"Reinstate the summit?" I blurted out, unable to hide the surprise in my voice. 

Was he being serious?

"That decision rests with the King, not with me."

"True," Leandro conceded, a glint of strategy in his eyes, "but the King’s decision is hardly his alone. It pivots on the counsel of his five advisors. Each one is from a powerful noble house. Currently, the council is split.” He paused, letting the words settle, his gaze holding mine in an unspoken challenge. “Two against while there are two in favor, and one yet undecided. Help me sway the final advisor."

"How am I supposed to sway the final..." My breath hitched as the pieces began to click into place. "The Marquess."

"Exactly." The hint of victory in Leandro's eyes sharpened, and I felt a shiver travel down my spine. He watched me intently, and I could almost feel the weight of my mind working to process this revelation. "It’s a pleasure to see the gears turning so swiftly in that keen mind of yours," he murmured, his voice a low, teasing caress that slid over me like silk.

I straightened, pushing back against his smugness, my heart racing more in defiance than fear. "Understanding your schemes is one matter; agreeing to them is another," I replied, lifting my chin. "What makes you believe I hold any influence over the Marquess?"

Leandro’s expression grew almost predatory, a calculated gleam lighting his gaze as he paced before me. "Now that you have spent time at the Kildare estate,  you must have noticed how much the Marquess cherished your mother above all," he said, his voice a measured, deliberate whisper. "Even when Lady Brigid scorned tradition for love, he held hope for her—so much so that he refused to name Alaric his heir." His words slipped through the air, coiling around me like smoke.

Wrapping my arms around myself, I fought the discomfort crawling under my skin, a discomfort only heightened by how detached Leandro sounded, as if my family's history and pain were nothing more than a tactic in his arsenal.

"Lady Brigid is gone now," he continued, undeterred by my reaction, "and you—her daughter—are the proxy to carry the weight of his dreams. You wield far more influence over him than you realize."

I lifted my gaze, a challenge lighting my eyes as I met his. "You’re suggesting I exploit my grandfather’s grief?" My voice was sharp, daring him to push further.

Leandro stopped pacing and gave me a look of feigned innocence, though a sly smile tugged at his lips. "Exploit is a harsh word. I am simply stating what I observe. And since your arrival, it has been clear to see that the Marquess has favored you in ways he never did, Alaric."

"Are these simply observations you made or manipulations you have concocted your Highness?" I shot back, my tone a snap in the library’s stillness.

"Perceptions," he corrected smoothly, his smile widening ever so slightly.

"Fine. Say I consider this… alliance," I countered, shifting tactics. "Why should I care if the summit is reinstated? What difference does it make to me?"

His eyes glinted with something incomprehensible as he stepped closer, the space between us shrinking. "Your words at lunch were telling, Lady Luciana," he said, his voice a soft murmur as he closed the remaining distance between us. "You spoke of fair trade with Elaris, of  prioritizing another nation's prosperity over personal profit."

"Any decent person would want peace," I shot back, cheeks heating with the closeness of his body. 

"True," he replied with a rumbling chuckle that resonated through me. "But not everyone would dare say such things openly, especially in front of royalty and counselors whose goals veer in the opposite direction."

His gaze never left mine, intense, calculating. "Your courage to speak truth to power shows wisdom beyond your years," he continued, his voice a shade softer as he leaned closer. His breath brushed my cheek, warm and unsettling. "That’s the spirit I seek in an ally."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Prince," I managed, my voice steady even as his proximity set my heart racing.

"You see the heart of the matter," he pressed, his voice echoing faintly in the vaulted library. "You value peace over riches, negotiation over force. Admirable qualities, but they will not win you favor with those who profit from war when you inherit the marquessate."

I followed his gaze to the high library windows, light casting sharp lines across the room. I stayed silent, turning over his words, my thoughts colliding and spinning.

Leandro’s voice slipped back into my awareness, his tone almost coaxing. "Having the support of the second prince of the nation could prove… valuable. Asking your grandfather to support the summit is hardly a high price compared to what you could gain."

I felt his gaze linger, every inch of it weighing my reaction. "But what assurance do I have that aligning with you is in my best interest?" I asked finally, my tone as frank as I could muster. "Would the future king not make a stronger ally?"

For the barest second, something flashed across his face—a brief flicker of anger before he smoothed it away. "Perhaps," he said, his tone laced with faint sarcasm. "But with Prince Sterling and Alaric’s history, I doubt you’d receive a warm welcome into their faction."

His words stung, the taste of political realities bitter on my tongue. I straightened, meeting his gaze with resolve. "I’ll need time to think this over," I replied, each word calm despite the storm raging inside me.

"You have two months," he said, his tone resolute. "That’s when the Marquess is expected to finalize his vote."

"Two months?" I felt the shock in my voice. Could I sway the Marquess in so little time—especially given how little I knew of the Vesper Summits?

Leandro’s eyes held a flicker of amusement as he read my hesitation. "If you agree, you’ll have unrestricted access to this library," he offered as if sensing my dilemma. "Every document, every record on the summit, and more. All the knowledge you need."

His words hung between us, their gravity settling over me. The chance to study the arcane, to understand political secrets—but at what cost?

Just then, an attendant appeared, emerging quietly from the depths of the library. "My Lady, the Marquess awaits you."

I shot one last glance at the shelves, feeling the pull of their knowledge, but reluctantly nodded. Leandro followed as we moved through the corridors, his presence a shadow at my side, quiet and watchful.

As the carriage came into view, gleaming green under the moonlight, my grandfather was waiting nearby, deep in conversation with a man in a knight’s uniform.

"That’s the captain of the Knights Order, Sir Rhael," Leandro explained, his voice barely above a whisper. Then, turning to me, he extended his hand, offering to help me into the carriage.

"Thank you for the… tour," I replied, accepting his hand, though skepticism coated my words.

With a hint of unexpected gallantry, he lifted my hand to his lips, his breath warm against my skin. His dark and intense eyes met mine, promising something both dangerous and thrilling.

"While you consider my proposal," he murmured, each word a silken thread of intrigue, "I’ll do my best to show you why a ‘yes’ is in your favor."

"Your confidence is as misplaced as it is entertaining," I replied, pulling my hand back, not entirely immune to the effect of his charm.

"Confidence," he said, stepping back with a sly smile, "is simply the armor worn by those who understand the game. Weigh my offer carefully, Luciana Kildare. Your choice may alter our kingdom’s fate."

I hesitated as I climbed into the carriage, his words echoing in my mind. Looking back, I held his gaze, steeling my own resolve. "Very well, Your Highness. But be warned—I am not easily swayed."

Leandro’s laugh rolled out, genuine and rich, a rare hint of unguarded amusement. "Ah, Lady Luciana, that’s precisely why I am looking forward to our next encounter."

The Marquess concluded his conversation and joined me in the carriage, nodding briefly at Leandro.

As the carriage door closed, sealing us in, I couldn’t help but wonder what secrets lay beneath Leandro’s confident smile, what hidden motives he might cloak in charm and wit. A player, indeed. But whether he viewed me as a pawn or a queen, only time would tell.