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... stepped through without ceremony.

The servants froze, wide-eyed, uncertain whether to bow or run. Whispers stirred like restless leaves.

"Welcome back, Prince Daemon," a few maids said hastily, their voices stiff.

"Welcome back," echoed a few guards, more out of duty than warmth.

Everything inside the palace was exactly as he'd left it—the polished marble floors, the red carpets stitched with gold, the faint scent of lilac and waxed steel hanging in the air.

...

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“Are you my knight?” The silver-haired youth looked at the blonde girl before him and asked, his cheeks flushed red. This was their first encounter when he was only ten years of age.

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