Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

This tale was never meant to be told.

It was written to vanish into the endless, boundless thing that is Time. A story people find blasphemous, dark, offensive even. It is sad that a tale of true love is perceived as such. This story, when first told hundreds of years after it happened in the Third Era, was met with horror and disgust. Attributed to a twisted imagination. A forbidden love became a forbidden story.

Now that I have your attention, let me tell you the tale. Let me carry on their memory.

No filters, no lies. Just the sad truth.

Perhaps you're listening to this, wondering how someone could be so cruel as to fabricate such a story. Perhaps you're reading it under the impression that it is nothing other than dark fiction. Interpret what you will. My duty is simply to relate it to you despite the consequences. Whether or not you burn these pages in the end. Despite what you may think of the end. For such a story was never destined to end well.

We are running out of time, so let us begin.

A princess, not scorned, but not loved, either. Someone who has never felt love as it is truly, who has been surrounded by crushing expectations and vipers since she was pushed into the arms of her adoptive parents who wished her to carry their throne.

An assassin. The illegitimate son of a lord and a maid. His father was his mother's tormentor. And he will become the king's when his father begins to train him. No choices, no way to alter his fate. Not even when he is called on to dispose of our princess.

An assassin of the enemy and a princess. A wolf and a fox. Inexplicably for each other. Inequitably kept away from each other.

He couldn't live with her. But he could live for her.

She was his mystery. He was her answer.

༺♕༻

Chapter Text

𝐀𝐓𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐒, 𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐀

𝟑𝟗𝟖𝟗 𝐂𝐄

SOPHIE ELIZABETH FOSTER GRIMACED AS she glanced down at her troops.

"Number 89, I see you over there! Speed up, this isn't cutting it."

Number 89–a teenager called Tam, with silver bangs falling into his eyes—scowled right back at her as he resumed practice with more intensity just to spite her. He's get back at her later, she knew this—even though she was a princess and he was a soldier, she had a tendency to form the most unlikely friendships, and Tam was one of them.

Though that was not something she should have been thinking about.

At this stage, they'd never be ready for war—should it come to that. Her grip tightened around the table, whitening her knuckles. She didn't even want to consider the only other option they had.

Prince Fitzroy. He was the dream of every girl under his kingdom's rule—and Sophie knew many girls within her own kingdom who fanatized about him too.

So of course he just had to pick the one girl who couldn't love him back.

Sure, she was attracted to him. No girl wouldn't be. With his broad shoulders and dark hair that swept across his forehead, drawing attention to his startling teal eyes, he was the definition of handsome.

She could still picture his earnest gaze as he asked her to do him an honor by courting him, and she, much against her will, had agreed.

Not because she wanted to lead him on.

But because she hoped that she could grow to love him.

It would make everything so much easier. No war, no dead citizens, two peaceful kingdoms ruling together and leaning on each other.

But of course her stupid heart refused to listen to logic. No matter how much he kissed her, how many gifts he presented, it still refused to feel nothing other than a silly girlish flutter.

She knew she was being ridiculous. She was a princess, after all. She would take over the throne one day. She would carry her parents' legacy on.

She needed the best alliances possible to do that—not let love get in the way of things.

Love.

What a cruel emotion—hardly ever convenient or directed towards the right person.

Her brain told her she should marry the prince: it'd be easy that way, pleasing everyone and maintaining the most stability between their kingdoms then there had been in years. After all, the fact that his son was ridiculously enamored with Sophie was the only reason King Alden wasn't declaring war.

But in her heart—her foolish, reckless, heart—she knew she was incapable of ever loving him the way he loved her. And she couldn't do that to him.

Not Fitz.

She still remembered the day they had been strolling through the sunlit meadow when he first told her, in an adorably shy voice, to call him Fitz.

And his entire face had lit up when she agreed.

Her heart ached as she thought of how she was betraying him, letting him think she loved him. But it wasn't really her fault her emotions refused to comply, that her heart refused to feel anything when he showed up bearing gifts.

Sophie knew her true love was out there somewhere.

But she also knew it wasn't Fitz.

She dreaded the day she'd have to tell him that, see all the hurt and betrayal and anger on his face, harboring the war that would tear their kingdoms apart.

It wasn't fair that a stupid relationship could cost so many lives.

Or maybe she'd marry him to save herself—selfish as that may be...

"Your Majesty?" Linh's voice snapped her out of her stupor. The pretty maid nervously twirled her silver tipped hair around her finger. She'd come to the palace with her brother, Tam, seeking employment as a maid. She and Sophie had been inseparable since.

