The night air tasted like rain. Lanterns swayed overhead, casting golden light across the courtyard’s wet stone. Aria leaned against the edge of the fountain, trying to ignore the echo of Alec’s footsteps approaching from behind.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone,” he said, voice smooth but laced with something that almost sounded like concern.

Aria snorted. “You shouldn’t eavesdrop, but here we are.”

He came to stand beside her, arms crossed, a faint smirk curving his lips. “I wasn’t eavesdropping. You just don’t whisper very well when you’re insulting me.”

Her pulse stuttered. “Excuse me?”

Alec tilted his head, feigning innocence. “‘Spineless Vaelorth princelet.’ That was your phrase, wasn’t it?”

Heat climbed up her neck. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

“Oh, I heard plenty.” His eyes glinted amber in the lamplight, amused and sharp all at once. “Look at you, calling me spineless behind my back. At least say it to my face next time.”

She pushed off the fountain, stepping closer until the space between them felt charged, fragile. “Fine. You are spineless. You hide behind your mother’s orders and pretend it’s duty. You talk about honor, but you don’t even know what the word means.”

For a moment, something flickered across his expression—hurt, maybe, or anger—but it was gone before she could be sure.

“You think I want this?” he asked quietly. “To chase you halfway across the kingdom because she told me to? To keep pretending I’m some obedient son when I haven’t believed in her cause for years?”

The honesty in his tone unsettled her more than his arrogance ever did.

“Then why do it?” she demanded.

His jaw tightened. “Because walking away from her would mean walking away from everything I’ve ever known. And maybe I’m not as brave as you think I should be.”

Silence fell, broken only by the trickle of the fountain and the soft patter of new rain.

Aria swallowed hard, hating that she almost felt sorry for him. “You’re impossible,” she muttered, turning to leave.

Alec’s voice followed her—low, dangerous, almost tender. “And you’re a terrible liar, Stormbird. You wouldn’t talk about me that much if you didn’t care at least a little.”

She didn’t turn around, but her heart betrayed her with its uneven rhythm.

“Keep telling yourself that,” she said, and vanished into the rain.