Chapter 23 Aug 18, 2025 Celeste The cold steel pressed against my palm as I slipped the dagger beneath my pillow for the fourth night in a row. Its weight had become as familiar as my own heartbeat, a constant reminder that safety was an illusion in these gilded corridors. The blade was small enough to conceal but sharp enough to defend-Hannah had procured it without question when I'd asked, her weathered face understanding more than words could convey. "Sleep well, my lady," she murmured as she extinguished the last candle, leaving only moonlight to silver the edges of my chamber. But sleep had become elusive. Every creak of floorboards, every whisper of wind through the tall windows, every distant sound of footsteps in the corridor set my nerves alight. The child within me seemed to sense my vigilance, shifting restlessly as if sharing my unease. This morning brought yet another unfamiliar face at my door-a young guard with nervous eyes who fumbled through his introduction. "Thomas, Your Highness. I'll be stationed here today." "What happened to Marcus?" I asked, though I already knew the answer would be unsatisfying. "Reassigned, Your Highness. Orders from above." The same story, repeated with mechanical precision. Guards rotated without notice. Servants appeared and disappeared like ghosts. Even my food tasters changed daily, each one eyeing my meals with the wariness of soldiers entering battle. Alexandre arrived as I was finishing my morning correspondence, his usually immaculate appearance showing subtle signs of strain. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and his jaw carried the tension of a man fighting battles on too many fronts. "We've completed the security sweep," he said without preamble, settling into the chair across from my writing desk. "And?" "Nothing." The word carried the weight of his frustration. I set down my quill. "Then why do I still feel like prey?" "Because the threat isn't in what we can see." He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. "It's in the whispers, the shifting loyalties, the careful orchestration of doubt." Through my windows, the palace gardens stretched in perfect symmetry, their autumn beauty masking the undercurrents of danger that flowed through every corner of our world. Even paradise could become a prison. "I want you to leave," Alexandre said suddenly, his voice cutting through my contemplation. "What?" "The southern estate. It's isolated, defensible. I can have you there by tomorrow evening." His hands moved restlessly, betraying the calm his voice projected. "Stay there until the child is born. I'll come when it's time." Part of me yearned for the escape he offered-to flee these corridors thick with conspiracy, to birth my child in peace rather than under siege. "No." "Céleste-" "If I run now, I give them the crown." I stood, one hand supporting my rounded belly as I moved to the window. "They'll say I fled because I was guilty. That the child is indeed illegitimate. My absence will be their proof." "Your presence might be your death." "Then I'll die here, where I belong." He rose and came to stand behind me, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body. In the glass reflection, I could see the war playing out across his features-love battling duty, desire wrestling with responsibility. "I can't protect you if you won't let me," he said quietly. "You can't protect me anyway." The words came out harsher than I'd intended, but they carried the truth we both knew. "This palace is a web, and we're all caught in it." His hands settled on my shoulders, warm and steady despite everything. "Then stay close. Stay visible. If anything happens-" "It already has," I whispered, turning within the circle of his arms. The admission settled between us. The poisoning, the threats, the systematic isolation-the war had already begun. We were simply fighting to survive it. Alexandre's hands moved to cup my face, his thumbs brushing across my cheekbones with infinite tenderness. "I never wanted this for you." "I know." "You deserved better than secrets and shadows." "I deserved you," I said simply. "Everything else is just the price we pay." The afternoon light streamed through the tall windows, casting everything in gold and amber. For months, we had stolen moments in darkness, hidden our connection behind careful propriety and political necessity. But now, with danger closing in from all sides, pretense felt like luxury we could no longer afford. When Alexandre leaned down to kiss me, it wasn't the desperate, hidden passion of our secret encounters. It was something else entirely-a public declaration, a line crossed in broad daylight. His lips were soft against mine, carrying the taste of coffee and the weight of everything we'd never been able to say aloud. I melted into him, one hand pressed against his chest where I could feel his heart racing in rhythm with my own. The child between us stirred, as if blessing this moment of stolen honesty.