Which was why Sophie rolled her eyes and said, "How many times do I have to tell you to call me Sophie?"

Linh's mouth twitched. "That would not be appropriate at this time."

"Why, what's the big occasion?" Though Sophie was teasing, she saw Linh wince. "Linh," she said gently, touching her arm, "what's wrong?"

Linh sighed. "Her Majesty Queen Edaline has requested an audience with you. It's urgent and requires your attention—immediately."

"But the supervision—"

"Lord Dex will take over that. Quick—I fear we don't have much time left."

Chapter Text

SOPHIE GATHERED HERSELF TOGETHER, FOLLOWING LINH out of the supervisor's chamber and nodding quickly at Lord Dexter as he walked in as her replacement.

She didn't envy the troops—Lord Dex may have looked innocent with the deepest dimples, but he had claws he flashed at arguably the most inopportune times.

"Do you know what this is about?" she asked her friend, keeping her focus on what really mattered. Hundreds of theories were thundering through her head like a rampaging T-Rex, but she was trying her hardest to let her face remain impassive. Whether or not she was succeeding, she didn't know.

"Queen Edaline did not inform me as to what this is about—though I won't be surprised if it has to do with the prince."

Her mouth twitched like she was teasing.

Sophie rolled her eyes. "Good stars. Is he the only thing anyone wants to talk about to me? Why are you so obsessed with him anyway?"

"How can you not be?" she swooned. "He's so...so..."

"Entitled? Annoying? Obsessive?" Sophie suggested, though she honestly felt a little bad about it. Fitz wasn't any of those things—perhaps he had a short temper, perhaps he was a little paranoid and clingy, but he wasn't a bad person.

Linh glared at her.

Sophie rolled her eyes. "Oh no, will I face a death match now? I was joking."

"I hope you were," Linh told her, pushing open the door to the throne room. Sophie's mother sat there, on the appropriate throne for her status. The corners of her blissfully naïve turquoise eyes crinkled with her smile upon spotting Sophie.

Linh curtsied. "Your Majesty."

The queen waved her hand. "Thank you, Linh. You may leave."

Linh gave Sophie a fleeting smile before gracefully turning on her heel and leaving the room.

Also leaving Sophie and her mother very, very, alone.

✦❘༻☆༺❘✦

"MY DARLING," SOPHIE'S MOTHER MURMURED, LOOKING UPON her daughter with the kind of childish pride a child would cherish their art with. Queen Edaline was undoubtedly beautiful, with amber hair cascading past her shoulders and wide turquoise eyes that almost felt like they could see through you. But she was also naive, childishly naive, and Sophie had long ago accepted she would have to fare without her parents in terms of the brains department.

Not that she would ever tell them that.

A slightly forced smile twisted Sophie's lips. "Mother."

"How has life been treating you? What have you been doing?"

Sophie fought back a twinge of annoyance. She'd long harbored a particular hatred for small talk, especially with her parents, whom she loved but couldn't quite be honest with.

And, well, him--but she was trying not to think of him as much as everyone else allowed.

"I've been getting the battlements ready, Your Majesty. Just in case--"

Sophie knew she shouldn't have said anything; her parents were paranoid about her safety and would not at all approve of an army.

Even if it was secret.

She knew the neighboring kingdom underestimated them--the foolish king and queen with their empty-headed daughter. And since day one, she'd been more than determined to turn the tables.

Edaline sighed, her eyebrows puckering with disapproval. "That will have to be cleared away before--well." She pursed her lips. "And, Sophie, you of all people should know better. If the king found out--"

"I've been cautious--"

"I have no doubt of that, my dear. But all it takes is one small slip, one spy, and..." She snapped her fingers.

Sophie repressed a sigh. So sweet, her mother could be. "I assume you have a reason for summoning me?"

"As a matter of fact, I do." Edaline rose, her gaze sweeping over Sophie. "I trust you are now quite familiar with the prince?"

The prince, the prince. Whatever Sophie did, whatever she tried, it all boiled back to one thing and one thing only: him.

"Yes, My Queen."

"Well..." Edaline paused, and her turquoise eyes widened slightly. "Prince Fitzroy feels that you two have been in acquaintance long enough."

Dread pooled in Sophie's stomach, the liquid sloshing and threatening to boil over.

She'd known this was coming. He'd known this was coming. Everyone had known this was coming.

