The palace gates closed behind them with a sound like a cage locking shut.
Samara did not look back. She did not need to. She could feel the weight of the walls pressing in around her, the eyes of the guards following her, the whispers already spreading through the corridors.
She was back.
Caelion walked beside her, close enough that his arm brushed hers. But he did not take her hand. He did not touch her. In the torchlight of the palace, he was the unnamed prince again, and she was just a maid.
No one would know what had happened in the forest.
No one would see the mark on her shoulder.
No one would guess that he had carried her through the darkness, that he had called her mine, that he had promised her a punishment she did not yet understand.
They walked in silence.
Servants pressed themselves against the walls as they passed. Guards lowered their eyes. No one spoke. No one dared.
