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Jun 3

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IKEVIL: Once Upon a Dream; PT III

Featuring: Jude Pov: Female reader > the Villains will refer to the reader as "Robin"

CONTEXT... On a mission requiring me to accompany Harrison, it was unexpected that he would willingly involve himself in a noble event, given his clear disdain for the aristocracy. This raises a single question: Why?

. . .

CROWN

Jude J.

PT I : PT II : X : Epilogue

🐦...

“You need to trust me.”

A low, familiar silver voice slid in from my right, close enough that I could feel the heat of him against the night air creeping over the open grounds. It caught somewhere in my chest and pulled me back to the present.

I blinked, dragging myself out of my thoughts as the world around me sharpened.

The Duchess’s garden stretched wide before me, rolling toward the dark line of the forest - though no one would think to stray that far. There was nothing worth for them leaving the light for.

Not when everything here had been arranged to keep you exactly where you were.

Lanterns hung in deliberate lines between trimmed hedges, their glow soft against the night. Roses climbed along wrought frames, their petals catching the light in quiet flashes of red and ivory. Beyond them, a broad stone terrace opened out, pale slabs laid in patterns that looked careless until you followed them twice, bordered by thick rose bushes threaded with fine strings of light that flickered like distant stars.

Music carried across the clearing, steady and measured. The rhythm of the ball pulled people into motion. Pairs turned across the stone in slow, hypnotic cycles, dresses brushing the ground, shoes gliding in time with the swell of the orchestra.

Everything held a kind of deliberate beauty, arranged just enough to feel effortless.

Right. The mission.

I blinked again and forced my thoughts into place, turning toward him, pulling my focus away from the terrace and its glow.

Harry was already looking at me, his expression unchanged as he repeated the same answer William had given to my question.

Was there anything that could make this easier?

I held his gaze a second too long, my mind still slow to catch up on the conversation.

A breath slipped past my lips before I could stop it. My thoughts stalled, emptied, leaving only the simplest response.

“Huh?”

He gave me a brief, faintly judgmental look that vanished as quickly as it came. His attention shifted past me, scanning the garden. People moved, talked, laughed, all of them absorbed in themselves with no one looking at them, yet.

Then he looked back at me.

We had chosen a spot near the tables lined with drinks and food so we could go over the plan without drawing attention. That had been the idea, at least, before I let myself drift, caught off guard by how beautiful everything had been put together.

I should have been used to this by now. High society events weren’t new to me after joining the Crown.

But being part of them without it turning into a mess of blood or tension was.

For a moment, it made me feel like something else entirely.

Like I belonged here.

The dress didn't help my drifting attention either.

I had meant to wear teal to match Harry, but instead, when I returned to my room after my last session with William, I found a gown laid out across my bed.

Victor, most likely. He had already given me the shoes I was wearing now, ones I had finally learned to walk in without thinking about every step.

I hadn’t hesitated to pick it up then.

I still remember how the soft fabric spilt under my hands. Strapless, the bodice deep black at the top, fading into soft lavender and blush, scattered with fine points of gold that caught the light like distant stars.

A thin silver belt drew in at my waist, tied with a small bow, and the skirt fell in layered ruffles that moved with the slightest motion, each step sending a quiet shimmer through it.

It matched the shoes too well to ignore.

And Harry, in darker shades of teal, didn’t clash with it. If anything, it made the contrast look intentional.

I let out a quiet breath.

Before my thoughts could drift again, his voice cut back in and held them there.

“When I was practising with Alfons and Elbert,” he said, his expression tightening slightly, “Alfons got tired of me leading him like a ‘brute.’”

I pressed my lips together, dipping my head as a smile slipped through anyway, barely holding back my laughter. The glance Harry gave me before looking ahead again made it clear he wasn’t amused.

With a quiet sigh, he continued, “So I was forced into the follow role while Alfons took the lead.”

I watched him, the amusement settling deeper as a faint flush crept across his cheeks. His eyes closed for a moment, shoulders dropping, and I found myself leaning in slightly, drawn in despite myself.

