“Report,” Skylar demanded, her voice sharp with sudden urgency. She welcomed the distraction, pushing aside her conflicting emotions to focus on the immediate threat.

The Captain’s eyes darted between Skylar and Arye, his scarred face twisted with concern. “This morning, our spies saw some of them disguised as civilians crossing it. Over fifty. They’re trying to be subtle, but it’s clear they’re up to something.”

The room erupted into chaos as the other advisors rushed back in, shouting over each other as they crowded around the map. Skylar felt her world narrow, focusing solely on the tactical problem at hand. This, at least, she knew how to handle.

“We need to mobilize our troops immediately,” she said, her words cutting through the din. Her mind was already racing, calculating troop movements and potential strategies. “Showingthem our military strength might make them think twice about whatever they’re planning.”

“No,” Arye interrupted, eyes blazing with confidence. “We wait.”

“Wait?” Captain Knox sputtered, his face reddening further. A vein pulsed visibly at his temple. “Your Highness, with all due respect?—”

“I said we wait,” Arye repeated, his tone brooking no argument. “They won’t mobilize all their troops as long as we have their princess. The Thousand-Year King arrives soon. We need his support before we start a war.”

“You want to crush them with combined forces?” Skylar asked, studying Arye’s face intently. His eyes held a chilling intensity that echoed the King’s calculating nature, sending a shiver down her spine.

“I do.”

Skylar frowned, her tactical mind warring with her loyalty to Arye. “Arye, that’s a huge gamble. If Thorncrest continues crossing the borders over weeks, maybe planning another assassination attempt or?—”

“Then we’ll deal with it,” Arye cut her off. His eyes locked onto hers, and for a moment, Skylar saw something there—a flicker of vulnerability. “Trust me. Please.”

The plea, so casual in front of the others, sent warmth spreading through her. She wanted to argue, to push back against what seemed like a foolish plan. But she couldn’t.

“As you wish, Your Highness,” she said finally, ignoring the shocked looks from the other advisors.

As the meeting dissolved into frantic preparations, Skylar found herself alone with Arye once more. He dismissed the guards with a curt nod. The heavy oak door shut with a soft thud, muffling the sounds from the corridor beyond. It was a strangefeeling, not unusual for them to talk in privacy, but now… now everything felt different.

Arye moved to the window and opened it, his back to her as he gazed out at the palace gardens. The scent of roses drifted in on the breeze, and Skylar was suddenly, painfully reminded of the night before—of rain-soaked skin and desperate kisses. The memory was so vivid she could almost taste the raindrops on her lips, feel the heat of his body against hers.

“Arye,” she began, her tone soft, uncertain. “I wanted to apologize. For last week?—”

“It’s fine,” Arye interrupted her, his back still turned. “You have your responsibilities as Duke. We all have our roles to play.”

She hesitated. “Well, speaking of responsibilities,” Skylar took a step closer, the tension between them palpable. “I heard about your impending marriage.”

Arye’s shoulders stiffened visibly, his hands clenching into fists at his sides before he closed the window again. “That marriage won’t happen.”

“Oh.” Skylar blinked, surprised by the vehemence in his voice. Her heart leapt at his words, even as her mind cautioned against hope. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed. It’s just… I know I spoke harshly about duty and responsibility before. I didn’t realize how much you were struggling with all of this.”

Arye sighed, a heavy sound that seemed to carry the weight of the world. He turned to face her, and Skylar was struck by the weariness in his eyes. “You truly are the only one who understands me.”

The intimacy of the moment set her heart racing. She found herself admiring his features, remembering how those same features had looked, twisted with passion. Her cheeks felt hot at the memory, and she quickly averted her gaze.

“Sky,” Arye’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. “What do you think about me becoming king?”

She frowned, confused. “You’ve always been meant to be. It’s your birthright.”

A smirk played at the corners of his mouth as he leaned against the window frame, his arms casually crossed in front of his chest. The look he gave her made her blood run cold, reminding her of his darker side. “I mean, what if I were to ascend to the throne… earlier than planned?”

Skylar blinked rapidly, utterly bewildered, unable to process what he was suggesting. “You can’t possibly…”

“And why not?” he asked, his tone playful but with an underlying edge.

“Because it’s not right!” Skylar insisted, glancing nervously at the door, half-expecting the guards to burst in at any moment.

Arye’s smirk widened. “I’m tired of doing what’s right, Sky.”

“You can’t talk like this. If anyone were to hear?—”