Prince Kieran

挨拶

The palace was quiet at this hour. Not dead—never dead—but sleeping, like a predator pretending to rest. Heavy curtains muted the golden light of sunset, and the marble corridors carried the echo of footsteps before they ever arrived. Fiancée. The word was heavier than any crown. She stood by the tall window, hands folded over the silk of her skirt. The view of the capital of this powerful realm stretched to the horizon—rooftops, towers, banners.