“There are things I need to take care of in town. I’d like to visit one last time before I go.”

Lucian studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Elara held her ground, unfazed by his gaze.

Finally, a slow smirk tugged at his lips. “I see. This is not just about duty, but sentiment.”

Elara huffed lightly. “Sentiment, practicality—call it what you want. Either way, I need to go.”

His smirk deepened, as if amused by her defiance. “Very well. If you insist on making a farewell tour, I might as well accompany you.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I wasn’t exactly inviting you.”

Lucian’s chuckle was low and almost teasing. “Ah, but you did say I could come along. Something about getting to know the people outside the castle walls?”

Elara bit the inside of her cheek, realizing she had, in fact, left that opening. Damn it. Keeping her expression neutral, she lifted a shoulder. “Fine. If you’re that curious, then tag along. Just try not to act too much like a prince—people will stare.”

Lucian let out an amused hum. “I make no promises.”

Elara sighed. This is going to be a long day.

Garrick, Seraphina, Calder, and the other knights stared—some with surprise, others with barely concealed skepticism.

Was this truly the woman who was to become the prince’s fiancée?

Dressed in a simple, earth-toned tunic and fitted trousers, with sturdy boots laced up to her calves, Elara looked nothing like the noblewomen they were accustomed to. The slightly oversized cut of her tunic, along with the absence of any jewelry or embroidery, made her resemble a young boy preparing for an errand rather than a lady of status.

Garrick arched an eyebrow, unable to stop the amused glint in his eyes. This was unexpected. A noblewoman who dressed like a street urchin? He had fought beside countless knights, met women who carried daggers beneath their skirts, but never had he seen a highborn lady discard her title so effortlessly. His lips twitched, but he wisely kept his thoughts to himself.

Seraphina’s eyes narrowed slightly, though she said nothing. Calder exchanged a glance with one of the other knights, his expression unreadable.

Lucian, standing just a step away, remained silent—but his gaze lingered on Elara, taking in the details. He had expected practicality, but this level of disregard for noble presentation was something else entirely. Still, his face betrayed nothing, his expression remaining composed.

Elara, however, remained unfazed. She merely adjusted the strap of her satchel and turned her attention to the five knights standing beside Lucian in full armor.

She exhaled lightly before addressing the prince, keeping her tone polite.

“Your Highness,” she began smoothly, “I appreciate your presence, but do you intend to enter the marketplace like this?”

Lucian raised an eyebrow. “Is there an issue?”

Elara offered a small, diplomatic smile. “With all due respect, arriving with five fully armored knights might be… unsettling for the townspeople. The market is not a battlefield.” She gestured lightly to the gleaming pauldrons and the hilts of their weapons. “If Your Highness truly wishes to accompany me, perhaps a more inconspicuous approach would be appropriate?”

Lucian studied her for a moment before responding. “You are suggesting we disguise ourselves?”

“A more modest appearance would be enough,” she clarified, her tone still carefully composed. “No royal crests, no formal attire. It would also be safer if fewer people recognized you.”

Garrick’s amusement deepened, though he kept his face neutral. She’s bold, I’ll give her that. Few people dared to give the prince instructions, yet here she was, doing so with a composed, unwavering tone.

Lucian’s gaze remained steady before he finally relented with a sigh. “Change into civilian clothing.”

The knights exchanged glances before nodding, moving to shed their armor in favor of simpler attire.

Lucian, meanwhile, removed his ornate coat, revealing a crisp, cream-colored linen shirt beneath. He rolled up his sleeves with practiced ease, leaving only the subtle embroidery at the cuffs as a faint reminder of his status. Even in plain clothes, his presence was undeniable—his posture, the effortless way he carried himself, the way the sunlight caught the sharp angles of his face and the depth of his gaze.

Despite wearing nothing extravagant, he still stood out, his aura impossible to dull.

Elara, on the other hand, was the complete opposite; she looked just like any ordinary town boy. If she chose to keep her hood up, she could likely pass through the marketplace unnoticed.

After a few moments, he glanced at her.

“Is this to your satisfaction?” His voice was measured, but there was a trace of something in his tone—curiosity, perhaps amusement.

Elara folded her arms and gave him a side glance. “It’s much better,” she admitted, pleased that they weren’t causing a scene. Still, her voice carried the same composed politeness as before.

And yet—

She found herself stealing another look at him.

With his formal coat gone, the light-colored linen shirt he wore seemed almost… too casual. The rolled-up sleeves exposed the sharp definition of his forearms, and the loose fabric draped just enough to make him seem less like a prince and more like…

Her mind flickered, unbidden, to a distant memory.

A man in the wild field, standing at ease with the wind in his hair, the fabric of his shirt rippling lightly. She had only caught a glimpse from afar, but the unbothered grace, the effortless way he had carried himself…

Her fingers curled slightly. Could it have been him?

She cast a brief glance at his profile, but Lucian remained as composed as ever, completely unaware of the thought creeping into her mind.

No. It couldn’t be. Could it?