"Do you want to get out of here?"
Adam’s eyes scanned the hall lazily, though I could tell it was more calculated than it looked. They roved past the glittering chandeliers, the long tables heavy with fruits and wine, the crowd swaying to the music. And then they landed back on me, catching me in that way of his.
His brow rose when I tilted my head slightly, not answering at once.
I shrugged lightly, as though he’d asked me the most ridiculous question. "Where do you want to take me? And before you wear your gallivanting gear, let me make one thing very clear—I am not interested in sleeping with you tonight."
My mouth curled. "Or ever."
But if anything, the smirk deepened, not at all deterred. "You keep denying the chemistry between us," he said, voice low, as though we weren’t surrounded by a hundred drunken guests.
"That’s because there is no chemistry between us," I snapped back, halting where I stood–no more dancing. "None. Zero. Zilch."
Don’t these people ever get tired of dancing? Didn’t they ever crave the sharpness of the night air instead of this suffocating sweetness?
"You know what," I muttered, cutting the thought off before it soured me completely, "let’s step out. I need air."
Adam didn’t argue. He released me without complaint, falling into step at my side as I wove my way through the throng. Eyes turned, whispers trailed, but I ignored them all, only pausing near the doors.
She was across the room, watching me with her arms folded. Her brows arched when she caught sight of Adam beside me. Where are you going? she mouthed, her eyes narrowing.
I smiled faintly and mouthed back, Air.
She gave me a double thumbs-up, then added two little gestures for be careful. Typical Diana. She was still with Raul.
I nodded in reply, rolling my eyes fondly before I let Adam lead me through the wide doors into the waiting night.
The night wrapped around me like a balm. Cool, crisp, and threaded with the faintest scent of damp earth, it felt alive against my skin after the stifling heat of the ballroom.
The palace gardens opened before us, bathed in silver light from the full moon. The air was sweet with crushed grass and faint blossoms—roses, lilacs, and some pale flowers I couldn’t name that trembled gently under the touch of the breeze.
Somewhere distant, water lapped in a fountain, the trickle blending with the occasional chirp of a night bird. The stone paths gleamed faintly, scattered with fallen petals that glowed faintly under the stars. A few trees dotted the grounds, tall sentinels that swayed gently, their leaves whispering secrets to each other.
It was...pleasant. Almost painfully so. Every inhale was a relief, every exhale, release. The stillness settled something restless in me, though Adam’s presence made sure my heart didn’t quite slow.
I tilted my face to the sky, where the stars glittered like shards of glass scattered carelessly across black velvet. Compared to the hall, compared to the Queen’s eyes, compared to the weight of expectations inside, this—this was freedom. Chapters fırst released on Nov3lFɪre.ɴet
But freedom had its own dangers, and mine walked beside me.
Adam looked different under the moonlight. The sharp edges of his arrogance softened, not gone but cloaked in silver, like the trees and the stones. His hair, dark as ink, caught threads of starlight when he turned his head. His eyes were restless things, pale and bright, like storm-clouds caught reflecting fire.
And his face—gods help me, his face. I hated admitting it, even silently, but there was a beauty to it that went beyond symmetry. It was the kind that made your pulse stumble when he looked your way, the kind that felt both reckless and inevitable.
I didn’t want to notice. But the night betrayed me. It framed him like a painting, and when his gaze finally caught mine, I forgot the clever retort on my tongue.
My lips parted, but nothing came out.
We walked in silence for a while, the gravel crunching faintly underfoot. The air, the gardens, the stars—all of it was perfect enough to quiet even my restless mind. Almost.
Until voices broke the stillness.
At first, I thought it was laughter carried from the hall. But then came the unmistakable sound of a muffled gasp, followed by the clumsy shuffle of feet behind a hedgerow.
Adam slowed, eyes flicking toward the sound. I followed his gaze.
And then we saw them.
Two figures, tangled together in the shadows, pressed against a stone wall half-hidden by ivy. A man and a woman, their arms wound so tightly around each other it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began. Their lips moved feverishly, breaking only to gasp before crashing together again.
"Oh gods," I whispered, covering my mouth, though laughter was already spilling through my fingers.
The woman squeaked in alarm when she spotted us, her hair falling loose around flushed cheeks. The man straightened immediately, looking like a boy caught stealing honey cakes.
"Oh the goddess!" the woman exclaimed, shoving him back before staring at us timidly.
Adam bowed slightly, the picture of mock chivalry. "Forgive us. We were merely passing."
I clutched my sides, laughter tumbling out at the absurdity of it all. "Sorry! We didn’t mean to intrude—please, continue your...uh...important discussions."
"We are sorry, my prince!" The man stammered something unintelligible next, then grabbed the woman’s hand and hurried away, their steps half-running back toward the main hall. Her voice, still indignant, trailed behind them.
As soon as they vanished, I doubled over with laughter, unable to hold it in. "But—" I gasped, "is it a crime to make out in a corner of the palace?"
Adam’s chuckle joined mine, warm and rich. "I don’t think so. It’s not in the laws. But then, we also don’t exactly encourage people to make out in the royal gardens."
I shook my head, wiping a tear from my eye. The laughter left me lighter, freer, almost giddy. For the first time that evening, I wasn’t thinking about traps, crowns, or politics. I was simply laughing.
I tried to steady myself, still chuckling when Adam veered suddenly toward another path. My laughter faded as I realized he was taking me toward something else—a smaller structure, tucked away at the edge of the gardens.
"What’s that?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at the building. It looked like a hall, though smaller, quieter.
"A hall," Adam replied, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"For what? Do you lot just build halls for fun?"
He shrugged, his expression unreadable in the shadows. "Maybe. Does it matter? It’s empty." He glanced at me, and there it was again—that infuriating glint. "Let’s go in. We can have time to talk. And you can have the chance to stare at me all you want."
I snorted. "You must think very highly of yourself. Besides, you’re the one always staring at me."
"Whatever, Dora." He reached the door, pushing it open with the ease of someone who never second-guessed himself. Then he gestured toward me, his tone casual. "Whatever floats your boat."