I watched her make another note, her handwriting precise. My chest overflow with love.
This was partnership, one built on trust and genuine understanding rather than manipulation disguised as help.
I couldn’t stop myself from comparing Sasha’s behavior to my mother’s. She’d used deception to manipulate me,convinced she knew better than anyone else what I needed. Sasha simply stood beside me, offering her strength when mine fell short, trusting me to do the same for her.
“What are you thinking?” she asked softly, not looking up from her notes.
“That I’m grateful you’re here.” I linked my fingers through hers under the blanket. “This feels right in a way nothing else has.”
Her smile flickered in the shadows. “Even hiding in a potting shed watching for saboteurs?”
“Especially then.”
Was I being selfish, like my father, for wanting personal happiness while my court faced a true threat? The thought dissolved almost as quickly as it formed. Sasha’s presence didn’t distract me from my duties. It sharpened my focus and gave me strength to face challenges I might’ve struggled with by myself.
Being with her made me a better king, not a worse one.
Sasha straightened, squinting out the window.
“Savory says there’s nothing suspicious yet. Just Lord Primrose and Lady Daphnie taking an evening stroll through the gardens.” Her lips twitched. “Apparently they’re composing poetry about moonlight and eternal devotion.”
My smile rose. “Of course they are.”
Time stretched. My legs cramped, and I shifted again, accidentally jostling Sasha’s notebook.
“Sorry,” I whispered.
“It’s fine.” She leaned closer. “Though if we have to do this much longer, we might need to?—”
She stopped, her body going rigid.
“What is it?”
Another pause follows while Savory communicatedsomething. Then Sasha’s hand tightened on mine. “Someone’s approaching the greenhouse. They’re moving carefully, staying in the shadows.”
My pulse kicked up. I leaned forward, peering through the window as a figure emerged from behind the ornamental hedge. They glanced back over their shoulder before hurrying toward the greenhouse entrance.
“Can Savory see who it is?” I asked.
Sasha’s eyes had gone distant as she focused on her companion’s observations. “She’s getting closer… She says…” Her voice dropped to barely above a breath. “It’s Lord Turren.”
I blinked, certain I’d misheard. “That can’t be right.”
“She’s sure. Purple hair, lavender jacket.”
Of all the court members I’d suspected, Turren had never made the list. He was vain, self-absorbed, occasionally ridiculous, but harmful? The man spent more time worrying about his reflection than anything else in the world.
Through the window, I watched the figure reach the greenhouse door. No theatrical flourish and no pause to check his appearance in any reflective surface. Just purposeful movement completely at odds with everything I knew about Lord Turren’s personality.
Magic flared briefly around his hands as he unlocked the door.
“Why sneak?” Sasha whispered.
Turren disappeared inside, and the door swung shut behind him.
I looked at Sasha. “Let’s go.”
We left the shed and rushed toward the greenhouse, arriving in time to see Lord Turren’s hands lift and the same blue-white glow intensify.