“Let’s just say…” he went on, “I learned very quickly that no matter how skilled the lead is, if the follow doesn’t trust themselves and them, the dance looks stiff. Same the other way around.”

His teal eyes turned to me then, steady, clear, leaving no space to look away. I held his gaze.

“If the lead doesn’t trust themselves and the follow,” he added, “it looks even worse.”

Right. William had said the same thing.

“So,” Harry said, quieter now, “I know trust isn't something that goes hand in hand with a 'Lying fox', but I promise to lead you properly. All I’m asking is that you trust me, Robin.”

He said it with a kind of earnestness that caught me off guard. It pulled a smile from me before I could stop it, something lighter, more playful, as I leaned slightly closer.

His expression shifted at once, wary, and he leaned back just enough to keep the space.

I reached out and poked his arm. “Was that a promise I heard?” I asked, tilting my head. “Should I draft a contract? Just in case I need compensation when you fail to follow through?”

I grinned.

He didn’t hesitate. His eyes narrowed slightly, his expression flattening.

“You spend too much time with Jude...” he muttered.

It was quiet, but with how close we stood, I caught it easily.

Something in my chest tightened.

Why is my heart beating so fast?

I turned forward quickly, lifting a hand to my cheek, feeling the warmth there, trying to ignore it. I opened my mouth to respond, to brush it off-

“We should join them next round.”

Harry's calm voice cut in first. His tone even.

I followed his gaze to the dance floor. The music was nearing its end, the last notes stretching thin by each passing second.

“People are starting to stare.”

I glanced around. A few heads turned away the moment I looked, their attention snapping elsewhere as if it had never been on us. Each of them held either a flute of sparkling wine or a fragile plate carrying something delicate and entirely unfulfilling.

Right. We had been standing here for too long without moving and without so much as touching the food or drink laid out before us.

My gaze drifted over the assortment. It looked good, carefully arranged, expensive in a way that was meant to impress, but the tension sitting tight in my abdomen made it clear I would not be able to stomach any of it.

Besides-

Even if it might help us blend in, getting drunk would be a mistake.

Neither Harry nor I handled liquor well, and we needed to stay sharp. Our focus had to remain on the duchess and on getting her to take Harry somewhere private so he could find proof. Proof that she was tied to the nobles she had been accused of supplying, the young men she lured in and sold off, keeping a few for herself.

What a foul woman.

My brows drew together slightly as the thought settled, my gaze lowering for a moment before I forced it steady again.

I swallowed and looked back at the floor as the dancers began to slow, their movements easing with the fading music. It had looked effortless at first, but the longer I looked, the more I saw the tension in their steps, the careful placement of each foot to avoid the uneven gaps between the stones.

I would always be grateful to William for making me train on worse.

The final notes faded, and the pairs came to a stop, bowing with practised grace.

A hand extended into my line of sight.

I followed it up to its owner and met Harry’s eyes. He dipped into a small, elegant bow, a soft, restrained smile on his lips.

“May I, my lady?”

The formality sat slightly awkwardly on his tongue, the Queen’s speech precise but not entirely natural.

I smiled, steadier now, and placed my hand in his. His fingers closed around mine, warm and firm-

-and for a brief second, another memory cut through. Longer fingers, bonier, wrapping more fully around my hand.

Gone as quickly as it came.

I straightened, letting it pass, and stepped forward with him.

My heels soon began to click softly against the stone as we moved toward the floor. I kept my expression composed, offering small smiles and polite nods to those passing us, while my eyes moved past them, searching.

No sign of the Duchess.

Strange...

I came to a stop as Harry did. My gaze drifted past the shifting pairs around us, catching for a brief moment on a flash of deep purple among the brighter colours before my attention was pulled forward by the warm hand that settled against the bare skin of my lower back.

There was a tremor in it - slight enough to go unnoticed by anyone else, but not by me.

A far cry from William's steady confidence.

I stepped a fraction closer, closing the gap the way I had been taught, placing my hand lightly on Harry's shoulder as he lifted our joined hands into position.

I looked up at him.

Ready? I mouthed.

He exhaled through his nose, already tired of this, but gave a small nod, a faint smile pulling at his lips.

