Lumina sat cross-legged on the small couch, her dical scroll spread across her lap. The candle on the table burned low, its warm light painting soft gold across her face.
Her fingers traced the text as though committing it to mory. Every line about rare poisons and antidotes felt like a thread she had to cling to because if she let go, she might lose more than her own life.
She didn’t even notice when Ashen shifted on the bed behind her, his gaze fixed on her figure.
"Hey," his voice cut gently through the quiet, low and hoarse from sleep. "You should sleep."
She jumped slightly, quickly rolling up the scroll as her head snapped toward him.
"You... you are awake?"
He was sitting up now, one arm resting lazily on his knee. His hair was mussed from sleep, his shirt loose around his shoulders, but his eyes, those dark, were very much awake.
"You really think I could sleep when my wife slips out of bed like a thief?" he teased softly, though his gaze never left her.
Her lips curved into the faintest smile, but she didn’t answer.
He had watched her leave the bed earlier, her bare feet silent against the cold floor as she padded toward the small couch.
He had seen the way she handled the scroll desperately and sothing inside him twisted.
"Is there sothing you’re hiding from ?" His voice was calm, but there was no mistaking the tone behind the question.
She quickly shook her head. "Just trying to learn..."
"About poison? Or maybe... antidotes?"
Her head whipped up toward him, startled. "What do you an?"
He rose from the bed in one fluid motion, crossing the room until he was standing before her.
The glow of the candle caught on the edge of his jaw, casting shadows that made him look both dangerous and heartbreakingly beautiful.
"My wife has a habit of hiding things from ," he said slowly, crouching in front of her until they were almost eye level. "Who knows if she still carries the poison her dear father gifted her?"
She glanced in his direction for several seconds, trying to understand how his expression would be on his face for anger but finding only sothing far more complicated.
Then, without warning, she took his hands. His skin was warm against hers, grounding her in the mont.
For a second, he just stared at this tiny, stubborn woman who looked so fragile but carried storms in her chest and his heart ached.
She suddenly smacked his hands away, her lips curving into a playful pout. Tilting her head up, she stretched her arms out toward him.
"Carry ," she mumbled, her voice soft but commanding.
His lips curved into a slow smile. "For a princess acting so spoiled right now... how did you sleep peacefully for two nights without by your side?"
She pouted harder, refusing to answer, and he gave in with a low chuckle. In one smooth motion, he scooped her up, feeling her body relax against him.
He turned toward the bed, but she wriggled in his arms.
"I want to feel the fresh air," she whispered, resting her head against his chest.
"It’s the middle of the night, my lady," he murmured.
"Please..." she breathed, her voice soft as silk.
He didn’t argue. Without another word, he carried her out of the chamber. The hallways were silent, the whole wing of the palace asleep.
He found a quiet spot on the outer terrace, where moonlight shone on the ground in silver. Carefully, he set her down on the carved stone bench, then sat beside her.
The night air was cool, but she didn’t shiver. Instead, she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder and closing her glowing eyes.
For a while, there was only silence her breathing soft, his presence steady beside her. But the unease gnawed at her chest until she couldn’t hold it anymore. She sighed deeply.
He looked down at her. "What is making my lady so quiet?"
She shook her head. "I just... wanted the fresh air. I couldn’t sleep."
His lips quivered, though his eyes softened. "You are worried about moving your plan forward, aren’t you?"
Her body went rigid. Slowly, she raised her head, turning those strange, glowing eyes toward his since she wasn’t using her blindfold.
"Would you help make it happen?" she asked.
He smiled faintly at her directness. "That position belongs to the crown prince and besides, the whole realm hates ."
"You could make them like you, Ashen," she said softly.
He chuckled under his breath. "Ever wondered why they call the Cursed Prince?"
"I don’t need to wonder," she replied without hesitation. That made him pause, really look at her.
"Wow," he murmured. "My lady, sotis I wonder what position you would be holding if you weren’t blind."
She frowned, confused by his sudden words.
"You are overestimating ," she whispered.
"Never," he said with quiet conviction.
"If anything, you underestimate yourself. You pushed into the palace within days of arriving here. No one has ever been able to convince to work there. No one."
She stiffened, his words sinking into her.
"So..." she said slowly, "you were the one who never wanted to work in the palace?"
He smiled faintly. "The whole place hated . It never made my father hate , though. He just played along to keep his plans intact."
Her brows drew together. "What?"
"I am my father’s son. He might act like he despises , but he doesn’t."
"And the queen?" she asked softly. "She’s your mother, isn’t she?"
He didn’t answer imdiately. Instead, he leaned down and pressed a slow kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering there.
"Yes," he said at last.
"Then why does she hate you so much?"
He shrugged one shoulder, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "I don’t know. Maybe because I am more handso." She swatted at his chest.
"Ashen."
His smile faded slightly, his eyes darkening. "I don’t really know," he admitted. "And I don’t want to. I stopped looking for her love a long ti ago."
"Why?"
He looked down at her again, and this ti his smile was softer, almost vulnerable.
"Because ever since I found love in soone, I have stopped looking anywhere else." Her breath caught.
He tilted his head and kissed her lips, slow and unhurried this ti. When he drew back, she was smiling faintly.
"You make do countless things I never planned to do," he murmured, brushing a strand of her hair back from her face.
She rested her head against his shoulder, her arms sliding around his arm as she snuggled close.
"You wanted fresh air," he teased softly, "yet you are afraid of the cold."
"Shut up," she mumbled.
He chuckled, pulling his robe loose and draping it over her shoulders.
"Then let keep you warm," he said quietly and she didn’t argue this ti.
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