VIVIAN’s POV
The sound of my own steps fills the marble hallway. The palace of Verloren is quiet this morning—too quiet for my liking. My heel clicks echo off the tall windows and polished pillars as I pace back and forth, arms crossed.
The Queen’s orders had been simple enough: Show our new knight around the palace. Make sure he feels welcome.
That was half an hour ago.
Now I stand here alone, watching the sunlight crawl across the floor. I hate lateness. In this palace, punctuality isn’t courtesy—it’s survival.
I’m about to send a servant to fetch him when heavy footsteps finally sound at the far end of the corridor.
Lord Dani appears, his silver armor glinting faintly beneath his dark cloak. He looks every inch the warrior the Queen described: tall, broad-shouldered, steady. His face, though… there’s something there. Something I can’t name.
And I’m not talking about his appearance. I mean, he's handsome, I can't deny. Or should I? It's not about it, anyway.
He stops before me and bows slightly. “My apologies, Lady Vivian. I seem to have lost my way. This palace is… larger than I expected.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Don’t make it a habit, Lord Dani. The Queen has little patience for delays.”
A faint smile touches his lips. “I’ll remember that.”
“See that you do.”
I turn sharply, my skirts brushing the floor as I lead the way. “Come, then. The Queen wants you familiar with every corner of Verloren’s heart. We’ll start with the training grounds.”
***
The palace unfolds around us like a map I know too well—gardens, towers, courtyards, endless staircases. As we walk, I point to each in turn, explaining their purpose, the people who fill them, the routines that keep this golden prison running.
Lord Dani listens closely. Too closely.
Most knights glance at the architecture, the grandeur, perhaps the guards. He, however, looks deeper. His eyes trace the walls, the exits, the patterns of patrols. When I mention the west wing’s restricted chambers, his gaze lingers a heartbeat too long.
“You memorize places quickly,” I say at last, glancing over my shoulder.
He meets my eyes evenly. “Habit of the job. A knight must always know his surroundings.”
“Of course,” I murmur. “Though I’ve never met one who studies them quite so thoroughly.”
“Perhaps you’ve met the wrong kind of knight.”
I allow a small smirk. “Or perhaps I’ve met too many of the right ones.”
He chuckles under his breath. “Touché, my lady.”
We step out into the courtyard. The sound of training steel echoes nearby—knights sparring under the morning sun. The scent of dust and metal fills the air.
“This is where the Queen’s soldiers practice,” I explain. “She values skill over loyalty. A man who fights well may rise quickly here.”
“Even faster if he flatters her, I imagine.”
The corner of my mouth twitches. “You’ll learn soon enough. Her favor is as sharp as her wrath.”
He nods, glancing at the men sparring in the yard. “They’re well-trained. Disciplined.”
“They have to be.” I pause, studying him. “The Queen believes a strong army makes a stronger crown.”
“And what do you believe?”
I arch a brow at him. “That my beliefs don’t matter.”
Something flickers in his eyes at that—pity, maybe. I look away before it roots.
We move again—past the horse paddocks where grooms brush down gleaming steeds, through the kitchens where servants bustle with trays of sweet bread and spiced tea, and finally into the inner halls where golden chandeliers hang like captured suns.
By the time we finish, the sun has shifted high above the courtyard.
“That concludes the tour, my lord,” I say, stopping at the base of the grand staircase. “I trust you can find your way now?”
“I believe so.”
“Good. I’d hate to have to rescue you again.”
He smirks. “I’ll try not to make that necessary.”
For a moment, our eyes meet. There’s a strange familiarity there, an echo tugging at the back of my mind. The tilt of his jaw. The steadiness in his stare. I’ve seen it before—somewhere far from here, in a place I can’t recall.
I blink it away, stepping back. “Then, if you’ll excuse me, I have duties to attend to.”
He bows slightly. “Until we meet again, Lady Vivian.”
“I’m sure we will.”
***
The inner garden is quieter than the rest of the palace. The air smells of wet stone and lilacs, and the sound of a nearby fountain soothes my frayed thoughts. I walk the cobblestone path to the back, where Alastor waits, leaning on his staff, the sunlight painting silver through his pale hair.
“Lady Vivian,” he greets softly. “You look… thoughtful.”
“I’m suspicious,” I correct. “Which is worse.”
He smiles faintly. “About whom this time?”
“The new knight.”
“Ah.” He tilts his head. “The Queen’s latest prize from the north?”
“Yes. Lord Dani.” I lower my voice. “He arrived yesterday, and she’s already having me play tour guide. I can’t tell if she wants me to test him or distract him.”
Alastor’s eyes narrow slightly. “And what do you think of him?”
“I think he’s too observant. Too calm. He doesn’t look at the palace like a visitor—he studies it. Measures it.”
“That’s what soldiers do.”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “That’s what spies do.”
The reverend studies me quietly. “You think he’s here for the King.”
“Maybe. Or for the Queen herself. She trusts too easily when a man comes bearing reputation and flattery.”
“Or perhaps she doesn’t trust him at all,” Alastor muses. “Perhaps she wants you to watch him for her.”
I frown. “Then she would’ve said so.”
“She never says anything plainly. That’s how she survives.”
I sigh, pacing near the fountain. “I don't know. Too many possibilities, too little facts. I can’t read him, Alastor. He’s polite, he listens, he smiles at the right moments—but I can’t read him. There’s something under it. Something… restrained.”
“Dangerous?”
“Not yet. But familiar.”
“Familiar how?”
I pause, trying to find words. “Like a word I’ve heard once in passing and can’t remember where.”
He hums thoughtfully. “Your instincts have saved you before. I’d trust them now.”
“I do. But I need more than instincts.”
He straightens, meeting my gaze. “Then watch him.”
“That’s your advice?”
“That’s always my advice.” His lips curl into a faint smile. “People reveal their truths when they think no one’s watching. If he’s hiding something, he’ll show it soon enough.”
I exhale slowly. “And if I’m wrong?”
“Then you’ll have wasted time learning about a harmless man. Hardly a sin.”
I glance toward the palace, the golden spires gleaming against the sky. “He’s not harmless,” I whisper. “No one who’s that careful ever is.”
Alastor’s smile fades. “Then be careful yourself.”
“I always am.”
“Vivian,” he says quietly, “curiosity is a dangerous habit for someone in your position.”
“I know.” I pull my cloak tighter. “But ignorance kills faster.”
The reverend chuckles softly, shaking his head. “You sound like a soldier.”
“Maybe I was one once,” I say absently, half-smiling.
He looks at me for a moment longer, then gestures toward the path. “Go. The Queen will notice your absence soon enough. Watch, listen, and survive. That’s all anyone can do in this palace.”
I nod. “Thank you, Alastor.”
“Always.”
***
As I walk back through the garden toward the palace, my thoughts circle like restless crows. Lord Dani of the North. A man who arrived too conveniently, who carries himself too proudly, who hides too much behind polite eyes.
The Queen trusts him—or wants to.
And I, for reasons I can’t explain, feel like I’ve crossed paths with him before.
Somewhere, once, in a place drenched in rain and danger.
I shake the thought off. Memory is a traitor, and Verloren has no room for dreams.
Still, as I pass through the marble archway and catch sight of the hall where he stood yesterday, I can’t shake the feeling that both of us are pretending.
He hides his purpose.
I hide my discovery.
And the palace, with all its mirrors and marble, hides us both.
For how long, though?