The music began again.

Around us, the dancers began to move, and so did we.

If I thought I understood what William meant by “trust” during our practice, moving through this routine among so many others made it clear I had not.

I caught myself just before nearly colliding with another pair, the misstep sending a sharp jolt up my leg as my footing slipped, and Harry adjusted seamlessly.

His hold steadied, his footwork remained precise, and he guided us cleanly out of the path of oncoming bodies, drawing us inward for a brief moment near the centre before easing us back out into the outer circles without breaking the flow.

At least that was something I understood.

The centre drew eyes. It turned a pair into something to be watched, admired, but also judged, measured, and talked about.

Not ideal for those of us only pretending to belong.

I tightened under his lead as we moved, his steps settling into the music with an ease that forced me to follow rather than meet him. My body lagged half a beat behind, correcting itself too late each time.

I glanced up at him, a quiet apology slipping into my expression. His gaze met mine for a moment, steady and unreadable, before shifting away again as his attention returned to the dance.

The only sign that he too wasn't natural and had to concentrate so he wouldn't make a mistake.

But still...

“You really are good,” I murmured, low enough for him alone as I leaned slightly into him.

His hold faltered for a fraction of a second before settling again, drawing me a little closer.

“Don’t undermine yourself,” he said, voice even, though softer than usual. “Whatever William put you through is making this easier.”

As he spoke, he turned us, guiding my body with his. I caught the shift too late. I was meant to move lightly with it, a small lift, a clean step-

My grip tightened instead.

The edge of my shoe caught against the stone.

For a split second, everything tipped-

-and then he adjusted, seamlessly. He turned the misstep into motion, carrying it through, lowering and lifting me in a way that looked intentional, quickening our pace just enough to not collide with the pair beside us before settling back into rhythm.

No one noticed.

I winced. “Sorry,” I muttered, letting my cheek rest briefly against his chest as I exhaled, trying to loosen the tension in my body, to stop thinking about every gap beneath my heels.

His hand at my back tightened-

-and then he pinched me.

I straightened at once, blinking up at him with a sharp look. “Ow! What was that for?”

He glanced at me, a teasing edge to his expression before his focus shifted back to the steps, guiding us through a turn that carried us neatly around another pair, further from the centre.

“For saying something stupid,” he said.

I huffed, squeezing his hand in response. His fingers tensed before I eased my grip again, still glaring up at him.

“I’m being honest,” I said under my breath. “You’re avoiding everyone like you’ve been doing this your whole life.”

I risked a glance around us and immediately regretted it. The movement blurred the edges of my vision, the motion of the dancers folding into one another as the tempo picked up, the sharp clicks of shoes threading through the music.

I looked back at him, grounding myself against his lean profile.

He let out a quiet breath that sounded almost like a laugh as he turned us again, slipping past another pair without breaking stride.

“Maybe,” he said. “But that has less to do with skill and more with knowing how to avoid inconveniences.”

He said it so lightly it drew a short huff of laughter from me. Whether he meant it or not, the faint smirk at the corner of his mouth made the intent clear. He wanted to ease the tension in me.

At least, I think so.

Harry was the most rational among the Crown. With him, it felt like I was back in my old life. Even though I had grown into this new one, learned its weight and its edges, around him, I could set some of it down and find comfort in the past I left behind.

Although-

Part of me questioned it. His curse sat between every word he spoke, a quiet distortion that wrapped truth in something just off. Any sincerity he held could be veiled without his knowing, bent by something unseen rather than his choice.

If he felt normal to me, it might only be because that same curse softened whatever lay beneath, smoothing it into something easier to accept.

Like Jude, and the way people forgot to invite him.

It was only a theory, but it settled too cleanly in my mind to dismiss.

We continued the dance, and the music soon began to thin, the arrangement loosening as it edged towards its close. If we meant to catch the Duchess’s eye, we were failing.

What to do? What to do?

My brows drew together as I glanced to the side, letting it look as though I yielded entirely to Harry’s lead while I checked my footing, careful not to misstep.

I didn't try to guide him, so when our path shifted, angling us inward, I lifted my gaze.

