"She's a friend of mine."
Leonard's voice was calm, almost casual—like the answer required no further thought.
He had already guessed what was forming in her mind.
And he didn't want her going down that path.
Dydra, however, didn't relax.
A friend?
Her thoughts immediately rejected it.
What Oryen had once told her surfaced uninvited—words about noblewomen, attention, rivalry, how nothing around men of power was ever simple. Especially not a crown prince.
It only made her chest tighten further.
She bowed quickly, her voice shaky.
"My lord, forgive me for not realizing you had company…"
Tears gathered again, blurring her vision. She blinked rapidly, but they still fell.
She had already caused enough chaos in one day.
The accusation. The stares. The whispers.
She didn't want to become part of something else she didn't understand.
"I should take my leave," she said softly.
Another bow.
Then she turned toward the door.
But before she could take a step—
