In less than half a day, the entire city of Selucia was abuzz with the news.

Lord Shaw had long been enamored with Princess Arabella. When he learned that she was being forced into a marriage abroad, he made a bold decision—he pushed his younger sister, Lady Celeste, into taking her place.

"Lady Celeste was but a beggar once. If it weren't for Lord Shaw's charity, there wouldn't even be a Lady Celeste in the Shaw household."

"I hear she harbored feelings for her own brother. How shameless! No wonder Lord Shaw grew to despise her."

Nearly everyone applauded the turn of events, and the streets were filled with tales of Lord Shaw's undying devotion to Princess Arabella.

It was then, amidst the gossip, that memories long buried began to resurface.

Alexander had always been distant, reserved in both manner and emotion. It was rare for me to see him smile.

But everything changed when Princess Arabella entered his life.

I had only watched from afar, but the sight of them together stirred an unfamiliar bitterness in my chest, spreading through me like a slow, creeping ache.

"Alexander," Princess Arabella had once asked, her voice light and teasing, "everyone says Lady Celeste is one of the most accomplished women in Selucia City. Do you admire her too, like the others?"

Hearing this, I had stopped in my tracks, hidden just out of sight. I held my breath, waiting for his reply.

Alexander's answer came swiftly. "You must be joking, Your Highness. She's merely my sister.

"She could never compare to you, not in the slightest."

But Princess Arabella didn't stop there. "Tell me, Alexander, have you ever had feelings for her? Romantic feelings?"

My heart was pounding in my chest, each beat filled with anticipation and dread.

They said Princess Arabella was unorthodox, but I had always thought those were just rumors. Now, I wasn't so sure.

But before I could entertain any further thoughts, Alexander's cold words shattered the fleeting hope inside me, dousing it like cold water on a flame.

"Never," he said firmly, his voice sharp with disgust. "I would never stoop so low as to entertain such an improper notion."

At that moment, hiding behind the wall, it felt as though my heart had stopped.

My face burned with shame, as if I'd been slapped. The humiliation was unbearable.

I fled, stumbling over my own feet in my haste. I tripped and fell, my knees scraping against the rough stone, blood seeping through my skirts.

Later that night, Alexander came to my room.

I turned my back on him, refusing to face him, unwilling even to call him "brother."

The room was silent. Not a sound could be heard.

In the past, Alexander would have coaxed me with gentle words, but now, I could only think of his earlier words. The scene replayed in my mind, and tears flowed uncontrollably, soaking my pillow.

"Are you crying?"

His voice came from behind me, quiet and clear. It startled me.

I turned to look at him, surprised. "I thought you'd already left."

Alexander said nothing. He stepped forward, scooping me up effortlessly and placing me gently on the bed. He knelt beside me, lifting my skirt to inspect the wound on my knee.

His brows furrowed as he saw the swollen, bloody scrape.

"Why are you always so careless?"

I bit my lip, trying to hold back the tears. My voice trembled as I spoke, "This has nothing to do with you."

He didn't respond but continued to carefully clean my wound.

As he worked, I watched him, my gaze lingering on his face, lost in thought. I barely noticed my own staring.

"What are you looking at?"

Alexander cleared his throat awkwardly, catching my gaze with his own. His eyes flickered, betraying a brief moment of uncertainty.

Embarrassed, I quickly turned my head away, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks.

I was grateful for the cover of the night.

Alexander tilted his head, his tone shifting as he asked, "Why are you angry?"

It seemed he wasn't letting me off for ignoring him earlier.

I lowered my head, unwilling to answer.

If he discovered my true feelings for him, would he see me as shameless, disgusting even?

When I remained silent, Alexander leaned in, his presence pressing closer. I could feel his breath against my skin, the warmth of his body making me retreat further until I had no choice but to meet his gaze.

A tear slipped down my cheek.

Before I could react, the world darkened as Alexander's hand covered my eyes.

"Rest," he murmured softly, his voice dropping to a low, husky whisper near my ear.

There was something dangerous in his tone, something that sent a shiver down my spine.

From that day onward, I began to distance myself from Alexander.

But what I didn't realize was that my hidden feelings had already been laid bare for all to see.

My thoughts returned to the present, and before I knew it, Alexander was standing before me, looking down at me with his usual cold gaze.

I glanced up, accidentally locking eyes with him, and a shiver ran through me.

He spoke, his voice steady, "Prepare yourself. You'll be accompanying me to the autumn hunt in a few days."

In previous years, I had always accompanied Alexander on the autumn hunts. But this year, I was determined not to go. I planned to feign illness, hoping to excuse myself, but before long, Alexander brought the royal physician to my chambers.

He gazed at me, his eyes betraying a fleeting hint of amusement. "What ails you? You can tell me."

I had never been good at lying, and now, trapped under his scrutiny, my eyes reddened slightly. Finally, Alexander dismissed the servants, leaving just the two of us alone in the room.

"Brother, I'd like to rest," I said, retreating half a step toward the bed, pretending to be fatigued.

Seeing my resistance, Alexander seemed poised to say something but held back. "Very well, have some rest," he said before turning to leave.

As soon as he was gone, potions and tonics began to flood into my room as though they were on a schedule. Cornered, I had no choice but to announce that my health had miraculously recovered.

"If that's the case, you'll accompany me on the hunt," Alexander replied with a rare smile, the corners of his lips slightly upturned. His mood seemed noticeably improved, though I couldn't help but wonder if it was just my imagination.