[Lavinia’s POV—Dawnspire Wing]
There was a moment—a tiny, breathless moment—where the entire balcony fell silent.
Even that enormous eagle, Solena, halted mid-flap like a statue carved out of terror and feathers, her sharp eyes locked on the shadowed figure beyond the railing, ready to attack.
"Stay here," Osric whispered, stepping protectively in front of me, his sword gleaming cold and cruel beneath the moonlight. His shoulders were tense, jaw set, like a knight in a painting come to life.
Stay here?
Excuse me?
I blinked at him, scoffing. "Do I look like someone who needs to hide, Osric?" I stepped beside him, brushing past his arm. "Don’t forget—I’m stronger than Caelum on his best day."
Osric sighed like a man used to this kind of insubordination. "Alright... just—stay close to me. Please."
I gave him a firm nod and clenched my fists, ready to lunge. Solena crouched low beside us, wings flaring in anticipation, her mouth already curled in anticipation of snark and talons.
We were ready to face a deadly assassin.
We were ready to strike.
Until—
"GAAHH—IT HURTS! IT BLOODY HURTS LIKE HELL!"
We blinked.
"What in the moon’s name was that?" I asked, already moving toward the railing.
"That voice..." Osric muttered, squinting down into the shadows.
We walked forward,
There he was.
Flat on the stone floor of the balcony like a crushed pigeon.
"Caelum?" I gasped.
He peeked up from the ground with all the dignity of a damp rag and weakly waved a hand. "Oh, hi, Princess... how’s your grounding going?"
I stared.
He groaned dramatically, rolling onto his side like a wounded actor. "Would it kill someone to lay a fluffy carpet out here? I think my spine’s permanently rearranged."
Osric gave him the blandest, most unimpressed stare I’d ever seen. "You. What exactly are you doing here at midnight?"
Caelum raised a finger, as if about to deliver some grand retort... then paused. His brows lifted, expression shifting into mock indignation.
"I should be asking you the same question, my lord. Creeping around a princess’s chamber, it will be a bad reputation for the next heir of Everheart."
Before Osric could respond with what was likely a sword to the face, there was a high-pitched squawk from above.
Solena let out a sound that was suspiciously like a smug laugh—then launched herself from her perch straight at Caelum.
"WHOA—WHAT IS THAT—GET IT OFF ME—WHY DOES IT HAVE CLAWS?!" Caelum flailed as Solena landed right on his shoulder and began pecking at him like a personal vengeance mission.
"That’s what you get for scaring her half to death," Osric muttered, arms crossed.
Solena, in perfect poise, gave Caelum one last poke in the ribs with her talon and then strutted back inside like a queen who had just defended her castle. A jewel-thieving, no-nonsense, feathery queen.
Then, like a queen reclaiming her throne, she strutted back inside the wardrobe, her feathers ruffling with attitude, already eyeing my jewelry tray like it owed her rent.
Meanwhile, Caelum—now a mess of tangled robes, dust in his hair, and a heavily bruised ego—sat up with a dramatic sigh that could have won awards.
"I was attacked," he gasped, brushing imaginary debris from his shoulder, "by a hurricane."
Osric sheathed his sword with a tired shake of his head. "You deserved it."
"I’m starting to think you put her up to it."
Osric didn’t respond—just raised an eyebrow.
Caelum glared, but it melted quickly into something far more mischievous. With a flourish, he pulled out a small box from his robe. "Well, despite nearly being mauled by your bird, I come bearing gifts. Princess, I brought you—"
He paused.
His smile faltered.
His eyes scanned the empty feast table behind me.
There was no sign of the strawberry cake.
"...a strawberry cake," he finished, voice suddenly hollow. He looked at me. Then the table. Then back at me. Slowly.
I blinked.
"...I see," he said dramatically, slumping like a disappointed stage actor. "I was too late. Another prince’s feast conquered my lady’s heart."
"Now that you realize there’s no point in being here," Osric said coolly, arms crossed like a sentinel, "get. Out."
Caelum straightened, tossing his hair back with flair. "Not until the princess says so."
He looked at me with a dazzling smile, the kind that had probably charmed half the court and frustrated the rest. "Princess... I scaled a terrifying height, nearly broke my ankle on a gargoyle, and was assaulted by your bodyguard pigeon. Surely that earns me five minutes of conversation?"

. . .
. . .
. . .
Solena looked at him like she’d just bitten into something rotten. "Disgusting."
Osric shuddered dramatically, pulling his cloak tighter. "He’s so cringe."
"Hey!" Caelum threw up his arms, completely unbothered. "That was a good one!"
Bonk!
"Ow! Rude!" Caelum rubbed his scalp. "Also—you snuck in too, you traitor. It’s we who snuck in."
I froze mid-bite. Right. He did ask that.
And now Caelum was leaning forward like a puppy who just heard the word "treat." "Ooh, I’d love to hear this one. Go on. Give us something."
Caelum wagged a fork in my direction. "Because, dearest Princess, your coming-of-age celebration is in four months. Which means..."
Osric twitched in anger and whispered, "Marriage proposals are coming."
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