But she'd lived in fear of it happening from the minute they'd been introduced.

She kept her smile poised, though, from years of practice, as her mother continued.

"Crown Prince Fitzroy," her mother continued, "wishes to arrive to our capital today, in hopes to further our political discussions."

"Today? Mother, I-"

"Yes," Edaline interrupted, "today. Surely you know what is in store for your future--you will have to, ah, handle the prince for a lot longer than a few hours. However--" and here her eyes glinted mischievously--"could you excuse me and your father from this meeting? We have a few matters to tend to. I hope you'll reach an... agreement, without our presence."

Sophie again had to bite back an irritated groan. The mask she'd been putting up for years did its job, and she managed to give Edaline the good response because she was the good princess who would sacrifice her good future for the good of her kingdom.

"Yes, My Queen."

Chapter Text

SOPHIE FROWNED AT HER REFLECTION—AT THE PERFECT BLOND WAVES spiralling down her shoulders and the gold shadow coating her eyelids. She was a vision of serenity and beauty in her matching gold gown. She knew she should feel almost girlishly excited if this wasn't a very important political meeting.

But it felt wrong.

Too pretty.

Too perfect.

Too unlike the grief-broken monster she was hiding inside.

And seeing how Linh's frown mirrored her own, she guessed she was thinking the same thing.

"Might I suggest something, Your Highness?"

Sophie rolled her eyes. "I know nothing of this Highness of which you speak. You may have the wrong girl." She loved her friend, but she wasn't shy to admit that formalities were a little exhausting sometimes, as were the frustrating social divides between her and those she called friends.

Linh sighed. "Sophie, then. May I suggest something?"

Sophie spread her arms in invitation. "Be my guest."

Linh's face brightened like it always did in the rare times Sophie permitted a little primping outside an important occasion. She fumbled in the closet, her hands emerging clutching the folds of a midnight blue gown. The skirt dropped past her knees and the neckline was low enough to accentuate her neck and collarbones. The edges seemed sharp, defiant, and were studded with the tiniest diamonds—bright enough to shine, minute enough to send the message that they adorned a dangerous person.

I will not play by your rules.

Sophie had let herself be underestimated for far too long. It was time to show them exactly who they were dealing with.

"Well?" Linh said nervously, probably misreading Sophie's expression.

Sophie slipped on a mask for a brief second—a mask of unreadability. Then she let her grin break out. "Help me into that thing."

✦❘༻☆༺❘✦

SOPHIE SHOWED UP TO THE MEETING FIVE MINUTES LATE.

I will not play your games.

Immediately upon entering, her eyebrows rose.

There was King Alden, his expression cold and aloof as always. Prince Fitzroy, his eyes lighting up when he saw who it was. This, she had expected.

But then there was a beautiful dark-haired girl who was unmistakably related to the two of them. Her teal eyes narrowed coldly with an expression much like her father's. On her right sat a man with slicked blond hair and penetratingly cold blue eyes. Everything about him was immaculate, immaculate, immaculate, as if anything less than absolute perfection deserved to be burnt to the ground beneath his oily stare. His very presence would have made Sophie squirm if she hadn't spent so long putting up walls and masks against such silly reactions.

"I apologise for the delay,"Sophie said, feeling the need to break the silence.

"I assure you, the fault is all ours," the prince spoke up. These days, Sophie didn't think of him as much more than simply the prince. "We were a little sudden in our planning."

"And yet you would expect a ruler-to-be to be accustomed to such spontaneities," the blond man spoke up.

The king and the girl (Draconia's princess? Sophie didn't remember hearing anything about a princess) smirked along quietly.

Honestly, what do they do? Rehearse?

Sophie flashed a cold smile at the man. "I don't believe we've had the pleasure of meeting."

Prince Fitzroy rose to his feet, looking flustered. "Oh, of course! Forgive me, I forgot not all of you are familiar with each other." He nodded at the girl, who stood in a swift, graceful motion. "Your Highness, my sister, Princess Biana of Draconia. Bi, this is Her Highness, Princess Sophie of Azurethra."

Sophie forced a tight lipped smile. "It's an absolute honor to meet you, Princess."

Biana smiled back—though it was a viper's smile just before it attacked. Sophie was familiar with such expressions after years of dealing with politicians. "The honor undoubtedly is mine. The famed Princess Sophie." Her eyes snaked over Sophie's outfit—the bold gown, straightened blond hair, and sharp eyeliner. Compared to the princess's long pink dress, perfect curls, and diamond tiara,Sophie's own garments seemed almost outrageous.

