"I’ll go alone this time," Rosalind said, and immediately Verity’s brows creased with concern.

"No, that’s really dangerous," she objected at once, her tone firm.

"Yeah," Thalia agreed quickly, shaking her head in disapproval.

Rosalind exhaled softly as she looked between them, her expression heavy with worry. "But I don’t want to implicate you both. Who knows what might happen? I don’t want to drag you down into this if things go wrong."

Verity sighed, then stepped closer. "You must be forgetting you’re meant to be confined to this place. If you’re going to sneak out, you need someone watching your back."

Thalia nodded in agreement. "And you’re not implicating us. If something bad happens, we face it together. We already agreed on this, there’s no backing out now because of fear," she said, though beneath her steady voice was a flicker of anxiety she was trying hard to hide.

"Exactly," Verity added, and Rosalind’s tense expression softened slightly as she looked at both of them.

"Thank goodness for you two," she whispered, and without another word, they pulled each other into a brief, tight hug.

When they finally pulled apart, Rosalind straightened and spoke again, her voice quieter. "I say we go tonight. The king is still unstable and reportedly confined to his chambers. There’s no better chance than this."

"Tonight?" Thalia repeated, lifting her hand as if sealing a decision.

"Tonight," Verity and Rosalind said together, placing their hands over hers in agreement.

And with that silent pact, their decision was made.

****

Night eventually fell over the palace, swallowing the halls in darkness as the bright day dissolved into silence. Stars scattered across the sky like scattered glass, and the moon poured pale light through the windows, spilling into Rosalind’s room. She stood by her bed and fastened her boots quietly, careful not to make a sound as she prepared for what was to come.

The footman was still positioned outside her door and Rosalind could have done this the simple way, asked for permission under the excuse of a walk, but that was impossible now. She was meant to be confined, and any request would raise suspicion. So there had to be a distraction.

"I’ll distract him," Thalia’s voice echoed in her mind from earlier.

"Just be ready. Once I draw him away, you slip out," she had said. 𝕗𝚛𝚎𝚎𝐰𝗲𝗯𝗻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝕞

Then Verity had added the final step. "After that, you two will meet me down the corridor. Then we’ll head to the private gallery."

Rosalind tightened her fingers slightly at the memory, a faint smile touching her lips despite everything. It reminded her of the times she sneaked out with Rowan, of how he used to move through the palace like he belonged to its shadows, always pulling her through hidden corridors as if danger meant nothing to him. He had never feared getting caught. He had only ever looked at her like time didn’t exist when she was beside him.

Her chest tightened at the thought of him. She missed him more than anything and the fear of what she might discover in the gallery twisted quietly inside her.

Because if it was true, she didn’t know how she would survive it. All she could hope was that Rowan was still Rowan, the man she had known, the man she had fallen for.

A sudden crash outside pulled her out of her thoughts.

Her heart jumped.

"Ouch!" Thalia’s voice rang out immediately, loud and exaggerated.

Rosalind froze for a second, then understood at once.

The signal.

Thalia had fallen right outside the door, a glass now shattered on the floor, and she clutched her hand as though she had been badly injured. The cut was deliberate, and the performance was louder than necessary, but it was enough.

The footman hesitated.

For a moment, he looked toward Rosalind’s door, conflicted, before Thalia cried out again, more dramatically this time.

"Are you just going to stand there and watch?"

The footman then abandoned his post and rushed toward her.

Rosalind’s breath caught as she moved instantly, slipping her hand to the door and opening it just enough to slide out silently.

Thalia continued her act on the floor, wincing as she held up her finger. "Oh no... it’s really deep..."

"My lady, I’ll help you up," the footman said urgently, fully focused on her now.

"Please," Thalia agreed weakly, letting him assist her as he bent down beside her.

And in that exact moment, Rosalind slipped away.

She moved slowly, staying close to the wall, her steps silent as she disappeared into the dim corridor. Her heart hammered violently in her chest but she didn’t stop.

The footman continued speaking. "My lady, you should have called for a servant. It is not safe to walk carelessly like this."

"I know... I’ll be more careful," Thalia replied softly, already glancing in the direction Rosalind had gone, confirming she had made it out safely.

Rosalind turned the corner and disappeared into the palace shadows, where Verity would be waiting.

"Yes, my lady. I’ll take care of this," the footman said, and Thalia gave a small muttered thanks before quickly slipping away while he was distracted.

He bent down and carefully began cleaning the shattered glass, and once he was done, he returned to his position outside Rosalind’s door, completely unsuspecting as he still believed she was inside her room, sleeping safely and unaware of anything.

Thalia exhaled heavily as she reached the staircase where Rosalind and Verity were already waiting for her.

"That wasn’t much of a race," Rosalind muttered dryly, earning an immediate eye roll from Thalia.

"Let’s move now," Thalia said quickly, bringing them back to focus.

Rosalind nodded. "I’ll take the lead. You both follow my signal."

They immediately fell into position behind her.

Dressed in dark clothing to blend into the shadows, with their hair tied back tightly for easy movement, they truly looked like spies even though none of them were. Rosalind led, moving first and pausing whenever she needed to confirm safety, and the others followed closely behind, copying her timing. Each time she ran ahead and stopped, allowing guards to pass, they hurried to regroup with her before freezing again as she checked the surroundings.

"This is actually kind of fun," Thalia whispered under her breath.

"Shh," Verity pressed a hand to her lips instantly.

"All clear. Let’s move," Rosalind said after scanning the corridor.

They moved again, slipping through the dim hallway as carefully as possible.

Because it was night, the palace had gone quiet, but guards still patrolled with torches. Most of the lights had been extinguished, leaving only cold moonlight and flickering torch flames that moved across the stone walls like shifting shadows. The wind outside pressed faintly through the corridors, making everything feel colder and more tense.

