**Chapter Five: Thorns Beneath the Crown**
There were rules in the palace.
Unspoken ones. Sharp ones. The kind that cut when you broke them.
By the end of my fourth day as Princess Consort, I had already learned some the hard way.
Rule One: Never walk the halls alone after dusk.
Rule Two: Never speak to the Queen Mother unless spoken to.
Rule Three: Never—under any circumstances—enter the North Wing.
So of course, I broke the third rule before the week was over.
It started with a simple mistake.
I had gotten lost.
Again.
The palace was a maze of identical corridors, heavy doors, and twisting staircases. Even with a map Elira had drawn for me, I still managed to get turned around on my way back from the royal library.
I took a wrong turn.
Passed two identical portraits.
Then another hallway I didn't recognize.
And there it was—a set of tall, arched doors draped in black velvet. Unmarked. Silent.
The North Wing.
Forbidden.
I should have turned back.
I didn't.
Something about the stillness of that corridor called to me. The way the light didn't quite reach the corners. The way even the guards avoided it.
I stepped forward.
Just one peek, I told myself.
Just one glance.
The door creaked open slowly under my fingers. Cold air rushed out to greet me, carrying with it the scent of dust and something metallic. The hall beyond was dark, lined with cracked paintings and shattered statues. Like a different world entirely.
I took one step in.
Then another.
And then—
"What do you think you're doing?"
The voice snapped through the silence like a whip.
I spun around, heart leaping into my throat.
Lorenzo.
He stood a few feet away, his face carved in shadow, but his eyes—those storm-gray eyes—burned like fire.
"I was just—"
"Disobeying," he cut in.
My throat tightened. "I didn't know I—"
"Yes, you did."
He crossed the distance between us in three long strides and grabbed my wrist, not painfully—but firmly.
"Come with me. Now."
I didn't argue. I couldn't.
He didn't say a word as he dragged me down the hall, through two turns, up one flight of stairs, and into his study.
The door slammed behind us.
"I gave you one command," he hissed. "One."
"I was lost!"
"You went into the North Wing," he growled. "No one goes there. Not even the staff."
"Why?"
Silence.
He turned his back to me, running a hand through his hair.
"Because that part of the palace is cursed," he said finally, voice low. "Because that is where my father died."
I froze.
"I didn't know."
"Now you do."
He turned to face me again. "Do you want to survive here, Zara?"
"Yes."
"Then stop testing me."
I took a breath. "You keep telling me to be strong. But you don't let me ask questions. You expect me to obey you like a servant."
"I expect you to survive," he snapped. "And that means following the rules."
"Even the ones soaked in blood?"
His eyes darkened. "Especially those."
The room fell silent.
He moved past me to the table where a decanter of dark wine waited. He poured himself a glass and downed it in one gulp.
"You remind me of her," he muttered.
"Who?"
"My mother."
I blinked.
"She was fierce," he continued. "Too fierce for this palace. She wore the crown, but it never fit her. She tried to change things."
"What happened to her?"
"She died."
My stomach twisted. "Did someone kill her?"
"Not with a sword," he said bitterly. "But they destroyed her all the same. With gossip. With betrayal. With silence."
He looked at me then, his expression unreadable.
"That's why I don't believe in love. That's why I protect what's mine by control, not affection."
I swallowed hard. "And I'm what's yours?"
"You wear the crown, don't you?"
I wanted to hate him. I really did.
But for the first time, I saw something in his eyes that wasn't ice.
It was pain.
Buried deep. Covered in armor.
But still there.
"I'm not her," I said softly. "I don't want to change the world. I just want to survive it."
"Good," he replied. "Because here, even survival is a privilege."
* * *
The next morning, whispers followed me everywhere.
"She went to the North Wing."
"They said His Highness found her there."
"Is she trying to get herself exiled?"
I kept my head high as I passed through the halls. My spine was straight, my expression blank. Just like I'd been taught.
But inside, I was still shaking.
When I returned to my room, Elira was waiting with a strange look on her face.
"What?" I asked.
She held up a thin box.
"From the Prince."
I opened it carefully.
Inside was a necklace. Simple, elegant—and embedded with a tiny sapphire. Not a diamond. A sapphire.
The same color as my eyes.
A note was tucked beneath it.
> "You may not obey me, Zara.
> But at least you see clearly.
> —L"
I stared at the note for a long time.
Then I put the necklace on.
Maybe I was just another piece in his game.
Maybe I was still his prisoner.
But he was no longer just my captor.
He was something far more dangerous.
He was the one man who saw the fire inside me—
And dared me to use it.