He was steering us towards the centre.

My pulse struck hard against my ribs. I looked up at him, eyes wide enough to speak for me: What are you doing?

He caught it, just for a moment. His expression flickered - thoughtful, edged with apology - before he turned us cleanly with the music.

“I know it’s not the smartest move to put a spotlight on us,” he said under his breath, “but if we stay in the background, the Duchess won’t notice me. And there are other young men here who fit her taste.”

He spun me, the motion drawing me closer without effort. His focus sharpened, and I felt the shift the instant his step faltered. I adjusted before it showed, carrying us through the turn without breaking stride, then eased him back into the lead as if nothing had happened.

His widened eyes met mine, a quiet flash of gratitude passing between us before he continued.

I exhaled. He was growing restless; that much was clear, yet he still held himself back, no doubt seeing through whatever mask I had not realised I was wearing.

It wouldn't have surprised me if he already knew I was still tense.

I caught my lower lip between my teeth and glanced towards the centre of the floor, then lifted my gaze back to him. There was a flicker of hesitation, but I held it steady.

“Let’s do it.” I gave a small nod.

Harry returned only a brief look, his expression unreadable at first, before his eyes sharpened to match my resolve. He nodded back.

We angled towards the centre. I made sure each step followed his lead as he guided us through the shifting patterns of dancers, weaving between them with controlled precision. A few I passed met my eyes, surprise clear in their expressions as we moved through their space.

My heart thudded harder the closer we drew. I drew in slow breaths, but they did little to steady me. My hand tightened around his without thinking. He squeezed back, his gaze hardening for a fraction of a second before softening, his features loosening into something gentler, his eyes taking on a quiet, almost guileless look as we neared the centre.

A performance for the duchess and everyone present.

I swallowed and looked away, fixing my focus to the side. The centre drew closer with every step, every turn.

Just a few more-

The next movement twisted me into place. I expected the final turn to carry us forward, but the pressure at my hand vanished-

-?!

In the same motion, the hand that had held mine a moment ago was taken by another. Longer fingers closed around mine, firm and unyielding, while a second hand settled at my lower back and drew me in against a different chest. The tobacco scent reached me first, combined with-

A sandalwood?

By the time my mind caught up, we had already come to a stop. The music fell silent with us, the surrounding pairs pausing in unison, and my body moved on instinct, dipping into a bow.

As I straightened, my eyes met a familiar shade of amethyst. It held a glint I didn't recognise, something sharp beneath the surface, before easing into the familiar dark, self-satisfied smirk that narrowed my gaze in return.

Jude? What is he- wait. Harry.

I turned quickly, searching for Harry, but only caught a glimpse of teal among the shifting colours as the pairs adjusted, some remaining, others exchanging with different pairs.

There- Ah. He’s with her!

Before I could dwell on the brief flicker of relief at seeing Harry with the duchess, a quiet click of the tongue pulled my attention back.

I barely had time to react before Jude took my hand, lifting it with practiced ease and guiding it into place. His other hand returned to my back, firm and certain as it drew me closer, just as the music shifted and a new rhythm filled the room.

This time, there was no careful restraint in the lead. Unlike Harry's, Jude's steps carried a confidence that forced me to follow, each movement sharper, broader, leaving me acutely aware of every placement of my feet.

“Jude,” I hissed under my breath, catching the melody as it rose again, something about it tugging faintly at my memory.

Wait… I’ve heard this-

His voice cut through the thought, low and rough, drawing my gaze upward as he led me through a wider turn. His stride stretched the pattern, forcing me to adjust, to keep up, my steps landing quicker against the stone.

“Hah? Wot are ya hissin for, princess?”His smirk deepened. “It’s rude to stare at someone else an’ ignore yer partner.”

My heart gave a sharp jolt at the word, even if I knew he was referring to himself as my "dance" partner.

Before I could answer, he spun me out and drew me back in with ease, the motion seamless, his timing exact as he turned us with the music as though it were second nature.

I huffed under my breath. Show-off.

I looked up, glaring. He only looked down at me, that same smirk set in place.

