_*]:min-w-0 !gap-3.5">The week of training that followed was the most grueling Natalie had experienced since her transformation from Nathaniel. Martha was a demanding instructor, clearly resentful of the irregur appointment and determined to find Natalie cking.

  "No, no, NO!" she barked as Natalie attempted to demonstrate the proper way to arrange formal attire. "The ceremonial sash goes OVER the jacket, not beneath it! Do you want to humiliate the prince in front of the entire court?"

  Natalie bit back a retort and silently rearranged the garments on the mannequin they were using for practice. Her fingers, nimble from years of helping her father with bindings, quickly mastered the complex folds and fastenings of royal clothing, but the protocols and precedents governing every aspect of a prince's life seemed endless.

  "When His Highness bathes, you will prepare the water but leave the room during his bathing unless specifically requested to stay," Martha instructed. "You will y out fresh towels and a warming robe. You will NEVER enter his bedchamber without announcing yourself first, regardless of the hour."

  This particur instruction brought both relief and new anxiety. Natalie had been desperately concerned about how to maintain her disguise during such intimate duties. Apparently, some degree of privacy was traditional—but would it be enough?

  The hardest part was leaving her roommates in the servants' dormitory. Despite her careful distance, she had grown fond of them, especially Rebecca, whose quiet intelligence reminded her of Julian.

  "I don't understand why you're being promoted," Grace compined as Natalie packed her few belongings. "You've barely been here a season."

  "It's not fair," agreed Sarah, the senior maid. "Some of us have worked for years to earn positions in the royal household proper."

  Only Rebecca offered genuine congratutions. "You'll do well," she said softly. "You have a careful way about you. The young prince needs that, I think."

  Natalie hugged her impulsively. "Thank you. I'll miss our talks."

  "Just don't forget us when you're hobnobbing with royalty," Lily and Rose chimed in together, their customary unison lightening the moment.

  Moving into the small chamber adjoining Prince Julian's quarters was like entering another world. Though modest by royal standards, the room contained luxuries unimaginable in the servants' dormitory: a bed with a real feather mattress, a small writing desk, a wooden chest for personal belongings, and even a tiny window that overlooked one of the pace gardens.

  "Your predecessor kept it tidy, at least," Martha sniffed as she showed Natalie the space. "Remember, you are here to serve, not to indulge in comfort. The prince may require your assistance at any hour."

  "I understand, ma'am," Natalie replied, fighting to keep the wonder from her voice. A room of her own—a sanctuary where she could, briefly, let down her guard without fear of discovery.

  The connecting door to Julian's chambers remained closed during her first two days in the new quarters. The prince was occupied with formal duties that required Garrett's attendance, while Natalie completed her training. The disgraced attendant had not yet been informed of his imminent repcement—a precaution Julian had insisted upon.

  On the morning of the third day, as Natalie was memorizing the precise temperature at which the prince preferred his bathwater, a sharp knock came at her door.

  "Enter," she called, hastily setting aside her notes.

  Madame Bckwood swept in, her expression grave. "It is time," she said without preamble. "Prince Julian has formally requested the dismissal of his current attendant, effective immediately. You will assume your duties this afternoon."

  Natalie's heart began to race. "What reason did His Highness give for the dismissal?"

  "Incompetence and neglect of duties." Madame Bckwood's tone was carefully neutral. "Garrett has been reassigned to the kitchens. He is... displeased."

  A chill ran through Natalie. An enemy made was dangerous enough; an enemy with knowledge of pace workings could be deadly.

  "I see," she said quietly.

  "Prince Julian will return from his mathematics lesson at the fourteenth bell. You will be waiting in his chambers to assist him in changing for the evening meal with the imperial family." Madame Bckwood handed her a small ring of keys. "These will open His Highness's wardrobes and personal cabinets. Guard them carefully."

  "Yes, ma'am."

  The older woman studied her for a moment. "Are you afraid, girl?"

  Natalie hesitated, then decided on honesty. "Yes, ma'am. But I will not fail."

  Something like approval flickered in Madame Bckwood's eyes. "See that you don't. Now come—I will show you the prince's chambers myself."

