Felicia checked the children's room first thing in the morning. Windows locked. Wardrobes closed. Toys arranged where they'd left them last night. Everything normal until she walked to the inner courtyard gate.
A white chalk mark. Small. Deliberate. Right on the lock mechanism.
She hadn't made it. Hadn't touched this gate since yesterday afternoon.
Her pulse kicked hard once. Then steadied. She turned and walked to the guard post. The warrior stood at attention, his hand resting on his belt.
"Who last touched this lock?" Her voice came out sharp, cutting.
"Not me, Luna." His eyes stayed forward. Nervous.
"Don't call me that." She didn't wait for an answer. Turned. Started walking.
The corridor to Damien's office stretched long. Her footsteps echoed off stone floors. She didn't slow. Didn't hesitate.
His door appeared ahead. Closed. She pushed it open and walked straight in.
Damien looked up from papers spread across his desk. His pen stopped mid-word. "Felicia."
"Someone's tampering with the inner gates." She stopped three feet from the desk. "I need names. Everyone on duty the last two nights."
No preamble, just fact.
Damien set down his pen. Pulled open a drawer. Drew out a leather logbook. Placed it on the desk and turned it to face her. "Guard rotation." His voice stayed calm, professional. "Names listed by shift. Times marked here."
He pointed. His finger traced down columns. Clean, organized. No hesitation in showing her everything.
Felicia leaned over the desk. Her finger moved down the list. Stopped on two names. "These two." She tapped the page. "Where are they now?"
"One's on the west wall." Damien reached for the call button. "I can bring him immediately."
He pressed it. Didn't ask permission. Didn't question her judgment.
The silence stretched. Felicia stayed standing. Damien sat back in his chair. His hands rested on the armrests. Open. Not defensive.
"I won't let my children be controlled by strangers again." Her voice dropped low, dangerous. "Not ever."
Damien met her eyes. "Your fear is logical." He didn't move. Didn't reach for her. "I won't try to convince you with words."
Just that. No promises he couldn't keep.
Footsteps sounded in the corridor. Heavy boots. The door opened and a warrior stepped inside. Young, broad-shouldered, nervous energy bleeding off him.
Felicia turned. Faced him. "Where were you two nights ago?"
The warrior's eyes flickered to Damien. Back to Felicia. "East perimeter. Second shift."
"Who did you give your keys to?" Her tone stayed clipped, cold.
"I—the relief guard. Marcus." His hands curled at his sides.
"Who did you see near the inner gates?"
Damien stood but didn't move closer. Didn't position himself between them. Just stood there. Silent. Letting her lead.
The warrior's jaw worked. "No one. I didn't go near the inner gates."
Felicia's eyes narrowed. "If you're lying, I'll demand punishment."
No emotion. Just fact. Cold. Final.
Damien's voice cut in. Level, controlled. "Truth will reduce consequences." He didn't raise his voice. Didn't threaten. "But lies make everything worse."
The warrior swallowed. His throat worked. "I saw someone. Didn't recognize them. Near the courtyard entrance."
Felicia held his gaze. "When?"
"Around midnight." He shifted his weight. "They moved fast. Disappeared before I could follow."
She studied him. The sweat on his forehead. The way his fingers twitched. Truth or well-practiced lie. Hard to tell.
"Dismissed." She didn't look at Damien. "But you stay available for more questions."
The warrior nodded fast. Backed out. The door closed behind him.
Felicia turned to Damien. "I want the guard rotation changed. Temporarily. My wing only."
"Done." No negotiation. No bargaining.
His voice dropped quieter. "Do you want to personally approve the new guards?"
Felicia looked at him. Really looked. His expression stayed open. Waiting. Not pushing. Not assuming.
"Yes." The word came out firm, clear.
She held his gaze. Didn't look away. Something passed between them. Acknowledgment. Agreement. The first real "we work together."
Damien nodded once. "I'll bring you the list by evening."
He didn't ask for anything in return. Didn't request access or time or consideration. Just accepted her terms.
Felicia walked to the door. Her hand closed on the handle. She pulled it open. Started to step through.
Then stopped. Her shoulders tensed. She turned back.
"Don't hide suspects from me." Short. Direct.
Damien's eyes stayed locked on hers. "I won't hide them."
No hesitation. No calculation. Just truth.
Felicia's grip on the door handle loosened. Her shoulders dropped. Not much. Half an inch. But visible. Real.
She walked out. Didn't look back. Her footsteps carried her down the corridor toward the children's wing. Steady. Controlled. But something in her chest felt lighter.
The tension that had been living in her spine—sharp, constant—eased. Not gone. Not even close. But less.
He'd given her what she needed. Control. Information. Partnership without strings.
She reached the children's door. Stopped. Her hand pressed flat against the wood. Her breathing came easier. Deeper.
Inside, she could hear Danny talking to Max. Something about blocks. Building a castle. Normal sounds. Safe sounds.
Her throat tightened. Not fear. Something else. Something dangerous and unnamed that made her ribs ache.
She'd looked Damien in the eyes and said yes. Had accepted working together. Had let him see her vulnerability—that fear for her children—and he hadn't weaponized it.
That terrified her more than any chalk mark. More than any threat. Because it meant the walls she'd built so carefully were cracking. And she didn't know how to stop it.
Or if she wanted to.
Her hand dropped from the door. She pushed it open. Stepped inside. Danny and Max looked up, smiling.
She smiled back. Automatic. Protective. But inside, her chest felt too full. Too tight. Too aware of the man down the hall who'd just proven himself in the smallest, most devastating way.
By simply keeping his word.