Slade’s Point of View
I hadn’t been summoned to the princess’s chambers before. Not like this. Not as an equal in a plan. When Martha opened the door for me, I expected orders — simple, direct, military. What I got instead was Patricia standing by the balcony, the night wind in her hair, her face unreadable.
A day ago she’d been a young ruler trying to carry the weight of a crown.
Tonight she looked like someone who had already accepted that weight — and everything it demanded.
“Slade,” she said, turning. “We don’t have time to waste.”
There was no hesitation in her voice. No tremor. No doubt.
Something in me adjusted without my permission — like a lock clicking into place.
“Yes, my lady.”
She didn’t pace or fidget. She didn’t fill the air with unnecessary details. She moved with t
