower. "And you, whether you realize it or not, are at the center of it."
She shook her head. "That makes no sense."
"Oh?" Dorian arched a brow. "Then tell me—why do you think they want you dead before this marriage can take root? Why did they wait until you set foot in the Summerlands?"
Caroline swallowed, her mind racing.
Dorian took another step forward, his presence overwhelming in the dimly lit corridor. "You are the last true daughter of Queen Evelyne, the last link to what the Winter Court once was. And to some, that makes you a threat."
She shook her head. "That's ridiculous. I have no power here. I—"
"You will." Dorian's voice was steel. "Once you marry King Casimir, once you stand beside him as queen, you will wield more power than any of them are willing to risk."
Caroline clenched her jaw. "And you think that's what this is about?"
"I know it is."
She searched his face, looking for cracks, for lies. She found none.
A part of her wanted to dismiss him—to pretend this was just another warning wrapped in mystery, another test she had to endure. But something in Dorian's expression told her this was different.
It was real.
"Who is behind this?" she asked finally.
Dorian hesitated before saying, "I don't know. Not yet. But there are whispers of a name. One that I have yet to confirm."
Caroline frowned. "And you think I'm in danger because of them?"
Dorian's lips pressed into a thin line. "You were in danger the moment you agreed to this marriage."
She exhaled sharply, the weight of his words settling over her.
For a long moment, they stood in silence.
Then, Caroline squared her shoulders. "You said the rebellion moves faster than I know. Fine. Then tell me what I must do."
Dorian studied her—truly studied her.
Then, ever so slightly, he inclined his head.
"Learn," he said simply. "Listen. Watch. You are surrounded by enemies, Princess. But you are also surrounded by weapons." His gaze flickered. "Use them."
Princess Caroline held his stare, feeling the unspoken challenge between them.
Then she nodded.
And for the first time, it was not fear or doubt that thrummed through her veins.
It was determination.
Princess Caroline stared at Dorian, his words still settling over her like a slow-moving storm then disappearing as clarity came in.
"You knew my mother," she said carefully. "But it was more than that, wasn't it?"
Dorian's expression didn't change, but something in his posture—**the way his shoulders stiffened, the way his breath hitched just slightly—**told her everything.
She took a step closer. "You loved her."
His jaw tightened. "Yes."
The quiet admission sent a sharp pang through Caroline's chest.
She had known her mother to be a queen, a ruler, a force of nature. But never—never—as a woman who had been loved.
Dorian exhaled slowly, his voice quieter now, as if speaking the truth for the first time in years. "I was young when I first met her. A soldier, a nobody. She was already a queen." His lips curled into something bitter, almost self-deprecating. "I had no right to want her. No right to love her."
Caroline swallowed hard. "But she loved you back."
Dorian's throat bobbed. "Yes."
Silence stretched between them, thick and heavy.
Caroline's hands curled into fists. "Then why—why did she marry my father?"
Dorian let out a slow, unsteady breath. "Because she had no choice."
The words were like ice in her veins.
"She was bound to the throne long before I ever met her," he continued. "Bound by duty, by politics, by the weight of a kingdom on her shoulders." His voice darkened. "And your father—he knew it. He used it."
Caroline flinched.
She had always known her father to be a ruthless ruler, but this—this was something else entirely.
"She married him for the Winter Court," Dorian said. "For you." His gaze flickered with something raw. "But she never stopped loving me."
Caroline's chest tightened.
Her mother the woman who had given birth to her and then tragically died had lived her life trapped in a duty she had not chosen.
And Dorian—this hardened general, this man who now stood before her, swearing to protect her—had once been the only thing that was truly hers.
She exhaled shakily. "Why are you telling me this?"
Dorian hesitated. "Because you deserve to know who she really was." His voice turned rough. "And because I failed her once. I will not fail you."
Caroline held his gaze, something unspoken passing between them.
For the first time, she understood why he had sworn himself to her.
Not just for duty. Not just for guilt.
But for love.
The love he had lost.
And the love he refused to lose again.
Dorian met her gaze. "I should have protected her. I should have stopped what happened. But I didn't." His voice turned rough. "I will not make that mistake again."
A vow.
A promise.
Princess Caroline's throat tightened. "You would risk everything for me? For her memory?"
Dorian nodded, his eyes steady, unwavering.
"I will protect you with my life," he said. "For her. For you."
Caroline didn't know what to say.
So she simply nodded.
And for the first time since arriving in the Summerlands—
She did not feel alone.
Princess Caroline stood frozen, her pulse pounding in her ears.
Dorian Vale—her mother's former lover?
The man who had just sworn to protect her?
She narrowed her eyes. "Why should I believe you?"
Dorian hesitated for only a moment before stepping closer. The flickering torchlight cast sharp shadows across his face, making him look haunted, older than his years.
"Because you deserve the truth," he said quietly.
He reached into his tunic and pulled out a pendant—small, silver, and shaped like a crescent moon.
Caroline inhaled sharply.
Her mother had worn the exact same pendant until the day she died.
"This belonged to her," Dorian murmured. "And this—" he unfastened the clasp on his wrist, revealing a thin leather band, worn with age—"was a gift she gave me the night she swore she would fight for peace."
Caroline's throat tightened.
He wasn't lying.
Dorian's expression darkened. "I was not always a general of the Summerlands."
Caroline stilled. "What?"
He exhaled slowly. "Before the war, before the world was carved into ice and fire, I was a soldier of the Winter Court. I served under Queen Evelyne as one of her personal guards. I—" he hesitated, his voice thick with emotion, "I was more than that to her."
Caroline could barely breathe.
She had spent her entire life knowing her mother was fierce, untouchable, a queen who could not be swayed.
But she had loved a soldier.
She had loved him.
Dorian's jaw clenched. "When the war began, I wanted to stay by her side. But she—she knew the Winter Court would never accept me." His voice turned hollow. "So she sent me away. She told me to run before the King discovered what we were."
Princess Caroline swallowed hard. "And you… joined King Casimir?"
Dorian let out a bitter laugh. "I had nowhere else to go. I became a sword-for-hire, a wandering warrior with no cause. Until the Summer King found me." He lifted his gaze, fierce and unyielding. "King Casimir did not trust me. But he saw what I could do. So he made me one of his own."
Princess Caroline's hands curled into fists. "And yet, you serve him."
Dorian's eyes darkened. "I serve the kingdom because I must. But I serve you because I choose to."
The words settled between them, thick and unbreakable.
Princess Caroline's breath came shallow, the weight of the revelation pressing down on her.
Her mother had loved him.
And now—he would protect her daughter.
She lifted her chin. "If I am to trust you, I need more than words, General."
Dorian nodded. Then, slowly, he dropped to one knee.
A warrior's oath. A vow before a queen.
"I swear to you, Princess Caroline of the Winter Court," he said, his voice strong and unshaken, "that I will guard you with my life. Not as a soldier. Not as a traitor. But as the man who loved your mother and who now swears his loyalty to you."
Princess Caroline's heart thundered.
For the first time in days, she did not feel like a pawn in a deadly game.