Cassie spent the night turning the cryptic note over in her hands, its message weighing heavily in her thoughts. Not everyone in the palace is your enemy. The words were more unsettling than comforting, leaving her to wonder who had sent it—and why.

  Every step in the palace felt more precarious now, every glance a potential trap.

  By morning, whispers of a public court gathering rippled through the halls, pulling her from her thoughts. The event had been announced without warning, the kind of abrupt summons that sent staff into a flurry of activity.

  Servants scurried through corridors, arms laden with linens and trays, while maids whispered about which nobles would attend and what political games might play out.

  Cassie adjusted her apron, forcing her mind to focus as she followed the others into the grand hall. Whatever this event was, it would only deepen the tension simmering beneath the palace’s surface.

  The court event unfolded with its usual layers of grandeur and concealed tension. Cassie kept to the edges of the grand hall, her steps quiet as she wove through the bustling crowd.

  Nobles drifted like painted specters beneath towering chandeliers, their silks and jewels catching the light in fleeting glimmers. Servants hovered near the walls, their movements subdued yet efficient, while the air buzzed with murmurs of alliance and betrayal.

  Cassie focused on her task, her fingers brushing against the silver goblet she carried to ensure it stayed balanced. She kept her head bowed, her expression neutral, every movement deliberate. But even as she feigned invisibility, her senses remained sharp, cataloging every stray glance and half-heard whisper.

  It was then she noticed him.

  Prince Dietrich stood at the far end of the room, his lean figure outlined against the luxurious backdrop of rich velvet drapes and gleaming polished marble. His smile was easy, charming—too charming—as he engaged a cluster of courtiers in lively conversation. His blond hair, slightly tousled, caught the flickering light, and his emerald-green eyes seemed to glitter with perpetual amusement.

  But it wasn’t his charm that set Cassie on edge. It was his gaze.

  He was watching her.

  Not openly, of course. His eyes flicked between the courtiers as he spoke, but every so often, they darted toward her, sharp and calculating beneath the facade of warmth.

  Cassie suppressed the urge to stiffen. She adjusted her grip on the goblet, turning her attention back to the table she was tending. Let him watch, she thought. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of flinching.

  The corridors were quieter later that evening, the crowd thinning as the court event wound down. Cassie made her way back toward the east wing, her pace steady, her ears tuned to the faint echoes of distant voices. The stone walls loomed high on either side, their cool surface reflecting the torchlight in muted glints.

  She was halfway down the corridor when a shadow shifted at the edge of her vision.

  “Good evening,” a voice drawled, smooth and unhurried.

  Cassie stopped, her fingers twitching instinctively toward the hem of her apron. She turned slowly, her gaze landing on Prince Dietrich as he stepped out of the shadows with an almost feline grace.

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  “My lord,” she said evenly, inclining her head just enough to be polite.

  Dietrich’s smile widened. He moved closer, his hands clasped behind his back, his posture deceptively casual. “I hope I didn’t startle you.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “Good.” His tone was light, but there was a weight beneath it, a thread of intent woven through his words. He stopped a few paces away, his head tilting slightly as he regarded her.

  “You’re one of the new maids, aren’t you?”

  Cassie met his gaze briefly before lowering her eyes. “Yes, my lord.”

  “Hmm.” He let the word hang in the air, his smile softening into something more curious. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced. Prince Dietrich, though I suspect you already know that.”

  She nodded, saying nothing.

  “And you are…?”

  “Cassandra, my lord.”

  “Cassandra,” he repeated, as though tasting the weight of her name. “A lovely name for someone so… capable.”

  There it was—that edge, barely concealed beneath the warmth of his voice. Cassie’s jaw tightened, but she kept her expression carefully neutral.

  “I’ve heard whispers about you,” Dietrich continued, his gaze sharpening. “It seems you’ve had an eventful few days.”

  “I wouldn’t know, my lord,” she said, her tone measured. “I keep to my duties.”

  “Do you?” His smile deepened, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “How refreshing. Most people in this palace can’t help but let their ambitions show.”

  Cassie said nothing. The silence stretched, but Dietrich seemed unbothered. He shifted slightly, his posture loose but deliberate, as though testing her reaction.

  “I must admit,” he said after a moment, “I’m curious. That little incident with Lady Esther—how did it feel to stand your ground?”

  Her pulse quickened, but she kept her voice steady. “I’m afraid I don’t understand, my lord.”

  “Oh, come now.” He laughed softly, a sound that sent a prickle of unease down her spine. “Surely you know what people are saying. You stood up to the future queen. That takes… nerve.”

  “I did what I thought was right,” she said carefully.

  “And what was right, in your opinion?” Dietrich’s gaze bore into her, his smile never wavering.

  Cassie hesitated, weighing her words. “I serve the palace, my lord. Nothing more.”

  For a moment, Dietrich said nothing. Then he stepped back, his laughter light but sharp. “Of course you do. How noble.”

  He turned as if to leave but paused, his head tilting in thought. “You’re an interesting one, Cassandra. I think we’ll speak again soon.”

  Cassie waited until his footsteps faded before allowing herself to exhale.

  Over the following days, Dietrich’s presence became a constant. He appeared at odd intervals, always when Cassie least expected him. Once in the kitchens, where he lingered by the hearth under the pretense of warming his hands. Another time in the garden, where he strolled leisurely past her as she trimmed the hedges.

  The staff began to notice.

  “Do you think he fancies her?” a maid whispered one afternoon, her voice barely audible over the clatter of dishes.

  “Doubt it,” another replied. “Prince Dietrich doesn’t fancy anyone. He’s playing a game.”

  Cassie ignored the gossip, focusing instead on maintaining her routine. But she couldn’t ignore the prince himself. His charm was disarming, his wit sharp, and his persistence unsettling.

  It wasn’t until the fifth encounter—this time in the dim quiet of the east wing—that Dietrich made his intentions clear.

  “You’re a difficult one to pin down,” he said, leaning casually against the doorframe as she sorted linens.

  Cassie didn’t look up. “I have work to do, my lord.”

  “Work,” he echoed, his tone light. “Always so diligent. But surely you’ve noticed how dangerous diligence can be in a place like this.”

  Her hands paused briefly before resuming their task. “I don’t follow.”

  Dietrich stepped closer, his voice dropping just enough to draw her full attention. “This palace is a web, Cassandra. Everyone is caught in it, whether they realize it or not. And you… well, let’s just say you’re in a very precarious position.”

  Cassie straightened, meeting his gaze. “Is that a threat, my lord?”

  “Not at all.” His smile returned, but his eyes remained cold. “It’s an observation. One I’d like to help you with.”

  “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  Dietrich sighed, his expression turning almost pitying. “Don’t play coy. I can offer you protection—real protection. But in exchange, I need something from you.”

  “And what might that be?”

  “Insight,” he said simply. “Into my dear brother’s activities.”

  Cassie’s grip on the linens tightened. She forced herself to remain calm. “I’m afraid I wouldn’t know anything useful, my lord.”

  Dietrich’s smile faltered briefly, replaced by a flicker of frustration. “You may think you’re safe, Cassandra, but in this palace, even shadows have eyes.”

  He straightened, his expression smoothing back into effortless charm. “Think about it.”