Everything began with a single whisper.
Someone had seen the crown prince dancing with the duke's daughter in the garden. Secretly, away from the crowd's eyes.
No witness came forward. No proof existed.
And yet the story spread.
It was neither an engagement nor a promise.
Just interest.
Claude neither denied it nor confirmed it.
His silence only sharpened the rumor.
Before breakfast, Father called me.
He looked for confusion or arrogance on my face but found nothing.
I told only the truth. That I had danced with the prince. Nothing more.
He judged that was enough.
By noon, invitations poured in.
Tea gatherings, luncheons, garden walks.
Claude did not appear, yet his name followed everywhere.
I attended all of them. Smiled when I needed to, spoke when I needed to.
And when no one was watching, I brushed past people.
Visions rose and faded.
Most deaths were ordinary.
But every path led to the same end. Fire, smoke, a ruined kingdom.
It was always after Aisha had disappeared.
Or perhaps she had run away.
It was unclear. Just the most plausible explanation.
Claude watched from afar.
Women were drawn to him effortlessly.
He chased no one and promised nothing.
Yet hearts were broken.
A heartbreaker.
"Not even glaring?"
One afternoon, he appeared beside me without warning.
I took a sip of tea.
"Should I be jealous?"
"Most are."
"Most don't even know you."
He laughed, a cold laugh.
But there was tension in it somewhere.
Landon arrived three days later.
I could tell without seeing.
The palace suddenly felt smaller, the air oppressive.
"Keeping busy," he said.
I was not surprised.
Calmly, gently, harmlessly, I turned around.
"I was invited to the palace," I said.
"It would be rude to refuse."
His gaze lingered. Not in appraisal, but calculation.
"The palace does not invite people like you. You just react."
His fingers grasped my wrist.
Strong enough to be a warning.
I did not pull away.
"You are walking a dangerous line," he said quietly.
"Letting people talk about you."
"I am only representing my family."
He let go.
Nothing happened.
No visions, no warnings.
Because there was nothing new to see.
I already knew this ending.
Danel's sword. Aisha beside him.
Landon smiling until the very end.
"Quiet," Landon said softly.
"That is when trouble usually starts."
I lowered my gaze.
The way I had learned years ago.
"I am tired."
A safe answer.
He hummed. Did not believe it, but seemed satisfied.
"Good. Tired people make fewer mistakes."
He stepped back.
As if rewarding me with space.
Only after he left did I exhale.
My hands were shaking.
Not from fear.
Not because of what was to come.
Because I knew what would not happen.
No matter what I did, Landon would not die today.
Not tomorrow.
Not at my hand.
It would be Danel who killed him.
Aisha would be there.
Until then, Landon was untouchable.
Across the garden, Claude laughed with the nobles.
Carefree, bright. He did not look like someone who would start a war.
But once, Landon had looked the same.
If I wanted to survive a known ending,
I needed three things.
Access.
Distance from Landon.
And Claude's attention.
Marriage was still the cleanest solution.
Not to change fate, but to enter it.
Across the garden, Claude's gaze met mine.
This time, he did not look away first.
Good.
Let him misunderstand.
That could be used.
That evening, Claude intercepted me.
Not aggressive, not rude.
He was too skilled for that.
He waited until the music softened and the crowd flowed into the ballroom,
then appeared beside me as if he had been there the whole time.
"Popular," Claude said, glancing at nobles whispering behind fans and glasses.
"I don't remember inviting you to be tonight's spectacle."
"I didn't volunteer," I replied.
"I think I was assigned."
He smiled.
Up close, it was worse.
Too handsome, too composed.
A man who had never wondered if the world would support him.
"You asked me to marry you," he said casually.
"And disappeared."
"I didn't disappear.
I attended the event. Very properly."
"Without once looking at me."
"I was busy being briefed."
He stifled a laugh.
"Most women try harder if they want something from me."
"I don't," I said.
"That's why you noticed."
Silence.
I had gone too far.
Claude was truly looking at me now.
The playfulness was gone, replaced by something sharper.
It was not suspicion.
It was curiosity.
"You do not seem like someone in love," he said.
"I am not."
"Nor desperate."
"Neither."
He leaned closer, lowering his voice.
"Then why marriage?"
I did not answer.
Instead, I said,
"I told you. Convenience."
"Dangerous words to use with a prince."
"Refusal too," I answered.