“Harry was my dance partner. It’s natural I’d be concerned,” I said, settling into the pace he set. My attention shifted from keeping up to him; my steps fell in line without thought as I let him lead.

Jude scoffed, glancing aside before his gaze returned to me, a thin layer of disinterest settling over his expression.

“Weren’t you lot meant to draw the attention of that brazen noble hussy?” he asked, the faint edge of mockery clear in his tone.

My lips parted. I didn't know what I was about to say, only that I would defend the plan.

He, however, didn't give me the chance.

He lifted our joined hands, dipping me back in a controlled arc as he turned us. My breath caught as the world tilted, my balance held entirely by him, leaving me no choice but to meet his gaze.

Amethyst held mine, steady and unbroken.

For a moment, I forgot to breathe.

He drew me back upright, and the emptiness in my mind lingered, my chest light, unguarded. It left me unprepared for the next shift. His hands moved, firm at my hips, and before I could react, I was lifted cleanly off the ground. My hands came up to his shoulders on instinct as he turned us, the motion smooth and deliberate.

I didn't even realise he had carried us to the centre.

He set me down without a break in rhythm. My hand settled against his shoulder while the other found his extended hand. The fabric of my skirt gathered between our palms where I had lifted it without noticing, and his hand returned to my waist as he guided us forward.

The space around us widened.

I only noticed because the colour and movement at the edges of my vision fell away, leaving a stillness that hadn’t been there before.

I didn’t look away, however. I kept my gaze on him, wide and searching, while his never left mine.

What is happening…?

I could feel my body easing despite the confusion. The steps shifted into something unfamiliar, patterns I didn't recognise, yet I followed without resistance. Here, at the centre, there were no strict rules. A pair could move as they pleased.

I forgot what we had been speaking about.

The rhythm carried us across the stones, each step placed without thought, until I saw it - the smirk returning to his face, softer now, but no less sharp.

“Seems like ya two were ‘avin’ a bit too much fun an’ forgot,” he said. “Naive bird. Got swayed by the lazy fox.”

There was something beneath it, something restrained behind the curve of his mouth.

It struck deeper than I expected.

I looked up at him, my gaze hardening. He met it with a hollow smirk as he turned us again, the melody threading through the movement, still tugging faintly at my memory.

“We were about to,” I said, my voice steady, “before someone decided to interfere.”

As I spoke, I shifted my footing, aiming to bring my heel down against his.

He moved aside with ease.

The step carried him behind me, his grip never loosening on my extended hand. It was only when he moved out of my direct line of sight that I fully realised where we were - and just how many eyes were on us.

My expression faltered. The realisation set in, cold and sharp, but before it could surface fully, he drew me back against him. The gold chain across his chest brushed faintly against my bare back, the contact sending a brief shiver through me as he took my other hand and turned me away from the watching crowd.

He led me without hesitation, guiding me into a sequence I didn't know, his movements assured, controlled.

The attention around us slipped from focus, pulled away by the closeness and the rhythm he set.

Then his voice reached me, low and drawn out near my ear, his breath warm against my skin.

“Ah. That’s right,” he murmured. “I did help ya.”

I shot him a glare over my shoulder, but he turned me before I could hold it, spinning me back into him. My hands were caught in his as he stepped back, forcing me forward in quick succession.

I barely registered the gaps between the stones before he settled us into a familiar pattern, though wider now, less restrained.

“Wot’s that cute look for, eh?” he said. “Ya owe me, princess. If I adn’t stepped in, ya two’d still be stumblein’ about like kids all night.”

At his smirk, at the ease in his tone, my eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

Jude exhaled, long and unimpressed. His hand slipped from my waist as he sent me into a turn, extending our arms between us before leading me forward. I matched his steps, my gaze fixed on him.

“Think,” he said. “Who d’you see that lyin’ fox with?”

The Duchess... But-

My steps faltered for half a beat before catching again, my eyes lifting sharply to his.

Wait.

“You-” The word broke off as he pulled me in without warning. A short sound left me as I spun straight into his hold, his hands catching me at my sides. Heat rose to my face as he angled us, then turned me out again, guiding us back into the familiar pattern as he led us across the floor.

