Conor stood in front of the large mirror in his room, adjusting the uniform collar for what felt like the hundredth time. The fine fabric of the guardsman’s uniform fit perfectly, tailored to his frame, yet it felt foreign, a symbol of a role he wasn’t sure he was meant to play. The dragon ring on his finger caught the light, the dragon’s eyes gleaming as if to remind him of something he couldn’t quite grasp.Dinner. This dinner was meant to be a political maneuver, a showcase by the Duke, and Conor knew it. The stakes were high, and everyone had a role to play, even him—though what that role was, he still didn’t fully understand. The thoughts of Kerrigan’s earlier words, the distance that had grown between them since they arrived at the Duke’s estate, weighed heavily on him. And now, there was the added tension of meeting a prince, someone who could very well be a potential suitor for Kerrigan.As he made his way down the long corridor to the dining hall, his thoughts churned. He had

The early morning light filtered through the sheer curtains of Kerrigan's guest quarters, casting a soft glow over the room. She sat on the edge of her bed, still in her nightgown, staring at the small wooden box in her hands. The events of the previous night played over and over in her mind—the formal dinner, the conversation with Prince Khalid, and the way Conor had watched her, his eyes filled with a mix of longing and uncertainty.She had seen the pain in his eyes, the way he had stiffened when the Duke subtly pushed him aside, treating him as little more than a bodyguard. She had felt the weight of her own words, the careful diplomacy she had employed, knowing full well that every word, every gesture was being scrutinized—not just by the Duke, but by Conor as well.But there was something else gnawing at her, something that had been tugging at the edges of her consciousness ever since she arrived at the Duke’s estate. It was a feeling she couldn’t quite place, a sense that there

Kerrigan stood by the window in her guest quarters, gazing out over the sprawling estate of her grandfather, Duke Atholl. The morning sun bathed the grounds in a soft, golden light, but her thoughts were far from the beauty of the scene before her.The past few days had been a whirlwind of political maneuvering, strained conversations, and subtle tensions. And now, as their time at the Duke's estate drew to a close, she felt the weight of it all pressing down on her.The meeting with her grandfather had been taxing, to say the least. The Duke had made it clear that he expected Kerrigan to consider her future carefully, particularly where marriage was concerned.The arrival of Prince Khalid had only added to the pressure, leaving Kerrigan feeling as though she were being pulled in a dozen different directions at once.But there was something else nagging at her, something that had been building since that fateful dinner. Conor’s silence had been palpable, and she could see the doubt an

The Duke’s study was a room steeped in history. Adorned with portraits of the Lokir lineage, each face was a reminder of the legacy Kerrigan was expected to uphold. The Duke sat behind his massive desk, his fingers steepled as he regarded Kerrigan with a measured gaze.Kerrigan stood before him, her posture straight and her expression composed, though she could feel the weight of her grandfather’s scrutiny. The lunch had been tense, filled with unspoken expectations and subtle power plays, and she knew this private meeting would be no different.“Kerrigan,” the Duke began, his voice calm but firm. Then he gestured for her to sit across from him. Once she did he began, “I’ve been thinking about your decision to visit Lokir. It’s a journey that, under normal circumstances, I would encourage. But these are not normal circumstances.”Kerrigan nodded slightly, waiting for him to continue. She had anticipated this conversation, but that didn’t make it any easier to navigate.The Duke leaned

The helicopter touched down on the sprawling lawn of the Lokir estate with a soft thud, sending a swirl of dust and fallen leaves into the air.The estate, nestled in the rolling hills of central Targu, was a testament to the Lokir family’s history—a grand mansion surrounded by acres of land, with the remnants of a once-thriving vineyard stretching out in neat rows to the west. The stone walls of the mansion were weathered by time, the ivy-covered facade adding a sense of quiet dignity to the building.The eastern edge looked out over a large lake, forest lining the edges giving the whole area a tranquil feeling of a forgotten era.As the rotors slowly came to a stop, Kerrigan stepped out of the helicopter, her gaze sweeping over the familiar landscape. The Lokir estate had been her childhood home, a place filled with fading memories of her parents and the life they had built before it was all taken away.Now, standing on the grounds again, she felt a pang of longing and sorrow, mixed