The words came out quicker than I meant them to, like a fireball shot from my chest. Abigail froze mid-step, her curls bouncing slightly as she turned to me. Her freckled face twisted into a look of sheer horror. I braced myself.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” she shrieked, clutching the sides of her gown like the idea alone was going to drag her straight to hell. “Destiny, no. Absolutely not. That’s—like—that’s top-level stupid. That place is *for saints*, knights, and saintesses! Not bored little princesses who want to cosplay as warriors!”

I rolled my eyes and waved a hand dismissively. “Please. We’ll be in and out. No one will even know we were there. I just... I want to see it. That’s where my mother lived before she married my father, Abi. She trained there. It’s part of who I am.”

Abigail crossed her arms. “And it’s far. Like *really* far. That’s a half-day trip by foot. We’ll get caught, or cursed, or lost—or eaten by the gods for trespassing or something!”

“We’re not walking.” I smirked.

She blinked. “Wait. What?”

“We’re taking a horse.”

“You... have *got* to be—Destiny, I don’t know how to ride!”

“Then we’ll ride the same one,” I said, already turning toward the stables. “We’ll be fine.”

When we reached the stables, Abigail stopped dead in her tracks.

“That’s Prince Kail’s horse!” she hissed, pointing a shaky finger at the tall, sleek black stallion with a glint of silver in his mane.

“I know,” I said cheerfully. “My horse Lilah isn’t feeling well.”

“Do you *want* him to throw us off a cliff?”

“He’ll never know,” I said, swinging myself up onto Finley’s back. “Now hop on.”

Abigail muttered several things under her breath that were *definitely* not fit for a lady before climbing up behind me, arms tightly wrapped around my waist like I was her last lifeline.

And then—we were off.

The wind blew through my curls as the castle disappeared behind us, and for the first time in weeks, I felt free. Really *free*. The kind of free where you forget what you’re supposed to be. Where you forget the itchy dresses, the boring balls, the perfect sisters, and the kings with too many opinions. Just me, my best friend, and a stolen horse on the way to a place no one dared to go.

By the time we arrived, the sun was hanging low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the Temple. I gasped.

It was massive. Ivory stone walls stretched toward the heavens, crowned with spires that gleamed in the fading light. Vines of silverleaf wound around the pillars, and marble statues of knights and gods stood guard at the gates. The air smelled like old parchment and burning incense.

Abigail made a small noise behind me. “Eh. My castle’s bigger.”

I laughed. “You’re impossible.”

We dismounted and climbed the iron gate (which took a little longer than we planned—thank you, fancy ballgowns). Once inside, we walked up the long stone steps until we stood before the enormous oak doors.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out a thin piece of wire. Abigail stared at me.

“Where the *hell* did you get that?”

“Uncle Varn gave it to me.”

“Of course he did.”

The lock clicked open after a few tries, and the door creaked inward.

Inside, it was... hauntingly beautiful. The hallway was lit with flickering candles, the flames casting dancing shadows on portraits of Greek gods—Zeus, Athena, Ares—some statues too. Everything was clean. Too clean. Like someone had just dusted it all that morning.

Abigail frowned. “This is really weird. Where’s all the guards? And why are the candles lit?”

I shrugged. “Maybe they forgot to blow them out.”

“I doubt that.”

“Just help me find the training grounds,” I said, ignoring her scowl as I started opening doors.

We searched for a while—passing by old chapels, prayer rooms, a massive library. Finally, I heard Abigail’s voice echo down the hall.

“Destiny! Over here!”

I ran toward her and stepped into a grand office that looked like it belonged to a king from 1670. Thick red velvet curtains, golden candlesticks, shelves full of books bound in dragonhide, and a giant mahogany desk at the center. It smelled like cinnamon and old leather.

“Whose office is this?” I asked, walking up to the desk.

Abigail squinted at the golden plate. “General White.”

“Weird,” I said. “I wonder if I can—wait.”

I slid behind the desk and turned on the computer. The screen blinked to life.

“Destiny, *no*!”

“I can just add my name to the trainee database,” I said, already typing.

“Destiny!”

She grabbed my hands. “This is going too far. We need to *go*.”

But before I could even roll my eyes or argue—

The door creaked open.

We both froze.

And then... he stepped in.

He was tall, with long white hair pulled into a ponytail that fell over one shoulder. His skin was scarred and weathered, with a deep cut over his lip and a pale blind eye that stared straight ahead like it could still see your soul. His good eye was a stormy grey, darker than thunderclouds. His uniform, navy and gold, fit like it was sewn to his bones.

He looked at us like we were two rats that had scurried into his private study.

“Well, well...” His voice was low and rough, like gravel in a steel bucket. “Would someone kindly explain why there are two royal brats in my office?”

Abigail folded instantly. “I-I’m so sorry! I told her not to—Destiny made me! I didn’t even want to come, I swear on my mother’s grave, which isn’t even dug yet!”

I sighed loudly.

The man scoffed, walking toward us with slow, deliberate steps. He stopped at the desk, crossing his arms.

“Names,” he demanded.

Abigail straightened up and blurted, “Princess Destiny Lurchester and Lady Abigail Kano.”

He nodded once. Then, without a word, he closed the laptop... and looked up.

I followed his gaze.

A small black camera sat in the corner of the ceiling.

He narrowed his one good eye.

“You’re not very good thieves,” he said coldly, “and you’re *terrible* liars.”

I felt my stomach drop.

Shit.