“Took ya long enough,” he said. “Song’s nearly over.”

He widened the movements, stretching the steps, but I followed without thinking.

My thoughts had shifted.

They settled instead on the music.

Dark, familiar, threaded with something I could not place until-

A single note.

My breath stilled. My body loosened, tension slipping free as my eyes fell closed, a small smile breaking through before I could stop it.

“Huh? Wot are you-”

“I... kno-ow you,” I murmured, the words falling into place with the melody. “I walked with you... once... up-pon a dream…”

His lead slowed. I felt the change in his steps, the rhythm shifting until it fell in time with my voice rather than the orchestra. I kept my eyes closed, letting the familiar tune settle in my chest as I hummed it under my breath, then shaped it into words that felt almost recognisable on my tongue.

“I… know… you… that gleam in your eyes.... is so familiar a gleam…”

“Wot are ya doin’?”

I fluttered my eyes open, still caught in the rhythm, the smile lingering despite the confusion in his expression.

“This song,” I said, “it was in one of the plays Liam performed.”

He dipped me lightly, his hold steady as he turned us and drew me back up without effort. His expression shifted, faintly amused, though the boredom lingered beneath it.

“O-oh? The Brothers Grimm version of Sleepin' Beauty, was it?”

The flatness of his tone almost made me miss it.

“Yes- it was incredible! A bit darker than the one from Sir Perrault, but still very enjoyable. And Liam was- wait.”

The realisation struck mid-sentence. My eyes widened as I looked up at him.

“How did you- hey-”

He used the opening to turn me again, pulling me back against him. This time the contact was firmer, the press of the gold across his chest catching against my back. I flinched at the sting, yet the sensation drew a shiver through me all the same, his hold unyielding as he guided us into a slow sway.

Everything else fell away.

The music dulled. The movement blurred.

All I could register was him, the sharp line of gold at my back, the warmth behind it, and the steady rhythm of his breath near my ear.

I didn't need to see his expression to know he was smirking - I could feel it, faint against the edge of my ear.

“But if I… know you…” he murmured, his voice low and silky, carrying the melody in the proper Queen's English, “I know what you’ll do…”

Another shiver ran through me as he turned me again, drawing me in. My arm was guided up around his neck while his other hand settled at my back, pulling me closer until my palm pressed flat against his chest.

Our faces drew near, close enough that our breaths brushed.

I stared, caught, my thoughts slipping loose.

He didn't look away.

“You lo-oved me at once,” he finished softly, the smirk never leaving his face, “the way you did once u-upon… a dream…”

—

I did not even hear the music stop.

I remained fixed on his eyes, the amethyst seeming softer beneath the fairy lights as he dipped me slowly, that same smirk curving his mouth - less irritating now, but still edged with something sharp that only made me catch my breath.

My heart stumbled as I searched his expression-

A sound cut through it.

THUD.

Then another.

My attention snapped away. The illusion shattered as I took in the scene around us. It was not the music that had slowed and stopped - people had dropped, one after another, the orchestra with them.

My breath hitched.

What-

My heart began to pound, uneven and sharp, confusion rising into something colder as I tried to make sense of it. Bodies lay across the floor, unmoving.

I tightened my grip on the back of Jude’s coat as he drew me upright. I barely registered the closeness, too focused on the still forms around us, the sudden absence of movement.

“What is-”

Jude clicked his tongue.

I looked up.

His expression had reset, the smirk gone, replaced by a familiar scowl as his gaze swept over the fallen bodies with quick precision.

When his eyes met mine, something flickered. Then he smirked again and flicked my forehead.

I flinched, my eyes squeezing shut for a moment before I glared at him, rubbing the spot.

His smirk deepened.

“Wot?” he cockily asked. “Still not used to the sight? After all this time, that’s a problem, princess. Ya should start thinkin’ about packin’ yer-”

“It’s not the sight,” I cut in, my voice sharper than intended. “It’s that I don’t know why.”

I crossed my arms, holding his gaze. For a moment, something like surprise crossed his face before it flattened into something unreadable.