  Prince Julian's quarters were far more austere than Natalie had imagined. Unlike the opulent chambers she had glimpsed when delivering books to other royal family members, Julian's rooms were almost spartan: functional furniture, muted colors, and walls lined with bookshelves rather than gilded ornaments or hunting trophies.

  The only extravagances were a magnificent celestial globe that dominated one corner and a collection of finely bound maps spread across a rge table by the window.

  "His Highness prefers order," Madame Bckwood expined, noting Natalie's surprise. "He dismisses most gifts of frivolity and refuses to allow servants to rearrange his books or papers."

  As they toured the chambers—a formal receiving room, a study area, a bedchamber, and a bathing room—Natalie noticed other signs of Julian's character: carefully beled specimen boxes containing rocks and dried pnts; neat stacks of correspondence; a chessboard with a game in progress, pyed apparently against himself.

  "You will find His Highness is unlike his brothers," Madame Bckwood said as they finished the tour. "He values knowledge over spectacle, substance over appearance. Serve him well, and you may find more reward than merely wages."

  "I will do my best, ma'am," Natalie promised.

  Left alone in Julian's chambers, she took a deep breath and began preparing for her first official duties. She selected appropriate garments for the evening meal, ensuring that each piece was immacute and properly arranged. She checked that fresh water had been brought for washing and that the prince's boots were polished to a mirror shine.

  When all was ready, she stood by the window, watching the gardens below and trying to calm her racing thoughts. This position would bring her closer to Julian, yes—would allow her to help protect him—but it also exposed her to countless new risks of discovery.

  The sound of the door opening startled her from her reverie. She turned, composing her features into the proper respectful expression, and dropped into a deep curtsey as Prince Julian entered.

  "Your Highness," she murmured, keeping her eyes lowered as protocol demanded.

  There was a moment of silence before Julian spoke, his voice carrying an unfamiliar formal tone. "Miss Foster. I trust you find your new accommodations satisfactory?"

  "Yes, Your Highness. Thank you for the honor of serving you."

  Julian moved to close the door, and as it clicked shut, his formal demeanor evaporated. "Natalie," he said urgently, "we can speak freely now. These rooms are among the few pces I'm certain aren't watched or listened to."

  She straightened, relief washing over her. "Is it done, then? Garrett is gone?"

  Julian nodded, his young face grim. "He's been reassigned. I made no accusations—as we agreed—but he knew. The way he looked at me..." The prince shuddered slightly. "He knows I suspect something."

  "Did he ever try again? With the tea, or anything else?"

  "No. He became extraordinarily careful after that first attempt." Julian moved to his desk and sank into the chair. "But I couldn't sleep, knowing he might be waiting for another opportunity."

  Natalie approached cautiously, still uncertain of the boundaries in this new retionship. "You're safe now," she said gently. "I won't let anyone harm you."

  A small smile curved Julian's lips. "My protector, disguised as my servant. It's like something from one of the old stories."

  "I'm hardly a legendary hero," she demurred. "Just a bookbinder's daughter trying to survive."

  "We must be absolutely vigint, Natalie," Julian said, suddenly serious. "The pace is full of eyes and ears. My brothers have spies everywhere."

  "They won't discover anything," she assured him, though her stomach knotted at the thought of her secret being exposed. "I've been careful for months without incident. And now, with a private chamber, it will be easier to serve you properly."

  "But harder in others. You'll be watched more carefully as my attendant. The other princes' servants will report your every move, looking for weaknesses or secrets they can exploit."

  Natalie nodded grimly. "I understand. I'll be careful."

  Julian rose and began pacing, his hands csped behind his back in a gesture that made him seem older than his nine years. "We need to establish clear routines," he said. "Times when you'll enter my chambers, procedures for dressing and other duties. The more predictable we appear, the less scrutiny we'll attract."

  "Martha has trained me in all the standard protocols."

  "Good. We'll follow them precisely." He paused, turning to face her. "And we'll continue our study sessions, but more formally now. It will provide cover for our conversations."

  They spent the next hour pnning their strategy, speaking in low voices despite Julian's assurance of privacy. When they had settled the essential details, Natalie gnced at the ornate clock on the mantel.

  "Your Highness, it's nearly time for the evening meal. We should prepare you."

