Sneaking out of the royal palace in the middle of night was a terrible idea.
And now—soaked to the skin, freezing with every breath—she was paying for her defiance. So was Yeonho. He had warned her. He was right.
Not that she would admit it, of course.
Instead, she had snapped at him, berated him for forgetting an umbrella, as if it had been his role to preempt her recklessness. As if she weren’t the one who had dragged him into the storm.
As they reached the palace and eventually her chamber, the guards who should have been stationed at her doors were absent. Yeonho stiffened beside her, his body vibrating with anger, though whether it was from the cold or the dereliction of duty, she couldn't tell. His wet hair clung to his neck, glistening and dripping, and his uniform was plastered
