Daniel let out a low laugh that echoed softly off the timbered shelves.

“Then I shall remain by your side, my Princess. Although it would cause quite a stir if I strictly looked at you all the time.” He paused, a wicked thought dancing in his eyes. “In return, perhaps you might favor me by throwing a hooded glance my way during the changing of the guard, if only to let me know I still occupy a corner of your thoughts.”

A sudden, fierce glare lit behind Kat’s eyes at his words. Who was playing coy now? Her expression turned playfully accusatory despite herself. Daniel watched the quicksilver shift in her features, his own amused smile stretching across his lips. Then, his gaze shifted to the volumes laid out in front of her.

“I apologize,” he murmured. “You clearly bear an immense burden upon your shoulders at present. I ought not to have troubled your peace.”

“Yes, Sir, you should stop troubling my peace,” Katarina said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“And you, mine.” His lips curled into a smile. He slowly released her face and stepped back, though his gaze remained anchored to hers. “When these grueling examinations are behind you, could we perhaps meet once more by the South Stables? I give you my knightly word that I will demand no steep price as I did before. I simply desire to ride through the timber columns with you for an evening.”

Kat smiled, her emerald eyes twinkling despite her exhaustion. “I should like that above all things, Sir. My trials will be concluded within the fortnight. I shall dispatch Celia to the yard with a missive when the hour is safe.”

Daniel stood, dipping into a low, elegant bow. Before he turned back into the shadows, he leaned down one final time, pressing a light, chaste kiss to the crown of her head.

“Good night, Katarina.”

“Good night, Sir,” she murmured.

As his footsteps faded into the vast silence of the Lexicon, a strange, abiding calm settled over Kat’s heart.

During their encounter in the stables, he had been a creature of bold demands and raw desire, and her own treacherous body had been all too eager to answer his call. But tonight, she had witnessed the true tenderness in his feelings for her—his willingness to elevate her peace above his own longings—and it made her feel steady.

He was not merely a dangerous distraction, nor was he simply answering a call of lust. A sense of quiet control returned to her; she understood his heart a little better now, and her own. Feeling lighter, the Princess dipped her quill once more and returned to her scrolls.

◆ ◆ ◆ ◆

Katarina soared through the grand apprentice examinations, performing with a precision and ardor that far exceeded the requirements for a simple pass.

Alisander proudly let her know that upon reviewing the transcripts of her practical trials, Archanatomist Cledwyn had personally sought an audience with the King. He had reported that regardless of the Crown’s ultimate intentions for the Princess’s scholarship, she had embraced the craft with profound earnestness; whether she ever drew the knife in independent practice or not, such stellar execution spoke of a remarkably brilliant and disciplined mind.

Then Alisander proceeded to announce the details of Kat’s performance to the whole court—so pleased was he with his eldest daughter. The proclamation seemed to leave a portion of the nobility befuddled, perhaps unable to fathom why a princess in direct line for the throne required a master’s trade, let alone why she should seek to excel in it. Others, however, cheered as they would for any display of royal prowess.

Katarina blushed furiously under the sudden scrutiny, but her embarrassment melted when she caught sight of Celesta at the rear of the hall; her younger sister let out a sharp, unroyal hoot of cheer before instantly ducking back down into pristine courtly composure, causing their nearby friends to stifle their laughter.

Kat stole a quick glance toward the ranks of the guard and found Sir Daniel clapping alongside the rest. His dark eyes were fixed upon her face, and the quiet, amused twitch at the corner of his lips told her he could see right through her regal mask to the mortification beneath.

Within the turn of a few days, a safe occasion finally presented itself. Kat dispatched the long-awaited missive, bidding the knight join her for a ride among the wooded columns extending behind the South Stables. She instructed him to wait within the deeper eaves of the grove at twilight to escape the notice of the watch.

Because these particular woods sat adjacent to the Princess’s wing of the keep, far from the bustling state quarters of the castle, the King deliberately kept the patrols sparse to grant his daughters a measure of privacy. The early autumn evenings stretched long and heavy with amber light, making them perfect for a secret rendezvous.

Celia returned from the yards almost immediately, bearing a brief, affirmative token from the knight. Ever the fiercely loyal servant, the maid spent the afternoon pleading with the Princess to exercise the utmost caution, yet her fastidious hands never wavered. She meticulously dressed and wove Kat’s rich brown hair into intricate, beautiful braids.

Even as she helped Kat don a servant’s simple linen shift, Celia insisted on layering it with a handsome, well-fitted leather riding habit.

“I cannot let my Princess go out looking drab to meet a gentleman who brings such a spectacular sparkle to her eyes,” the maid muttered while fussing over Kat.

Kat laughed softly at the maid’s hovering anxiety. “It is as though you are the one venturing out to meet a favored suitor, Celia. Take a few deep breaths, my dear.”

“It is the same to my heart, Your Highness, whether it is your step or my own walking into the dark,” Celia replied, smoothing the leather over Kat’s shoulders. She paused, a sudden wave of propriety catching her. “I beg your indulgence if I have spoken out of turn, my Princess.”

“You have not,” Kat said gently, touched by the girl’s devotion.

Celia took Kat’s hands, looking directly into her eyes with absolute earnestness. “Your Highness… I beg you, do not engage in the unlaced dance. We cannot afford a whisper of scandal to touch your name.”

Celia’s vivid phrasing provoked a sharp laugh from Kat. “I give you my promise, Celia. I shall not,” she reassured her.

Slipping quietly down to the South Stables, Kat readied her favorite bay steed and guided her out into the shadowed rows of trees. She urged the horse into a brisk gallop through the timber columns, and before long, she came upon Sir Daniel waiting patiently upon his own great mount.

The sheer freedom to look upon him openly, without the suffocating constraints of the court or the fear of listening ears, washed over Kat like a breath of fresh air. She noted immediately that he did not approach her with the boldness he had displayed during their previous encounter by the stables; instead, his features were softened by a quiet blend of protectiveness, concern, and delight at seeing her.