I made it to the kitchen before my legs gave out.

It was warm in here—quiet. The kind of quiet that doesn’t accuse or demand. The scent of baking bread and warm fruit filled the air, thick with comfort. Morning light spilled through the high windows, glinting off copper pots that hung above the counters and casting long shadows across the tiled floor.

I sank onto one of the benches at the long prep table and reached for a strawberry scone still warm from the oven. I tore into it with my fingers, not caring about manners or crumbs or the sticky glaze smearing my lips. It was sweet and soft, and for a moment, the ache in my chest dulled.

“Destiny?”

I looked up, startled.

There, standing in the doorway with wide eyes and a lopsided smile, was Abigail.

Her bright orange hair was a wild halo around her pale face, freckles dusted across her nose like gold spatter on porcelain. She looked out of place in the castle’s gray stone, like a flicker of autumn that had blown in on accident.

“Abi?” I stood quickly, setting the scone down. “How did you even get in here?”

She shrugged, stepping forward and letting the heavy kitchen door close behind her. “My mom spoke to one of the guards. Said I could still visit you while you’re grounded. Something about keeping you ‘emotionally balanced,’ whatever that means.”

I didn’t wait. I crossed the space between us and hugged her tight.

“Gods, I missed you,” I whispered into her shoulder.

“Missed you too,” she said, hugging back just as tightly.

I sighed, slumping back onto the bench. “I really am sorry...I got in trouble with your mom and-"

“Correction,” she said, sitting beside me and stealing a bite of my scone, “I’m sorry. I should have shut my big mouth the whole time."

We sat there for a second in silence.

Then she looked at me, all teasing gone. “You shouldn’t have to fight this hard just to be yourself.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat.

“Thanks, Abi.”

“For what?”

“For still believing I’m more than the role they picked for me.”

She bumped her shoulder into mine, soft and solid.

“You really are."

We were halfway through a second scone—well, okay, Abi was halfway through my second scone—when the heavy kitchen door creaked open again.

I looked up, tensing instinctively.

It was Father.

He stood in the doorway like a man caught between two worlds—one where he ruled with order, the other where he once knew how to be a father. The expression on his face wasn’t angry. It wasn’t even stern.

It was tired. Soft, almost.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

My brows shot up. “You’re… what?”

He stepped further into the kitchen, the shadows of the hall trailing behind him like regrets.

“I didn’t want it to come to this. The marriage proposal. It wasn’t personal, Destiny. It was political. An agreement we’ve needed for years. Kail’s kingdom controls the southern pass—if we lose their favor, our trade routes are crippled. It wasn’t meant to be a betrayal.”

Abi glanced at me sideways, as if bracing for the explosion.

But he kept going.

“And for what it’s worth… the marriage wouldn’t happen right away. You’re not being sent off tomorrow.” He paused, then added, “Which is why I made another arrangement.”

I folded my arms. “What kind of arrangement?”

He looked at me carefully. “I’ve assigned you a knight.”

“A what?” I sat up straighter, already ready to argue.

“A personal guard,” he clarified. “Someone to train with you. Watch you. Help you learn how to protect yourself—properly. Not by sneaking into sacred grounds or stealing horses. If you want to fight for this kingdom, you’ll do it under supervision.”

My mouth was halfway open when Abi reached over and clamped her hand over it.

I gave her a glare.

She looked at my father and said sweetly, “She accepts. Happily.”

He arched a brow. “Does she?”

I peeled Abi’s hand off my face. “Fine,” I muttered. “But for the record, I’m only agreeing because I want to be trained. Not because I’m giving up.”

He gave me the smallest smile. “That’s fair.”

There was a pause—an awkward, fragile kind of silence. Then I shifted in my seat, guilt curling low in my stomach.

“I’m sorry,” I said finally. “For leaving. For… being reckless. I didn’t do it to shame you or the court. I just… I just wanted to prove I’m more than a name. I want to fight for this kingdom, not run from it.”

His eyes flickered—something like pain moving behind them. He stepped forward, placing a hand on the table near me.

“You’re more like your mother than you know,” he said. “She was fierce. Brave. And stubborn as stone. But she also knew that bravery means nothing without wisdom. You’ll need both if you’re going to lead.”

“I’m not sure I want to lead,” I admitted.

“You may not have the luxury of that choice,” he said quietly. “But one step at a time. The knight will arrive in a few hours. He’s... unorthodox, but skilled. I think you’ll like him.”

Abi shot me a sideways grin.

I groaned. “Is he another arrogant guy trying to get into my gown?”

Father gave me a look. “No. And don’t say things like that in front of visiting dignitaries. It’s uncouth.”

“You’re uncouth,” I mumbled.

He rolled his eyes—then, just for a second, he smiled like a real father again. “Be ready. He’ll find you when he arrives.”

And then he turned and left, his cloak brushing the floor behind him.

Abi nudged me with her elbow once he was gone. “So. A mysterious knight?”

“If he’s another Kail,” I muttered, “I swear to the stars I’m jumping out the window.”

“With those bars?” she laughed. “Good luck.”

We sat in silence a moment longer, picking at crumbs, wondering what kind of man was on his way—and whether he’d be the first person to actually see me.