  Julian grimaced. "Another delightful dinner watching Augustus torment anyone who catches his eye."

  "Perhaps you could plead illness?" Natalie suggested.

  The prince shook his head resolutely. "No. Avoiding Augustus only makes him more determined to find me ter. Better to endure his presence with witnesses around."

  Natalie nodded and moved to the wardrobe, retrieving the garments she had prepared earlier. As she helped Julian change from his study clothes into the more formal attire required for imperial family meals, she was struck by how frail he seemed. Though intelligent beyond his years, he was still a child—small for his age, with delicate wrists and shoulders that bore the weight of his imperial bloodline like an ill-fitting cloak.

  "There," she said when she had fastened the st button and straightened his colr. "Every inch a prince."

  Julian examined his reflection in the mirror and sighed. "If only looking the part were enough."

  "You are more than enough," Natalie said firmly, forgetting herself for a moment. "Your mind is sharper than any sword your brothers might wield."

  A look of surprise crossed Julian's face, followed by a genuine smile—rare and transformative. "Thank you, Natalie," he said softly. "For everything."

  She blushed and stepped back, remembering her pce. "I'll await your return, Your Highness."

  Julian nodded and squared his shoulders. "Remember, if anyone comes while I'm gone—"

  "I'm organizing your study materials as directed," she finished for him. "And I speak to no one about your private matters."

  "Exactly." He moved toward the door, then hesitated. "Natalie? I'm gd you're here."

  Then he was gone, leaving her alone in his chambers with the weight of their shared secrets and the knowledge that they had embarked on a path from which there could be no turning back.

  The evening stretched long as Natalie waited for Julian's return. She used the time to familiarize herself with the precise organization of his study materials and the location of his various possessions. She noted with interest that many of his books were advanced texts on governance, military strategy, and diplomatic history—subjects far beyond what might be expected for a nine-year-old prince, even an imperial one.

  She was examining a particurly detailed map of the empire's northern provinces when she heard footsteps in the corridor outside—too heavy to be Julian's. Quickly, she repced the map exactly as she had found it and moved to the desk, where she began arranging writing implements as if that had been her task all along.

  The door opened without a knock, and a tall, solidly built young man strode in as if he owned the chamber. Natalie immediately recognized Prince Augustus from the few glimpses she had caught of him in the pace corridors—Julian's eldest half-brother, sixteen years old and already developing the muscur frame that made him a formidable opponent in the training yard.

  She dropped into a deep curtsey, keeping her eyes lowered. "Your Imperial Highness," she murmured, her heart hammering. "Prince Julian is not present. He attends the imperial family dinner."

  "I'm well aware where my little brother is," Augustus replied, his voice deep for his age and carrying a note of casual arrogance. "I've come to see his new... acquisition."

  Natalie remained in her curtsey, not daring to look up. "Sir?"

  "You," Augustus crified, circling her as if inspecting a horse at market. "The library maid who's somehow charmed her way into a position far above her station."

  "His Highness requested my service," she replied carefully. "I serve at his pleasure and that of the imperial household."

  Augustus made a dismissive sound. "My brother has peculiar tastes. Books and maps instead of swords and horses. And now a little slip of a girl as his attendant instead of a proper manservant."

  He leaned down, forcing Natalie to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark, unlike Julian's clear blue ones, and held none of his half-brother's gentleness.

  "Tell me, girl, what special skills do you possess that so impressed our schorly prince?"

  The insinuation in his tone made Natalie's cheeks flush with indignation, but she kept her voice steady. "I assist His Highness with his studies, organizing his research materials and fetching references as needed."

  "Is that all?" Augustus straightened, looking skeptical. "Curious that he would dismiss a perfectly capable attendant—one I recommended personally—for such trivial services."

  "I cannot speak to His Highness's decisions," Natalie replied, lowering her gaze again. "I merely serve as directed."

  Augustus reached out suddenly, gripping her chin and forcing her face up. His fingers were calloused from weapons training, his grip painfully tight.

  "Look at me when I speak to you," he commanded. "I want to understand what my brother sees in such an unremarkable creature."

