My first instinct was to tend to Mirea.
I approached murmuring words of comfort, but she did not seem to hear. Her head remained tucked firmly between her knees, untidy hair spilling over them in golden curls.
When I touched Mirea, she jerked up, her once mirthful eyes full of tears. She flung her arms around me in a clumsy hug and just as quickly let go before shoving me aside and fleeing down the stairs.
I pushed myself upright and got to my feet, preparing to go after her. The storage room was small, so when I stood, I found myself uncomfortably close to… the guard. They were still here.
They were taller than me, I had to crane my neck to look at them properly. Standing this close to them, I could get a better look at their face, even though they still wore their mask. There was a scar on their slightly crooked nose, a faint gash that cut across their pale face, and their eyes weren't black at all, just a deep brown. They held my questioning gaze without wavering.
Their eyebrows lifted slightly.
I blinked, embarrassed, realising that I had been staring at them for too long. Murmuring an apology, I squeezed my way out of the room.
I made it halfway down the stairs before I heard the sound of booted feet behind me.
Oh, Hells. Mirea and I were in trouble. I was thinking of how much more trouble I'd be in if I decided to start running when I heard them shout.
'My Lady!'
I braced myself, turning. The guard was holding something in their bare hands.
It was the tiara. They had taken off their gloves to carry it; the circlet of metal looked so small in those rough, calloused hands. When I tried to take it, my fingers brushed against theirs. Instead of letting go, they gently tugged the crown and me closer to their chest.
Warmth rose to my face.
'I am sorry, My Lady,' the guard said, their dark eyes piercing mine. 'You dropped this.'
A second passed. It felt like eternity.
And the guard let go. I clung onto Mirea's crown like my life depending on it, and to be fair, it probably did, then I blurted, 'Wh-what is your name?'
They hesitated before saying, 'Shen, My Lady.'
'Thank you, Shen.' Why did I sound so out of breath? I turned and ran.
When I was sure I had put enough distance between me and the grand hall. I ducked into a quiet corridor and pressed my hands against my cheeks. They were warm, flushed. My heart hammered in my chest.
'Stop,' I whispered to myself, patting my cheeks. 'Calm down, Idynn. It was just a guard, it doesn't mean anything. Calm down!'
I stayed there, taking deep breaths until my heart stopped feeling like it would explode from my chest, then I went to search for the Princess. I'd blindly run away earlier, so now I was in an empty, unfamiliar wing of the castle.
I didn't encounter a single soul till I made my way down the winding halls, closer to the hustle and bustle of the central area, and suddenly, I heard someone speak from a room next to me. The gilded doors were ajar, so I crept closer.
'Congratulations, Your Highness! Never thought I would see the day.'
A voice replied, 'I must still send word to my father.'
It was the Prince! Of course, he and his retinue would have to stay in the castle until the wedding. I held my breath and continued to listen.
'Do you know what she looks like? Will you like her?' This voice was light and teasing. I heard a faint rustle.
'She was not in the throne room. Stay off my sheets, please, they are clean.'
They were talking about Mirea.
'And, no. Does it matter how I feel about her? This is a marriage of convenience, just for the war.'
The Winter Prince, cold as expected. I snuck closer but my foot nudged the door and it creaked open slightly.
'What was that?'
Oh, no! I ducked under a low table by the wall, pressing myself against it and hoping I was out of sight. Someone was coming.
A pair of black leather boots stopped just shy of my hiding place. A white cloak with black and gold patterns swept around it—the Prince himself. At this distance, I could see that the designs were of snarling dragons locked in a battle with cat-like creatures. What would the Prince do if he caught me? I thought of the chieftain, his face contorted in pain whilst covered in blood, and shuddered.
Something worse, surely.
'Must have been the wind,' came the murmur.
Then the cloak and boots swept out of sight. The door shut with a click, and I heaved a sigh of relief.