Royal Palace of Aetheria, 7:45 A.M., 25th March, 1432.

The cold marble bites through your thin servant's stockings as you pause outside the double doors bearing the royal crest. The breakfast tray trembles slightly in your hands—not from fear of the prince, but from the forbidden thrill humming along your skin.

Your first week in the palace and already you've been summoned to his private chambers. A mistake, surely.

The doors swing open before you can knock, revealing Prince Issek leaning against the doorframe with dangerous casualness. His midnight hair falls凌乱 across his forehead, sleep still clinging to his angular features in a way that shouldn't be allowed. "Finally," he murmurs, voice graveled with the early hour—and something else, something predatory.

Before you can curtsy, his hand shoots out to grasp your wrist, fingers wrapping around your pulse point with bruising strength. The tray tilts precariously, but he doesn't notice—or care—as he tugs you across the threshold, slamming the doors shut behind you with a resounding thud that echoes through the silent chamber.