The moon hung low over the sprawling Royce estate, casting a silver sheen across the marble courtyard. Ishan stood at the edge of the reflecting pool, his eyes fixed on the rippling water. Every wave distorted the pale reflection of his face, as though mocking the balance he was trying to keep inside.
Amina Royce was standing behind him, her voice soft yet tinged with something sharper. "You've been avoiding me again, Ishan. Why?"
He turned slowly, taking in the sight of her. Even in the cool night air, she radiated an unspoken heat. The silk of her gown whispered against the stone floor, the scent of lavender lingering in her wake. But behind those amber eyes was a storm — a challenge to him, to this arrangement, to the world.
"I'm not avoiding you," he said, though even he heard the lie in his tone.
She stepped closer. "Then what are you doing?" Her words were deliberate, like a knife tracing the edge of his thoughts.
Ishan's jaw tightened. He wanted to tell her about the unease in his chest, about the strange tension that had been building since the gala, about the shadowed figure that had been trailing him through the city streets. But the truth was a dangerous currency, and he didn't know if Amina could bear its weight.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," he said finally.
"Try me."
The air between them thickened, charged like the moment before a lightning strike. He took a step forward, the distance closing until he could see the faint rise and fall of her breathing. "There's someone watching us," he whispered. "Not just me — us. And I think it's connected to why they pushed this marriage forward."
Her brows drew together, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she tilted her head, her voice barely above a whisper. "You think I don't feel it too?"
That caught him off guard.
She leaned in, so close that her breath warmed his ear. "I've been followed for weeks, Ishan. But I didn't know if it was your enemies… or mine."
A flicker of adrenaline surged through him. For the first time, he realized they might be standing on the same side of something much larger than either of them.
But before he could say more, a faint rustle broke through the stillness — a shadow slipping between the hedges. Ishan's instincts kicked in. His hand went to the small dagger concealed in his jacket, his gaze darting to the movement.
Amina's hand found his wrist, not in fear, but in something that felt like defiance. "Don't," she murmured. "Not here. Not yet."
The shadow stilled, as though it knew it had been seen. Then, without a sound, it melted back into the darkness.
For a moment, the only sound was the wind brushing against the pool's surface.
Ishan finally looked at her, the tension in his chest coiled tight. "We need to talk. Privately. Tomorrow night."
She studied him, her lips curving into the faintest, most dangerous smile he had seen yet. "Then make sure you show up, Vale. Because if you don't… I'll come looking for you."
It wasn't a threat. It was a promise.