Biana's emphasis on famed made Sophie doubt it was meant as praise. "I don't seem to recall a princess of Draconia, so I'm afraid I cannot return that compliment," she drawled.

Sophie waited for Biana's smile to fade before turning to the blond man. Fitz, seeming somewhat abashed, introduced him as Lord Casssius Sencen.

"Pleasure to meet you," Sophie said, the rehearsed line. Always the rehearsed line.

"You are...dressed differently today, Your Highness." Alden's voice cut through the room like a knife. Sophie could almost hear the swish.

She took a seat, folding her hands in her lap. "Yes, well, us Azurthrans prefer to be outright rather than hide behind pretty disguises."

I will not regret my choices.

Biana's cheeks reddened. "We are only tolerating these comments due to your closeness with my brother."

Sophie raised her eyebrows. "I'm well aware of that. Did Daddy just inform you today? Give you a line to practice?"

"Enough!" Fitz yelled as Biana started to get out of her seat. "Biana, control your temper. And, Sophie, please." His eyes pleaded with her to understand, to accept.

Sophie took a deep breath. "I apologise. My comments were unwarranted."

"Indeed," Lord Cassius said. Sophie had barely known him for five minutes and she had already decided to hate the man. "If Her Highness pleases, we can continue with the meeting."

Slimy bastard. "Yes, we may proceed. His Majesty made great haste to arrive in my kingdom. I wish to know the cause."

She caught Fitz's eye—and the shining eagerness in them made her stomach squirm.

Your judgement day has come.

Alden cleared his throat. "You have known my son for quite long."

Two months, actually. But why should you care?

"We have a proposal for you," Lord Cassius jumped in. "Accept, and we may live on in harmony and peace. Decline, and we will be taking the first step to war."

Chapter Text

"SOUNDS PROMISING," SOPHIE SAID, TRYING TO HIDE THE MOUNTING panic rising in her chest. "And what would that proposal be?"

Alden held her gaze, unflinching, as he told her, "One of a marriage alliance."

And oh.

Sophie's heart stopped. Red rimmed her vision. Her lungs were gripped by despair, heartbreak, betrayal, anger. She knew she was breathing too fast. She didn't try to stop.

Life is pointless. I am pointless.

Why even live?

Then she remembered her nanny bouncing her gently on her lap. The only light to her darkness. Her guide whenever she lost control.

 Her green eyes would gleam as she told the screaming three-year-old, "One breath in, Highness. Then one breath out."

One breath in. One breath out.

"Does the princess need a moment?" asked Lord Cassius.

In. Out.

In. Out!

"No, thank you," Sophie said, forcing a composed smile. "I will need to discuss this charming proposal with my cabinet, of course, and the king and-"

"There is no time for that," the princess interrupted--the other princess. "Draconia's patience has been worn thin, and we suggest you accept right away."

Not a threat. A promise.

For a minute--a breath of a second--Sophie considered saying no. Living with the consequences. Fighting not for her kingdom, but for herself.

But she realized how ridiculous the fantasy was just as soon.

She was a princess. She would soon be queen.

And her troops were not ready.

Try as she might, she could not change that fact. She could train them every day and they would never match Draconia's force in all their blazing glory.

She could not sacrifice her country for herself.

So she met their eyes with a false expression of joy, the one she'd wear for the rest of the life she wished she could end right there.

In. Out.

"I accept."

In. Out. inoutinoutinoutin

✦❘༻☆༺❘✦

Sophie had fallen.

She knew it. 

Her smile remained poised as she left the room. A fake smile, a fake girl. As she walked, one foot in front of the other, to continue a life she no longer cared about. 

She had won for her country.

But she'd lost herself in the process.

The portraits in the hall seemed to be laughing at her--leering at the adopted child, the disgrace, the last choice.

She'd been adopted by the infertile king and queen, her parents gladly giving her away because they could see no better fate for their daughter.

Their daughter, who had nothing left in life.

Their daughter, who would just as soon end it now.

Chapter Text

KEEFE SENCEN STARED AT THE NOTE IN HIS HAND. It seemed almost simple when his father wrote it like that—go to the palace in Azurethra. Keep tabs on the princess. Take action if necessary.

Yeah, right.

Keefe may not know much about royalty other than his best friend, the prince of Draconia, and his sister who'd shamelessly flirted with him for years, but he knew Princess Sophie was merciless when it came to execution.

