She dispatched Celia to the castle sparring grounds to seek him out, instructing her maid to whisper a request that the knight meet her near the South Stables at sundown.

The evening air was cooling when he finally arrived, catching Kat as she took what appeared to be a leisurely promenade along the hedgerows. Desperate to mask the forbidden flutter in her chest, Kat straightened her posture, maintaining her most composed, untouchable royal facade. Yet her composure fractured when the knight stepped into the lantern light, extending a beautifully bound bouquet of fresh pink roses.

“For Your Highness,” he murmured. Even as he dipped into a graceful bow, his eyes held hers, a brilliant, dangerous twinkle dancing in their depths.

A sudden heat rushed to Kat’s cheeks. His gaze had been growing bolder of late, as if he could see what she was thinking and found it very amusing. It was deeply unsettling. She looked down, praying the dimming twilight would hide her blush, but the low chuckle that escaped his lips told her she had failed.

“My thanks, Sir. They are… lovely,” she managed, steadying her voice as she accepted the stems. “However, I requested your presence strictly on a matter of business.”

“I am well aware,” he said with a smile, his gaze lingering on her face. She pointedly ignored his remark and pressed forward with her terms.

“I desire for Mili to see her family, so she does not feel entirely torn asunder from her life,” Kat explained. “I know the heavy toll that leaving her home has exacted upon her spirit. Since you hail from the Westlands, I thought that, should your duties call you home, I might provide you with sufficient royal coin to secure safe passage for her kin—perhaps her mother first. They could bide in the lower city for a week, allowing Mili to visit them in secret.”

“It is a noble venture, Your Highness, and I should be honored to assist,” Daniel replied, his tone softening. “I shall dispatch a missive to the Westlands to ascertain when such a journey might be safely undertaken, and align it with my own leave.”

Silence fell between them as Sir Daniel studied her thoughtfully. Then, he stepped closer—closer than any knight had a right to stand—and reached out his hand, his fingers brushing against her crown to pluck a stray bit of foliage from her thick brown waves.

“This was caught in your hair, Princess,” he murmured, holding out the leaf between his fingers.

Kat stared at the leaf, then met his gaze, her emerald eyes narrowing. To touch a princess of the blood was an offense that could strip a knight of his spurs, yet here, shielded by the clandestine shadows of the stables, he was deliberately testing her boundaries.

“You have grown very sure of yourself of late, Sir,” she said, her voice a low challenge as she tried to gauge the true depths of his mind.

“Is it truly unexpected to you?” he asked, pinning her with an intense, searching gaze.

She broke eye contact for just an instant, only to look right back up with a flash of proud defiance. This was not how it was supposed to be. Could he see right through her? Her stubborn expression slowly dissolved into a silent, pleading look—like a cornered doe summoning the breath she needed to tell him he had misread her.

He seemed to read her internal chaos like an open book, a faint, patient smile playing on his lips. He tilted his head downward, his eyes dropping to her mouth for a searing heartbeat before meeting her gaze once again.

“Katarina…” he finally whispered, the name a soft, chiding admonition.

Her name on his lips sent a shiver down her spine. For a final, fleeting second, she told herself the appropriate response would be to push him away with a sharp rebuke. Instead, she felt her eyes close as she tilted her face up just a fraction, her whole body taut like a drawn string.

Her telltale reaction stopped the laughter in his throat. A moment later, he leaned down and pressed his lips firmly against hers. Kat stood frozen, paralyzed by a shock that vibrated straight to her core, yet she did not pull away. The kiss was far too brief, stolen, and utterly breathless.

“Sir!” she gasped as he stepped back.

The knight did not indulge her performative shock; instead, he narrowed his eyes, and with a mild shake of his head, fixed her with a look that called her bluff without a single word.

“It is Daniel to you, my Princess,” he finally said, a boyish grin flashing across his face again, that insufferable dimple reappearing on his cheek. “Do not summon me to the dark for such heavy favors if you cannot at least repay me with a kiss in return.”

With a low, sweeping bow that felt simultaneously mocking and worshipful, the knight turned and melted back into the evening shadows, leaving Kat standing alone in the dark, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs.