The palace library, my library, has become my sanctuary.
Whenever I don't have classes or I'm free, I come here. Away from the palace politics, the whispers, the tension. Here, I can breathe.
The law books are an immense help. The knowledge within these pages is priceless; old cases, judgments, principles of justice. The notebooks and handouts I've discovered, possibly left behind by the late King himself, are even more valuable. Each word feels like a gift from the past.
I couldn't ask for more.
But what truly makes this place special is him.
The portrait of the King looms over the study, his gaze commanding and unwavering. The first time I really looked at him, I felt something. A pull. A connection I couldn't explain.
And now, whenever I struggle to understand a concept, whenever I feel lost, I look into his eyes.
His gaze is a pool of immeasurable knowledge.
And then, understanding comes to me.
It's almost surreal. Like he's guiding me. Teaching me. Protecting me.
Besides knowledge, I feel safe here. Safer than anywhere else in the palace. Safer than with Cassian, safer than in my own chambers.
This room is more than just books and dust. It's alive with the spirit of the man who once ruled this kingdom.
And in his presence, I know I am meant for something greater.
Something I don't fully understand yet.
But soon…I will.
***
I'm in my library, my sanctuary, preparing for a moot court competition. The atmosphere is quiet, the scent of old books filling the air as I stand in the middle of the room, practicing my argument aloud.
I hold my notebook up, gesturing as if I'm in front of a panel of judges.
Then the door creaks open.
I pause mid-sentence, annoyed by the intrusion.
Cassian steps in. His presence is commanding as always, dressed in a crisp navy suit, his usual air of authority wrapped around him like a cloak. His eyes sweep over me, studying me with quiet intensity.
"I went to your chamber to see you," he says casually, his deep voice breaking the silence. "I was told you're here."
I arch a brow, irritated at being disturbed. "And?"
He doesn't answer immediately. Instead, he takes slow, measured steps into the room, his gaze scanning the books and the large portrait of the late King before settling back on me.
"Why are you looking for me?" I ask, lowering my notebook and crossing my arms. "How can I help you?"
He leans against my desk, his expression unreadable. "You are very unpredictable, Celeste. Too independent for your own good."
I scoff. "I don't understand."
"First, you enroll in law school without a word. Then, you buy yourself a car. And now, you've turned this library into your personal courtroom. You don't think it's wise to let me in on what you do?"
I narrow my eyes. Is he serious? "Like you let me in on yours?"
Cassian straightens, his jaw tightening. "I'm the Prince, Celeste. Your king-to-be. I don't need to tell you everything I do."
I let out a dry laugh, my irritation spiking. "Well, that's not my definition of marriage. King or prince, you're supposed to be my husband first before anything else."
His eyes darken. "Are you questioning my standard?"
I lift my chin, meeting his glare head-on. "I'm questioning everything you do and stand for."
For a moment, we just stare at each other. The air between us is charged, a silent battle raging.
Then, his gaze flickers to my lips.
"We didn't start this marriage the way you talk about," he murmurs.
I smirk, refusing to back down. "Then let's keep playing this game and see who gets tired first."
His control snaps.
Before I can react, he grabs me; one hand on my waist, the other around my neck and pulls me close.
Very close.
Then, he kisses me.
It's fierce, demanding, and overwhelming. I freeze, my hands pushing against his chest, but he doesn't let go. His grip is firm, his breath warm against my lips. I feel him everywhere.
And then, I give in.
I grab his collar and kiss him back with the same fire, the same defiance. Our lips move in sync, battling for dominance, as if this moment has been waiting to happen.
When we finally pull away, we're both breathless.
Cassian's forehead rests against mine, his hands still holding me in place. I feel his heartbeat, fast and unsteady.
He exhales sharply, his voice a whisper against my skin.
"I will get better. I promise."
Then, just like that, he steps back and walks out.
I stand there, my heart racing, my breath still uneven.
What just happened?
I don't move. I don't speak.
I just stand there, trying to understand what Cassian has just done to me.