  Terror seized Natalie—not just fear of Augustus's cruelty, but the primal fear of discovery. At such close range, would he notice the subtle differences in her jawline, the faint shadow on her upper lip that she carefully removed each morning?

  "Release her at once, Augustus."

  The command came from the doorway, where Julian stood, his small frame tense with anger. Though physically dwarfed by his older brother, there was something in his posture that spoke of authority beyond his years.

  Augustus's grip tightened briefly before he let go with a contemptuous flick. "Ah, brother. I was just becoming acquainted with your new pet."

  "Miss Foster is my attendant, not my pet," Julian replied coldly. "And you have no business in my chambers without invitation."

  "No business?" Augustus ughed. "I'm the heir to the empire. There's nowhere in the pace I don't have business."

  Julian stepped fully into the room, closing the door behind him. Despite his fear, Natalie admired his courage in confronting his intimidating brother.

  "What do you want, Augustus?" Julian asked directly.

  The older prince smiled, a predatory expression that never reached his eyes. "Merely to satisfy my curiosity. Garrett served you well for months, yet suddenly he's deemed incompetent? And repced by this... girl?" He gestured dismissively toward Natalie. "It raises questions."

  "Questions you might have asked me directly, rather than harassing my staff," Julian countered.

  Augustus's smile hardened. "Perhaps I should ask Father. I'm sure he would be interested to know that his youngest son is surrounding himself with... unusual companions."

  Julian didn't flinch. "By all means, speak to Father. I'm certain he'll be fascinated to learn how deeply invested you are in my domestic arrangements."

  The two brothers stared at each other for a long moment, tension crackling between them. Finally, Augustus turned away with a forced ugh.

  "Always so serious, little brother. I was merely concerned for your welfare." He moved toward the door but paused beside Natalie. "Take care, Miss Foster," he said softly. "Service to Prince Julian can be... hazardous to one's health."

  When the door closed behind him, Julian sagged visibly. "Are you all right?" he asked Natalie. "Did he hurt you?"

  She rubbed her chin where Augustus's fingers had dug in. "No, Your Highness. I'm fine."

  Julian crossed to his desk and sank into the chair. "I apologize for my brother's behavior. He's always been... difficult."

  "He suspects something," Natalie said quietly.

  "Yes. But he doesn't know what, exactly." Julian looked troubled. "He recommended Garrett personally. If Garrett was indeed trying to poison me, Augustus may have been behind it."

  The implications of this were chilling. "Your own brother?"

  "Half-brother," Julian corrected automatically. "And yes. The succession is... complicated. Despite being the youngest, I've been showing aptitude that threatens Augustus. Father mentioned giving me my own household next year, and Augustus fears my growing influence." He sighed heavily. "Politics makes monsters of people, Natalie."

  She moved closer, forgetting protocol in her concern. "What should we do?"

  "Be vigint. Trust no one outside this room." He gnced up at her, his young face grave. "Especially now that Augustus has taken note of you."

  "He called me your 'acquisition,'" Natalie said, frowning.

  Julian looked pained. "He would see you that way. As an object, a possession." He shook his head. "Augustus understands power but not people."

  They fell silent, each absorbing the gravity of their situation. Finally, Julian stood.

  "It's been a long day," he said. "We should both rest."

  Natalie nodded and moved efficiently to help him prepare for bed, turning down the covers and ying out his nightclothes. As she worked, she said softly, "I'm not afraid, Your Highness."

  Julian looked at her in surprise. "You're not?"

  "No." She straightened the pillows with careful precision. "My father always said that knowledge is its own kind of power. You have knowledge, and now you have someone you can trust." She met his gaze steadily. "Together, we're stronger than Augustus thinks."

  A slow smile spread across Julian's face. "My father says that might makes right," he replied. "But I've always believed there are other forms of strength."

  "There are," Natalie agreed. "And we'll need them all in the days ahead."

  As she withdrew to her own small chamber that night, leaving the prince to sleep, Natalie felt the weight of their new alliance settling over her. The game they pyed was dangerous—far more dangerous than she had initially understood. Yet something in Julian's quiet determination gave her courage.

  She was no longer just surviving; she was protecting someone who needed her. And in that purpose, Nathaniel Foster—hidden beneath Natalie's careful disguise—had found something worth the risk.