The days that followed passed in a blur of polished silver, endless corridors, and names Jeremy struggled to remember.
Evercrest Castle never seemed to sleep.
Before dawn, servants were already moving through the halls with baskets of fresh linens and trays of breakfast. By nightfall, musicians filled banquet rooms with melodies while nobles dawdled beneath crystal chandeliers, discussing politics and alliances.
For Jeremy, every day brought another lesson, which corridors belonged to servants, which staircases were reserved for nobility, which members of the court expected conversation, which expected silence.
By the end of his first week, he still felt hopelessly out of place. But the feeling no longer frightened him as much as it had on his first day. Perhaps because the castle itself had begun revealing pieces of its character.
He discovered a courtyard where roses climbed ancient stone walls, a quiet library wing rarely visited by anyone except scholars, a balcony overlooking the eastern valley where sunrise painted the kingdom in shades of gold and amber.
Little by little, Evercrest Castle became less intimidating.
And more enchanting.
One crisp morning, Jeremy found himself assigned to the western gardens. Of all his duties thus far, this was easily his favourite.
The royal gardens stretched across several acres behind the palace. Marble pathways wound between fountains and flowering hedges while carefully cultivated trees offered shade against the summer sun. The air smelled faintly of roses. Birdsong drifted from the branches overhead.
It felt impossible to be unhappy there.
Jeremy carried a basket filled with gardening supplies as he followed one of the winding paths – one of the rare times in days he felt at ease. Until he heard voices.
He immediately slowed.
Two noblewomen stood nearby a flowering archway. Neither had noticed him.
"…the king grows weaker every day."
Jeremy froze.
The women continued walking.
"My husband attended a council dinner last week."
"And?"
"He said several physicians have already exhausted every treatment available."
A silence followed.
When the second woman spoke again, her voice had lowered. "If the king dies before the wedding…"
Jeremy moved away before hearing the rest. The conversation lingered unpleasantly in his thoughts.
Rumours about the king's illness seemed to exist everywhere. Servants whispered about it. Nobles discussed it. Merchants gossiped about it in the city. It was as if the entire kingdom appeared to be holding its breath.
Jeremy couldn't imagine what it must feel like for Prince Kelvin. To watch his father fade while preparing to inherit an entire kingdom. The burden sounded unbearable. Great power really did come with great responsibility. And being the only successor to rule over Aragon was probably the highest of responsibilities.
*
A few minutes later, after finishing his work in the gardens, Jeremy rounded a hedge and nearly collided with someone.
Again.
This was apparently becoming a habit. Fortunately, this time no books were harmed.
"Sorry." An apology left his mouth automatically. Then he looked up.
The heir to the throne stood directly in front of him.
Jeremy blinked.
Kelvin blinked.
For one absurd moment, neither of them spoke.
Then amusement appeared in the prince's eyes. "I think we really should stop meeting like this."
Jeremy laughed despite himself. "At this point I'm beginning to suspect the castle is arranging it."
"An interesting theory." The prince glanced towards the towering hedges surrounding them. "It certainly feels large enough."
Jeremy smiled.
The effortlessness with which conversation came amazed him. It shouldn't have. Yet somehow, speaking with Kelvin never felt as intimidating as it should. Perhaps because the prince always seemed different when no one else was around. Less guarded. Less distant. More human.
The realization made Jeremy nervous for reasons he couldn't explain.
"Do you work here often?" Kelvin asked.
Jeremy lifted the basket slightly. "Only when they trust me not to get lost."
"Do they?"
"Not particularly."
That earned a genuine laugh. The sound echoed softly through the garden.
Jeremy found himself smiling in response.
For a brief while, neither of them seemed aware of titles or social standing. There was only conversation. Only laughter. Only sunlight spilling across stone pathways and flowers swaying gently in the breeze. The moment felt oddly comfortable. Dangerously comfortable.
Then a familiar voice interrupted.
"Kelvin."
The atmosphere changed immediately.
Both men turned.
Lady Elaine Rosamund Valcourt approached from the opposite path. Her lavender gown shimmered under the sunlight. Jewels sparkled at her throat. She looked regal and every bit the future queen. Elegant. Composed. Perfect.
Jeremy quickly lowered his gaze. "Lady Elaine."
To his relief, she smiled warmly. "You're one of the new servants."
"Yes, my lady."
Her attention lingered on him for a moment. Not unkindly. Merely observantly. As though she enjoyed understanding the people around her. Then she turned towards Kelvin. "The council has been looking for you."
The prince sighed. "A tragedy."
"A responsibility."
"Well, that too."
Jeremy noticed the brief exchange of smiles between them. There was affection there. History. Years of familiarity.
For the first time, the reality of their engagement felt tangible.
Of course they belonged together. A prince and his future queen. The entire kingdom expected it. Jeremy wasn't sure why the thought left an unfamiliar heaviness in his chest. Fortunately, neither seemed to notice.
Elaine's gaze shifted back towards him. "What is your name?"
"Jeremy Mercer, my lady."
Recognition flickered across her features. "Thomas Mercer's son?"
Jeremy nodded. "My father served the royal family."
"I remember him."
The answer startled him.
Elaine's expression softened. "He was highly respected."
For a moment, grief tightened around Jeremy's heart. Alongside it came pride. His father had mattered here. Even among nobility.
"Thank you, my lady."
Something warm entered her smile. Then it vanished as quickly as it appeared.
"Come, Kelvin."
The prince reluctantly straightened. Duty reclaimed him once more. Council meetings. Political discussions. Endless responsibilities. The future king returned. But before leaving, Kelvin glanced back towards Jeremy. The look lasted only a second. Yet somehow, it felt longer.
Then he was gone. Walking beside Elaine towards the palace.
Jeremy watched until both disappeared around a distant hedge. Only afterward did he realize he was staring.
Embarrassed, he quickly returned to work.
The remainder of the afternoon passed uneventfully. But his thoughts kept wandering to conversations, to smiles, to moments he shouldn't have been replaying.
*
By evening, lanterns illuminated the castle grounds. Their golden glow reflected against marble pathways while stars emerged one by one above the kingdom.
Jeremy found himself returning to the eastern balcony he had discovered earlier in the week. It had quickly become his favourite place. From there, he could see nearly all of Aragon.
The city lights shimmered below like scattered jewels. Beyond them stretched rolling hills facing a sea of moonlight. It was beautiful. Quiet. Peaceful. The sort of place where dreams felt possible.
Jeremy rested his arms against the stone railing.
For the first time since arriving at Evercrest Castle, he allowed himself to wonder what the future might hold. Not merely survival. Not merely service. Something more. Something larger. The feeling had followed him his entire life. A stubborn certainty that he was meant for more than the circumstances of his birth.
He had never understood why. Perhaps he still didn't. But standing below a sky crowded with stars, he found himself believing it more than ever.
Far above the city, moonlight washed over the towers of Evercrest Castle. And somewhere within those towers, a prince sat alone in a chamber filled with expectations, while a future queen quietly considered everything she had observed that afternoon.
Neither realized that a young servant was already beginning to leave an impression upon both of them. An impression that would soon become impossible to ignore.