Lord Cedric Vardane prided himself on his resilience, but even he couldn’t deny the betrayal of his body when a sudden fever struck him down. For a man who believed that illness was a sign of weakness, the situation was especially infuriating.

“I’ll be fine by morning,” Cedric grumbled, trying—and failing—to sit up in bed.

Elara, standing at his bedside with a mix of exasperation and amusement, raised an eyebrow. “Father, you couldn’t even walk across the room without looking like a drunken sailor. Do you really think you’ll manage an audience with the prince like this?”

“I don’t have a choice!” Cedric snapped, though his voice was hoarse and tired. “This meeting is of utmost importance. If I don’t go—”

“Then I will,” Elara interrupted matter-of-factly.

Cedric froze, his mouth slightly open as if he hadn’t heard her correctly. “You will... what?”

“I’ll go,” she repeated, arms crossed. “You can’t, and Kaelen isn’t here. Someone has to represent the family.”

Cedric’s groan was somewhere between despair and disbelief. “Elara, this is not a simple dinner party. This is a discussion of state matters. Do you have any idea what’s at stake?”

“Of course I do,” Elara said, tilting her head. “Which is why I’m offering to help. The issue is urgent, and you’ve always said I’m a quick learner. Plus, no one will even know it’s me.”

Cedric gave her a withering look. “You can’t seriously mean to—”

“To disguise myself as Kaelen? I absolutely do,” she said, a sly smile forming on her lips. “You’ve seen me before. And I’m good at it.”

“This is not one of your childish pranks!” Cedric barked, but his voice cracked, and the effort left him slumped against the pillows.

Elara softened her tone, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I know, Father. I know this is serious. But think about it—if you send a servant or a steward, it’ll look suspicious. If no one shows up, it’s a sign of disrespect. And Kaelen isn’t here to step in.”

Cedric frowned. “That boy... always disappearing when we need him.”

“Probably off chasing his next big adventure,” Elara muttered, shaking her head. “But that’s not the point. The point is that I can do this. I know Kaelen better than anyone, and I’ve studied the documents. I understand the issue.”

Cedric was silent for a long moment, staring at her with the stern gaze that had once reduced grown men to stammering. But Elara stared back, unflinching.

“If you’re caught...” he began.

“I won’t be,” she cut in. “No one pays attention to details unless they’re looking for them. I’ll keep it brief, formal, and convincing.”

He let out a long, weary sigh. “This is madness.”

“This is cleverness,” Elara corrected, a glint of mischief in her eye.

Despite himself, Cedric chuckled faintly before groaning at the strain it caused. “Fine,” he said at last. “But if you fail...”

“I won’t fail,” she assured him, standing. “Besides, don’t you want to know if the prince is as shrewd as they say? This is my chance to find out.”

Elara stood before the tall mirror in Kaelen's room. Wearing his clothes felt both foreign and exhilarating. The fine embroidery of the tunic clung to her frame, and the trousers slipped comfortably around her waist. She adjusted the dark hair that had been carefully tucked beneath a cap, transforming herself into a perfect likeness of her brother. But it wasn’t just a disguise; it was a shield, one that allowed her to step into a world she both wanted to escape and desperately wanted to confront.

Her father, the lord of their estate, lay ill in bed, plagued by some sudden fever that had taken hold of him within days. The court had summoned his presence urgently, knowing that noble alliances were in peril. With his absence, Elara realized that she could slip through the cracks, a fleeting ghost amongst the living. Yet, there was an impulsive thrill in the idea of confronting Prince Lucian, the very reason why she had secretly dreaded court affairs.

A part of her nagged at her conscience, telling her to avoid the complicated games of the court, the veiled threats, the hidden intentions. But there was another part—a bolder, reckless part—that urged her to face Lucian at last.

Inhaling deeply, Elara straightened her posture, ready to face whatever awaited her. She may have dressed as a man, but it was her courage and cunning that would carry her through this treacherous game—a game where the prize was not only her pride but the chance to finally confront the prince who had become an unexpected obsession. 

As she made her way through the dimly lit corridors of the estate, Elara couldn’t shake the feeling of exhilaration mixed with fear. “Kaelen,” she called, adopting her brother’s voice—a low and casual tone that dripped with confidence. “I’m ready.”