As dawn spilled its pale light through the sheer curtains, I lay still beneath the heavy covers, a mischievous smirk playing on my lips.

This—this private, unguarded moment—was the reason I summoned the resolve to rise before the sun. A secret indulgence that painted the start of my day with a thrill only I could claim.

Sliding my hand beneath the cool linen, I let my fingers trail with deliberate ease, teasing and coaxing, eyes fluttering closed as the familiar warmth blossomed within me.

My mind wandered to fantasies, a gallery of faces and desires, but always one silhouette loomed large—the man from last night. Tall, sharp, and chillingly aloof, his presence haunted my thoughts as much as it challenged them.

He was unlike anyone I’d known—uninterested in royal flattery, indifferent to my status. That cold detachment was a puzzle I couldn’t resist.

Just as my pleasure crested, a rush of electricity pulsed through me, brief but exquisite—a solitary crescendo in the quiet dawn.

Not nearly enough.

Maybe one day soon, I mused, I’d find a way to let go completely, to be held and understood. But for now, I pushed the thought aside, gathering myself to face the day.

The chill of the stone floor greeted my bare feet as I descended the grand staircase, moving with purposeful steps toward the training hall—a place usually reserved for the castle’s guards and warriors.

Though I was late, the sight awaiting me stopped me cold: my father standing beside a figure I recognized immediately.

Ark—the same enigmatic stranger from last night—stood tall and unreadable, his obsidian eyes catching the dim morning light as they swept over me before returning to my father.

He was every bit the shadow I’d glimpsed in the dark corridors—the epitome of lethal grace and steely resolve. His hair, as black as his eyes, looked tousled as if he’d carelessly run a hand through it moments before.

His face wasn’t the rugged handsomeness I expected from a guard—it bore a more ethereal, almost predatory beauty, with high cheekbones and a jawline carved like a blade.

He looked like someone who could kill without flinching, and yet, that danger magnetized me.

"You’re late, Kiva," my father said, his voice low and edged with reprimand, as I stepped forward with a tentative smile.

My eyes kept darting back to Ark, the strange magnetism pulling me in despite myself.

"I had things to attend to," I replied, my hands smoothing the fabric of my pants, trying to hide the lingering flush of my private morning.

"This is Ark," my father announced, "your new personal guard." His gaze flickered to Ark, silently challenging him to make a good impression.

Ark and I exchanged measured looks—neither of us revealing that our acquaintance went back further than this morning.

"Hello," I murmured, feeling awkward under his cold scrutiny.

He dipped his head in acknowledgment, his silence as commanding as the man himself.

"Ark will assess your current abilities to determine where to begin your training," my father explained. "I told him you’re inexperienced, but he insists on evaluating you personally."

"Fine," I said, trying to mask my irritation.

"After training, he will take over as your primary protector, alternating shifts with Jack," my father continued.

Judging by Ark’s presence alone, I knew vigilance would be relentless—and I’d have to be cunning to evade his watchful eyes.

"I had an excellent guard before you," I said, crossing my arms defiantly.

Ark said nothing, hands clasped respectfully behind his back—a gesture of discipline that contrasted sharply with his cold demeanor.

Despite his immaculate control, I sensed a harshness beneath the surface—a brutal edge that set my heart pounding with both fear and an inexplicable thrill.

My father’s expression softened into a proud smile. "Ark was a mercenary for years. He is highly skilled."

"You mean, a killer?" I asked, the word hanging between us.

"Yes," Ark replied curtly.

For a moment, the air felt thinner, my breath caught in my throat. Could my father truly prefer a hired assassin to guard me?

"I’ll leave you two to begin," my father said quietly, retreating into the snow-dusted halls.

Ark turned away, his gaze scanning the training area—the cavernous space dominated by towering ceilings and an array of combat equipment.

Despite my royal blood, I felt a stirring of excitement—I belonged here, among the hardened and the strong.

I just had to make sure Ark never got the upper hand.

"Don’t expect me to be full of energy," I muttered, stretching my arms with a yawn.

Ark rubbed his gloved hands together and glanced over his shoulder. "Perhaps if you didn’t wake before dawn to indulge yourself, you might get more rest," he said, his tone deceptively calm.

I froze, staring at his back in disbelief.

"I… how do you know that?" My voice cracked with a mix of shock and embarrassment.

He turned slowly, eyes narrowing. "Your gaze is unfocused, your cheeks flushed, and your shoulders have relaxed since last night. It’s clear."

How could he see all that in the dim morning light?

"My private moments are none of your concern," I snapped, bristling at his intrusion.

He shrugged with an almost imperceptible smirk. "Perhaps not. But they explain why you’re tired."

Steeling myself, I stepped closer. "Actually, I’m exhausted because someone tried to kill me in my own chamber. Sleep hasn’t been easy."

A flicker of something—pity? regret?—passed beneath his dark eyes.

"Rest will aid your recovery," he said simply.

I tapped my foot impatiently, channeling my frustration into the rhythm. "You seriously think you can forbid me from taking care of myself? Are you mad?"

His posture shifted, the faintest edge of anger sharpening his calm.

He stepped forward until only inches separated us, revealing every detail of his intense features—the dark lashes framing his eyes, the shadows beneath them hinting at sleepless nights.

I refused to meet his lips, though they looked dangerously inviting.

"Get on the ground," he commanded, voice low, tinged with a quiet fury.

"What?" I blinked, startled.

He nodded toward the floor. "Stretching exercises. Now."

Swallowing my surprise, I sank down, unwilling to show how disarmed I felt.

My thoughts darkened, imagining what other meanings his words might carry, but I pushed them aside, focusing on the task.

Ark began to pace before me, hands tucked into his pockets, his presence filling the room.

"Rules," he said abruptly. I rolled my eyes, already anticipating the rigidity.

"First, I am here only to train you in self-defense. Your father does not want you transformed into a fighter. It is not his wish."

His voice betrayed the irritation of having to state the obvious.

"Imagine that," I muttered under my breath, "a princess who thinks for herself and can defend it."

For a fleeting moment, the faintest curve appeared on his lips—something close to a smile.

"Second, you will not be late again. Failure to attend training on time will be punished. Nothing else will take precedence—not lovers, not distractions. Your mind must remain focused."

I gaped. "My personal life is none of your business."

He didn’t respond, continuing his measured pacing—the sound of his boots echoing sharply in the silent hall.

"Third, you will obey my commands without hesitation. Do you understand?"

"I—" I started, but he cut me off, holding my gaze with unyielding intensity.

"Do you understand, Kiva?"

His tone left no room for argument. I sensed that defiance would only ignite consequences I was not prepared to face.

"Yes, Ark," I said through gritted teeth, forcing a sardonic smile.

A shadow flickered between his brows, a frown threatening to break his composed facade.

"What happened to you will not be repeated. Is that clear?"

I swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling over me like a stone.

"Crystal clear," I replied.

We sat in tense silence, the atmosphere thick with unspoken challenges, until Ark finally turned away.

"Laps around the gym," he ordered brusquely.

I scrambled to my feet, groaning internally but recognizing the futility of protest.

"When do I stop?" I asked, breath already beginning to quicken.

He waved a dismissive hand. "When I decide you’ve had enough. Now move."

Despite every instinct screaming rebellion, I started to run, cursing Ark, my new reality, and the path I was forced to tread.