Though that may be a mercy to him, given how crappy his life was.

He sighed.

He wasn't technically accepted as a member of Draconian nobility given the fact that his mother was a mere maid, although with dreams for her son. She'd been another of his father's victims. He'd only taken him as his child to use him, to brag to the king about the assassin who would be an asset to the kingdom when he grew. 

That was the only reason he spared Keefe a glance.

Keefe looked at the package of clothes—a servant's garb in the kingdom of Azurethra. He'd undoubtedly have to sneak in there as a mere worker. 

Now, he wore the simple black garments of a Draconian townsman, adorned with silver edging to indicate his father's high status. But to him, it meant something else.

He belonged to no one, and he was no one.

Sighing, he slipped into the breathable ensemble and left his chamber in the basement to find a carriage.

A giggle escaped from behind him. He turned, frowning, his eyes landing upon two girls standing in the corner.

He dragged a hand through his hair, well aware of the effect it would have on them. "Ladies."

The brunette stepped forward. "Could we help you?" She attempted a seductive smile and Keefe had to stop himself from cringing.

"Could you take me to the nearest carriage station?" he asked, attempting to be civil.

The girls were all too eager to comply, giggling and flirting the entire way. 

"How is your day going?" The redhead asked.

"Better now," Keefe said, smirking. It was the mix of flirting and teasing he needed to use to hide his purpose.

"Are you visiting someone, perhaps?" She pressed, a flirty smile on her lips to hide the fear he was off to make relations with a lover.

"My grandparents," he lied. "They live very far away, in the village. They often need my assistance. Just as I need yours now."

The girl gazed at him with adoration Keefe knew she wouldn't have if she knew what he was going to do.

Keefe internally sighed with relief when they reached at last.

Despite what everyone tried to portray him as, he was not the type to lead a girl on.

Especially not the girls who were all too eager to giggle and attempt seductiveness.

Keefe knew he probably wouldn't court anybody in this lifetime--he was far too tainted with the blood of the lives the king had taken.

And an assassin could not be a married man.

He climbed into a carriage, thanking the man driving it. As Draconian societal barriers demanded, carriage drivers did not speak unless to ask your location and to thank you for the payment. Keefe often wondered what was going on in those silent, stoic minds of theirs.

He gazed through the windows, lost in thought. 

The kingdom of Azurethra was of no little beauty. Keefe could see why King Alden wanted the territory--if not for its beauty then for how practical the land was.

Fitz often told him, a frown marring his features, that the king considered their family more worthy of the land than the 'Azurethran brats.'

"I disagree," he'd added. "If you'd met Sophie, you'd agree she's worthy of everything."

"Including you, it seems," Keefe declared with a smirk.

Keefe often teased him about the dreamy look that crossed his face each time the name Princess Sophie was broached. He couldn't imagine he would share that admiration. 

He held his breath as they approached the palace. There was a secret entrance, his father had told him, in a tunnel beneath the gardens.

"Thank you," he told the carriage driver, handing whatever coins he had left. 

A smile touched the drivers lips—a hint that he knew exactly what Keefe was here to do.

Thanks, Father.

"The pleasure was mine," he said.

"It would be," Keefe said with a smirk. "Which man—or woman, indeed—would not love this honor?"

"I would not pass it up, for sure." His eyes glittered with amusement.

Keefe could not help thinking how different this man was out of the reach of King Alden's claws. He seemed a whole new person—carefree and willing to joke. In another universe, Keefe realized, they could have been friends.

He bowed, attempting to take leave. "Thank you."

The man returned this. As Keefe turned to walk away, he called, "The pleasure was mine, my Lord. I believe you can yet prove your worth."

Chapter Text

SOPHIE LIKED THE GARDENS. Particularly the servant's ones, something that they had cleared out for them to spend their time in when their quarters felt claustrophobic. It had been Sophie's idea—though no one had expected her to start coming here too.

They made her feel more herself after what may be the most convincing performances she ever put on.

After the feeling that the walls would close in, that she was sure to suffocate and die, (though that would have been mercy in her current situation,) she felt the need of fresh air and flowers and life, albeit life of the bumblebees and butterflies.

Hours of shaking hands and smiling had taken their toll, leaving her rumpled and exhausted.  Sweat was beading on her upper lip, and it was a trial to escape.

