The journey from Solis to Vesperak had felt far longer than it truly was.

Perhaps it was because every mile placed another layer of stone between Irina and the home she had known all her life. The bright fields of Solis had long since disappeared beyond the horizon, replaced by darker forests, looming mountains, and weathered villages that carried an unfamiliar silence. Even after arriving within Vesperak's towering walls several days prior, the kingdom had yet to feel welcoming.

Everything was different.

The castle itself stood like an ancient monument carved from charcoal-colored stone, its high ceilings swallowed by shadow despite the afternoon sun filtering through narrow windows. Guards lined nearly every corridor, their polished armor catching faint glimmers of light as they stood motionless. Servants moved quietly with practiced precision, careful not to disturb the heavy stillness that seemed woven into the very halls.

For an entire week, Irina had remained little more than a guest confined to formal dinners, etiquette lessons unique to Vesperak's court, and endless reminders that her wedding day crept closer with every sunrise.

A peace treaty.

That was what everyone insisted on calling it.

As though wrapping it in prettier words somehow made it feel less like a transaction.

The wars between Solis and Vesperak had stretched across generations. Countless lives had been spent fighting over borders, rivers, and pride. Now, instead of another battle, two signatures and a marriage were expected to succeed where armies never could.

She had never been asked if she wanted any part of it.

This morning, two royal knights had arrived outside her chambers with little more than a respectful bow and a simple announcement.

Her fiancé was waiting.

Irina smoothed the front of her pale dress almost absentmindedly before following them through the winding corridors. Gold bracelets shifted softly against her wrist with each measured step, and every few moments she caught herself adjusting a pearl earring that hadn't moved in the first place.

A nervous habit.

One she wished she could stop.

The carved doors leading into the throne room stood several times taller than any person. As the knights reached them, they each grasped one of the iron handles and pulled.

The doors groaned open.

Sunlight spilled through towering stained-glass windows, scattering muted colors across the polished stone floor. At the far end of the vast chamber, beneath the banners of Vesperak's royal house, stood the person she had crossed kingdoms to marry.

Irina's blue eyes settled on them for the first time.

She knew the name.

Nothing more.

After a brief silence, she offered a small, composed curtsy befitting a princess before straightening once again.

"...So," she began, her voice calm despite the unease hidden beneath it. "I suppose introductions are long overdue."

Sleep had abandoned Irina hours ago.

No matter how many times she turned over or fluffed the mountain of pillows the servants had thoughtfully arranged, rest refused to come. The room was beautiful—larger than her chambers back in Solis, draped in rich fabrics and furnished with polished mahogany that probably cost more than some villages made in a year—but it didn't feel like hers.

It felt borrowed.

Temporary.

A room prepared for a princess who would soon no longer belong to her own kingdom.

The thought alone was enough to make her stomach twist.

With an exasperated sigh, Irina pushed herself upright, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. Moonlight filtered through the tall windows, painting pale silver across the floor. Beyond the glass, Vesperak lay almost eerily quiet. The bustling castle she had been introduced to throughout the day had settled into silence, broken only by the occasional crackle of distant torches and the faint call of the night watch somewhere beyond the walls.

If she couldn't sleep, she certainly wasn't going to spend the rest of the night staring at the ceiling.

Her gaze drifted toward the neatly folded bedsheets.

A ridiculous idea.

An absolutely terrible one.

...Which somehow made it even more appealing.

Nearly twenty minutes later, the sheets had been tied together into what she hoped resembled a rope more than a death trap. After testing each knot twice—then a third time just to soothe her nerves—she secured one end firmly around the heavy bedframe.

She paused beside the open window.

"This is either going to be incredibly clever..." she murmured under her breath, "...or the stupidest thing I've ever done."

Carefully, she eased herself over the windowsill.

The cool night air brushed against her face as she began her slow descent, gripping the knotted sheets tightly enough that her fingers quickly began to ache. The castle wall stretched beneath her, every careful movement accompanied by the quiet rustle of fabric against stone.

One knot.

Then another.

And another.

She was close enough to the ground now that she could make out individual blades of grass swaying below.

Almost there.

A breath of relief escaped her as she glanced downward—

Only to freeze.

Someone was standing there.

Partially obscured by the moonlit shadows of the castle gardens, the figure appeared completely at ease, as though wandering the grounds at one in the morning was the most natural thing in the world. They hadn't made a sound. Had they been there the entire time?

Irina's heart lurched into her throat.

Even in the darkness, there was something unmistakably familiar about them.

Not because they had met.

They hadn't.

But she had seen enough portraits, enough embroidered banners, enough carefully pointed-out paintings during her first day in Vesperak to recognize exactly who stood beneath her dangling escape rope.

Of all the people in the kingdom to witness this...

Her fiancé.

Still clinging awkwardly to the sheets several feet above the ground, Irina stared for one painfully long moment before letting out the smallest, most defeated sigh.

"...You weren't supposed to be awake."

The escape had been flawless.

For nearly five whole minutes.

Irina had waited until the castle had fallen into its usual midnight silence before putting her plan into motion. By now, tying bedsheets into a makeshift rope had become almost routine—a fact she wasn't particularly proud of. Every knot had been checked, every loose end pulled tight, and every creaking floorboard carefully avoided as she crossed her chambers.

She had even timed the changing of the guards.

Unfortunately, she had forgotten one very important detail.

Vesperak employed far more guards than Solis ever had.

She had barely reached the second-story ledge before a voice shattered the quiet.

"Princess!"

Irina squeezed her eyes shut.

"...You've got to be kidding me."

The next several minutes had devolved into an argument that accomplished absolutely nothing.

She insisted she was merely "getting some fresh air."

The guards pointed out that most people acquired fresh air through doors.

She argued that doors were overrated.

They remained entirely unconvinced.

The descent she'd spent nearly half an hour preparing ended with two royal guards escorting—though "escorting" felt like an exceptionally polite word for it—her straight back through the castle's front entrance.

The walk through the corridors was painfully quiet.

Not because the guards had nothing to say.

Quite the opposite.

Every servant they passed seemed to suddenly discover an urgent reason to look anywhere except at the princess being marched back inside after attempting to climb out of her own window. Somewhere farther down the hall, another pair of knights exchanged glances that looked suspiciously close to amusement before wisely deciding to keep their expressions neutral.

Irina, for her part, held her chin high.

If this was going to be humiliating, she refused to look embarrassed.

She was simply...deeply offended by the outcome.

The group rounded one final corner before coming to a stop outside a familiar chamber. One of the guards gave a firm knock against the heavy wooden door before pushing it open.

Only then did Irina realize where, exactly, they had decided to bring her.

Not back to her room.

Back to them.

Apparently, attempting to flee the castle a few nights before the royal wedding was important enough to warrant being delivered directly to her fiancé.

Wonderful.

Simply wonderful.

One of the guards stepped forward, offering a respectful bow before speaking.

"We sincerely apologize for the disturbance. Her Highness was discovered attempting to leave the castle grounds."

Silence settled over the room.

Irina folded her arms across her chest with all the dignity she could still salvage, refusing to look the least bit apologetic.

"...For the record," she said after a moment, her gaze fixed squarely ahead, "I was doing perfectly fine until someone decided to make it everyone's problem."