"Stop... stop," Rosalind whispered sharply as guards were passing by.

They crashed into her back and almost made her stumble. She gasped but immediately pressed herself against the wall.

One of the guards heard the sound and started approaching.

They held their breath as the torchlight drew closer, the glowing shadow stretching across the floor. Rosalind’s fingers tightened against the wall as she watched the guard move nearer, Verity and Thalia remained completely still behind her, barely breathing.

For a moment, silence stretched unbearably long.

Then suddenly, a rat darted across the opposite side of the corridor with a sharp squeak.

The guard snapped his torch toward the sound immediately.

The light flickered violently and then shifted away from them.

"Not again," he muttered under his breath before turning and walking off in the opposite direction.

Only when his footsteps faded completely did Rosalind finally release her breath.

So did Verity and Thalia.

"Is it clear now?" Thalia whispered.

Rosalind leaned forward slightly, checking carefully. "Yes. Let’s go."

They moved quickly again, slipping through the corridor as quietly as possible, their hearts pounding with every step as they reached the back of the gallery.

Rosalind turned slightly toward Verity and gave a subtle nod, and Verity immediately understood, taking the left path as planned while Thalia stayed close beside Rosalind.

Rosalind kept close to the walls, moving silently and already calculating the guards positions in her mind. When they reached the end of the corridor, two guards stood near the entrance to the gallery, their backs turned away from the door as they conversed softly.

Rosalind signaled with her eyes.

Now.

She and Verity moved at the same time.

In one swift motion, they pulled out the prepared cloths and wrapped them tightly around the guards’ heads from behind.

The guards struggled immediately, their bodies jerking as they tried to break free, but Rosalind and Verity held firm, tightening their grip until the resistance slowed. Then, with a final forceful push, both guards were shoved down to the ground, unconscious.

"Yes," Thalia thought to herself as she watched.

Rosalind quickly bent down and retrieved the key from one of them, her fingers closing around it as it jingled in her hand.

Without wasting time, she stepped forward and unlocked the door.

It clicked open.

She turned to Verity. "You come with me. Thalia, stay outside and keep watch."

Thalia immediately frowned and lowered her voice. "Why do I have to stay out? I don’t want to miss this."

Rosalind shook her head gently. "We need someone watching. If anyone comes, you warn us immediately."

Thalia sighed in frustration but eventually gave in. "Fine."

Rosalind didn’t waste another second.

She and Verity stepped inside together while Thalia positioned herself near the unconscious guards, keeping a sharp eye on the corridor.

The gallery was rarely entered, not because it lacked importance, but because it held things the king considered private and closely guarded. Only the guards rotated through it during shifts, and Rosalind knew this well, which was exactly why she had chosen this time carefully.

And now, stepping inside, she felt her heartbeat slow for only a second before tension crept right back in again.

****

Rosalind and Verity now walked along the narrow path that stretched deep into the gallery, the air growing colder with every step. The place was silent, just as Rosalind remembered it, though she had never expected to return here again.

"This place makes me feel sick," Verity thought as her eyes swept over the unsettling displays inside glass case, human remains were preserved, bones that had clearly been there for years, and even a skull pierced through with an arrow that still looked intact.

"Me too," Rosalind murmured, shivering slightly at the sight, though she forced herself to stay focused. She reminded herself why she was here and quickly scanned the hall until her eyes landed on the area where the portrait should be.

"Verity, it’s right there," she said, hurrying forward.

But Verity had already stopped behind her.

Her attention had drifted elsewhere, toward a glass case resting slightly off to the side. Slowly, she walked toward it, her expression shifting as she read the name engraved inside.

Her breath seemed to stop completely as she reached out and placed her hand against the glass. This was her lover.

"Verity?" Rosalind called, but she didn’t respond.

Rosalind hesitated, then turned away and stepped toward the portrait mounted directly ahead of her.

The moment her eyes landed on it, everything around her seemed to quiet.

A man stared back at her from the frame. Long dark hair, a regal robe draped across his shoulders, and an expression that carried authority. Rosalind swallowed as she studied him carefully, her gaze slowly tracing his features.

Sharp brows. Narrow, piercing eyes that held the same intensity she had always seen in Rowan. Even the subtle grey within them was there, exactly as she remembered.

Her heart began to beat faster.

Her eyes moved lower to his nose, his lips, the strong structure of his jaw. It was unmistakable and yet unsettling. Though this man looked younger, and Rowan now carried stubble with shorter hair, the resemblance was undeniable.

Rosalind’s breath grew uneven as she noticed the bird resting calmly on his right shoulder.

That detail alone made her freeze.

Her mind instantly flashed back to the abandoned area, to the moment Rowan had stood with the white bird resting on his fingers as he pet it gently.

So that was why it felt familiar.

It had always been the same bird.

Her chest tightened.

There was no mistake now. No coincidence she could convince herself of. Every detail aligned too perfectly to ignore. The face, the eyes, the bird, even the authority in his expression, it all pointed to the same truth she had been circling around but refusing to accept.

He wasn’t a footman.

He was royalty.

Her hand trembled as she reached up and carefully lifted the portrait from its place on the wall.

She needed confirmation, something undeniable, wanting to search for what she already knew would be there. The name, the truth written plainly where lies couldn’t hide it.

Slowly, she turned the portrait over.

As her eyes landed on the inscription, for a moment her entire body went still as if the world itself had frozen with her.

The portrait slipped from her hands and hit the ground with a dull sound as the truth struck her like lightning...

He wasn’t even just any royalty.

He was...

King Drystan of Eryndor.

Year I of his reign.