Pushing her sweaty ringlets off of her face, she couldn't help wishing that Silveny--her horse--would be here for her. She couldn't muster the courage to walk all the way to the stables, not at this very moment, when she'd just returned from the feast. She didn't want to be cornered by dignitaries and diplomats or even the prince.

She just wanted to be alone.

And so, it was with these thoughts that she exited her prison of a palace, settling on the grass amidst the scattered petals.

She heard a rustle in the bushes. Frowned.

So much for alone.

Smoothing her hair, she stood. "Who goes there?"

A blond mane peeked from the leaves.

What the hell?

Then, a man stood to his full height—one that Sophie couldn't match even in her heels. Of the million thoughts that should have leaped to her mind, only one stuck through.

He has pretty eyes.

She would have rolled her eyes at herself, but this was true—they were the blue of ice, of the sky, of a sparkling pond and-

Why the hell was she so obsessed with a stranger's eyes?

Forcing her thoughts to become coherent again, she asked, "Who are you?"

She inwardly cursed herself. Why hadn't she asked what he was doing here? Why didn't she care about that?

The man's eyes sparkled.

Heavens above, those eyes...

"I trust you are Princess Sophie?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Good. At least you know who you are speaking to. Though you have some nerve asking that."

He laughed. "Forgive me. I was looking for confirmation—it's unlikely a princess spends this much time in the servant's gardens."

Sophie realized that she could have his tongue removed for much less—but she didn't want to. She was rather enjoying herself, she realized. This battle of wits was making her feel more alive than she could remember.

"Well, now we have settled who I am, maybe it's time you introduce yourself. I could have you executed for trespassing, you know."

He tilted his head. "I am Prince Fitzroy's companion, so I doubt that would be fruitful to your alliance."

She scoffed. "Companion? Is he a prince or a fine lady?"

"The prince acts more like a lady than anyone realizes," the man assured her. "You may confirm my identity with him if you wish."

"That won't be necessary." She hesitated before adding, "It was a pleasure to meet you."

He bowed, picking up her hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. Sophie tried to ignore the jump of her pulse. "The pleasure is most definitely mine."

He turned.

"Wait," Sophie called, struggling to organize her brain. This interaction had been disorientating. "I still don't know your name."

He laughed. "I dare you to find out."

✦❘༻☆༺❘✦

Keefe Sencen hid on the outskirts of the palace.

He had messed up. Badly.

The princess was never supposed to see him—although he couldn’t say he regretted it.

He remembered her warm eyes, flecked with gold, as though a paintbrush dipped in gold had spread over her irises. It had been a pleasant change—he couldn’t remember a single brown-eyed person in Draconia.

He shook his head violently. He wasn’t supposed to be thinking about this.

He sighed and began to dictate the message to his father.

Change of plans.

Chapter Text

AT ONE IN THE MORNING, Keefe met his father in his chambers to discuss how the plans would change.

First, he received a strike for his careless behavior—even though he pointed out that there was no possible way he could have anticipated that the princess spent time in the servant’s gardens.

Second, he was informed that Fitz and the Azurethran king and queen had been informed of his presence and that he would be spending his days as his companion—even in court.

His quarters had been arranged, adjoining to Fitz’s.

As Keefe stood up to leave, he hesitated before asking his father a question. “Why the princess?”

His father’s eyes narrowed. “You know the answer. She is far more dangerous than either of her parents. And we need an excuse for war.”

Was she dangerous?

Keefe didn’t know, but he sure as hell wanted to find  out.

He almost didn’t catch his father’s next words as he slipped out the door.

“In my experience, you should never underestimate a woman.”

✦❘༻☆༺❘✦

Sophie knew one thing—she was going to find out who that man was.

She didn't care what lengths she had to go to, she would do it. She didn't back down from challenges, and no companion of a prince would make a fool of her.

Casually slipping her hand into Fitz's as they strolled through the palace's front yard, she asked in her most innocuous voice, "So I hear you brought along a companion during your travels?

"Yes," he said, smiling down at her. "My dear friend, Keefe Sencen."

Sencen. Why was that name familiar? 

"Princes do not deign to bring companions on travel very often," she said. "How is this man special?" 

"We grew up together," he explained. "He is the son of a lord and a maid, but when his mother died, he was put to use by his father as anything possible. Often a messenger, but he accompanies me often. Men do appreciate companionship, you know."

Her mind spinning, she asked distractedly, "You say his father is a lord. Have I encountered  him, by any chance?"

Fitz beamed. "Very recently. Surely you remember Lord Cassius?"