I find Cassian in a private, cosy villa on the outskirts of the city, just as Sir Rowen said. But as I enter, I am surprised to see no guards. Instead, the place is filled with half-dressed women lounging around, their eyes hazy with wine and smoke. They pay me no mind, and I ignore them in return.
Moving through the hall, I check room after room until I find him. Cassian lies sprawled on the bed, a naked girl drapes over him. He is dead asleep. The girl, however, notices me immediately. Her eyes widenes in shock.
I motion for her to leave. She hesitates, glancing between me and Cassian, but then she grabs her clothes and hurries out without a word.
I watch her go, then turn back to him. He is a mess; unkempt, disheveled, lost. My chest tightens, but I refuse to pity him. Instead, I reach out and tap his shoulder.
"Wake up, Your Highness."
A groan. He shifts slightly but doesn't open his eyes. I tap him again, firmer this time.
"Wake up, Cassian."
Slowly, he stirs, his brows knitting together as he blinks himself awake. His bloodshot eyes finally focus on me, and he startles upright.
"What are you doing here?" His voice is rough, his confusion clear.
I don't answer right away. Instead, I sit on the edge of the bed, looking around at the mess in the room.
"I was sent to fetch you," I say simply.
His shoulders tense. "By who?"
"It doesn't matter." I meet his gaze. "You are needed in the palace. You have pressing responsibilities to fulfill before you are crowned. Time is running out."
He scoffs, rubbing a hand over his face. "And if I don't want to?"
I study him carefully. "Then someone else will take your place."
His jaw clenches. "You mean you?"
I don't answer.
A tense silence stretches between us. He sighs heavily and leans back against the headboard, staring at the ceiling.
"How did you find this place?"
"It doesn't matter," I repeat.
He turns to me, his expression unreadable. Then, after a long pause, he exhales and runs a hand through his tangled hair.
"Give me an hour."
I stand, smoothing my gown. "Be at the palace before sundown, Cassian."
Without another word, I leave, leaving him to his choices.
Cassian returns to the palace looking nothing like the wreck I found earlier. He is clean, dressed sharply, his hair neatly combed back. But the fire in his eyes as he storms into my chambers tells me he isn't here for pleasantries.
"Don't go tracking me around like some stray dog," he spits, stopping just inches from me. "I don't answer to you."
I arch a brow, unfazed. "And I wouldn't have to come looking for you if you behaved like a prince and stopped frolicking all over the place." I cross my arms. "Do you know how many foolish questions I had to answer from your council members? 'Why can't the queen keep her newlywed husband in one place?' 'Is there trouble in the royal marriage already?'" I scoff. "Do you enjoy making a mockery of me, Cassian?"
His eyes darken. "It's your choice, Celeste. You wanted this marriage, so deal with whatever comes out of it!" His voice rises. "Stay the hell away from me!"
"Then behave yourself!" I shoot back, stepping closer. "If you act like a husband, I won't have to come running after you like a child!"
A muscle ticks in his jaw. "You think I enjoy this?" His hands curl into fists. "Being trapped in a marriage I didn't ask for? Having you…" he gestures wildly at me, "..breathe down my neck like some prison warden?"
"Then do something about it!" I challenge. "Prove to the council, to the entire kingdom, that you are a king worth respecting! Because right now, you're just a spoiled prince running from responsibilities!"
His chest heaves, his nostrils flaring. The tension crackles between us like lightning. Neither of us backs down.
Outside, murmurs and footsteps gather. The palace is listening. Our fight has drawn an audience. But I don't care. Let them hear. Let them know their king is still acting like a reckless boy.
Cassian clenches his jaw, his fingers twitching at his sides. "I don't need you to lecture me, Celeste."
"And I don't need a husband who acts like a fool," I snap.
For a moment, he just glares at me. Then, without another word, he turns sharply and storms out, slamming the door behind him so hard the walls tremble.
I let out a breath, my pulse racing. If Cassian wants war, then war he will get.
This evening, as I walk past the eastern wing, I hear voices drifting from the royal garden. Cassian's voice. The queen's. And the eldest council member, the same one who questioned me yesterday, Lord Edric.
I slow my steps, pressing myself against the stone wall. I can't make out every word, but their hushed tones tell me one thing: this conversation is important.
Cassian sounds tense. "I don't see why this can't wait."
The queen's voice is firm. "Because time is running out, Cassian. You must decide."
Decide? About what?
Lord Eric clears his throat. "It is tradition, Your Highness. You cannot escape it. Without it, your claim to the throne is…"
Cassian cuts him off. "Enough." His voice is sharp, his irritation clear. "I said I'll think about it."
A heavy silence follows.
Then the queen speaks again, softer this time. "You don't have much time to think, Cassian. You must act."
My pulse quickens. What are they pressuring him to do?
I inch closer, careful to stay hidden behind the archway. But just as I'm about to step forward, the air shifts.
The voices stop.
And then..
"Celeste."
Cassian's voice is no longer tense. It's cold. Knowing.
He's looking right at me.