A week had passed since the day Ella first introduced Damian—though his true name was Darios—to the palace. The corridors of the compound, usually filled with the hushed bustle of servants and courtiers, now carried an undercurrent of secret excitement. That very afternoon, under the fading glow of the late sun, Ella had led him through a series of narrow hallways to the staff quarters—a modest but tidy set of rooms tucked away from the splendor of the royal apartments.
“Here we are,” Ella said with a smile as she unlocked the door to a small room adorned with plain wooden furniture and a single narrow window. The room, though sparse, had an air of humble dignity that suited its occupant perfectly. She stepped aside, gesturing for Damian to enter.
Damian—whose striking golden-brown curls
