Page 41 of The Cost of Blood and Bonds

“Ready for our morning run?” he asks, easy and familiar, but his gaze stays on me.

I feel heat creeping up my neck at how much he seems to notice. After all these years, I’d come to believe no one ever could.

The guard turns. “Prince Ryewood. I didn’t realize Swordmaster Gemira was training you this early.”

“I asked her to meet me for a run,” Rye says lightly.

The guard’s gaze flicks between us and lingers. “Understood,” he says after a beat. “That doesn’t change the restrictions.”

Rye’s brow creases slightly. “What restrictions?”

“Training staff now require an escort before the corridors open.”

He holds Rye’s gaze, steady and unmoved. Tides.

“I’ll need to record the incident,” he says.

“What’s your name?” Rye asks.

The guard blinks once. “Kerrin, Your Highness.”

Rye tilts his head, voice still calm. “I’d think carefully about how you phrase that report.”

The guard inclines his head. “Of course, Your Highness.”

Kerrin gives a short nod and steps back. He turns and continues down the corridor, boots striking stone with the same unhurried rhythm as before. I know then that the report will be written, and it won’t stop there. Whatever cover she had left, I’ve just made it thinner.

“I should go,” I say, already stepping back.

“Not yet,” Rye says. “One of the guards mentioned you’ve been out early a few mornings.”

He says it casually, but he’s already here, dressed before dawn. He didn’t just happen to be here. He came to find me.

He gestures casually toward the gardens, like this was always the plan. “If anyone’s watching, they need to see us walking together, not splitting off like we’ve just done something wrong.”

His attention is starting to matter, and it’s making everything more dangerous for us. Pressure coils in my stomach. I hate that he’s right.

“Come on,” he adds lightly. “We’ll finish the run properly.”

I hesitate a moment too long before nodding.

We walk side by side toward the gardens. The sky is brighter now, the soft gray giving way to pale blue. Early enough that the castle still feels half-asleep, but late enough that the mistake mattered.

Rye doesn’t say anything at first, but I can feel his attention on me. Like he’s watching from the corner of his eye.

I keep my gaze forward. I take another step before realizing he hasn’t followed, and I turn back. He’s looking at me fully now, like he’s done pretending this is casual.

“You’re different,” he says.

My pulse stutters. He’s close enough to the truth that my answers matter.

“Different how?”

He shakes his head slightly, frustrated. “I don’t know. That’s the problem.”

I force a small shrug. “People are allowed to have off days.” The excuse sounds thin, even to me.

“That isn’t it. It’s like you’re…” He pauses, searching. “Like you’re here, but not quite.”