“Weirdo,” he muttered, his attention already shifting back to the bodies. He exhaled, long and tired. “Did ya two even bother readin’ the report the Queenie’s aide gave ya?”

He began guiding me away, not giving me the chance to answer as his hand returned to my lower back, steering us towards the palace with unbothered confidence. The hand steadied my steps despite myself, even as my gaze continued to move over the scattered bodies.

Then a thought struck me.

Wait...

My focus sharpened at once, scanning the fallen figures more carefully.

Harry- Where is-

“Oi.”

My vision snapped back as fingers caught my cheeks and turned my face sharply. I was forced to meet Jude’s gaze, those darkened amethysts fixed on me with clear irritation.

He stopped walking, his grip tightening just enough to hold me in place. My lips parted under the pressure, surprise cutting through my thoughts as I stared at him.

He leaned closer.

His hand slid from my back to my waist, settling there with more weight, drawing me in. The light behind him traced the edge of his features, catching in his eyes and giving them a sharp, almost luminous sheen.

“Look at ya~ he said, his voice low, edged. “Forgettin’ me even when I’m right next to ya.”

His hold at my waist tightened, the fabric pressing into my skin. My breath hitched, my eyes widening as my hand came up instinctively, gripping the front of his suit.

“Didn’t think ya could be this airheaded, princess.”

For a moment, I hesitated.

Perhaps it was the shock, or the way the night had shifted so abruptly, but something in his voice didn't sit cleanly. Beneath the edge, beneath the irritation, there was something else - brief, restrained, quickly buried.

Worry...?

The thought settled before I could dismiss it.

It felt turned outward, forced into shape before it could settle into anything else inside of him.

That was just like him.

Jude didn't allow anything to touch him unless he chose it.

My expression softened before I could stop it. I saw the shift in his eyes at once, the faint flicker of surprise as his gaze searched mine, as if he had expected to see something else entirely.

I still didn't know why he was here, what he intended to gain, but that was the least of my worries as I was reminded of something much more pressing.

I straightened, my grip on his coat steadying as my posture set. My determined gaze held his.

“I promised,” I said, my voice even, firm.

His expression shifted into something openly puzzled. His hold on my face loosened, more from confusion than intent.

“Hah? Wot are ya chipperin’ about?” he asked, his tone flat, though his eyes remained sharp, searching mine.

I smiled despite it, a small sense of certainty settling in my chest. My hands moved to my hips, though when one brushed his, resting at my waist, his grip twitched before tightening again, drawing me a fraction closer.

I didn't step back.

“I promised myself,” I said, holding his gaze, “that I would never forget you.”

I couldn’t properly read the look Jude gave me in that moment, and no matter how many times I turned it over in my head, I knew that unless he told me what he felt when I said that, I would be left with nothing but the sense that I had caught him off guard.

His lips parted a fraction. His hold tightened. I felt his hand firm against me as his spine straightened, his widened amethyst eyes fixed on mine. We stood so close I could see the shift in his pupils as they dilated, just for a second, before the moment slipped away.

He leaned back with a slow exhale, the tension easing out of him. His hand fell from my cheek, though it stayed at my waist as he began to guide me back towards the palace, his expression seemingly settling into something looser, easier.

I let my hands fall, folding them in front of me as I followed his lead, leaving the still bodies behind us without another glance.

“Troublesome princess. Makin’ promises ya can’t be sure to keep…”he muttered in a low voice, though the quiet of the night carried every word to me.

Something in my chest sparked at that. I turned my head towards him with a small, sharp smile. “I can. And I will.”

Jude glanced at me, one brow lifting as a smirk tugged at his mouth. He leaned a little closer, and I matched him without thinking, holding his gaze. “Oh yeah? Wanna write a contract, then? Make it official. So when ya break it, I get somethin’ out of it.”

I huffed and faced forward, lifting my chin as I crossed my arms, walking easily while his hand at my back never loosened. “Now, when did I say I’d allow that?” I glanced at him from the side, letting the satisfaction show. “But if it helps you sleep, be my guest.”

Jude let out a quiet huff as he straightened, mirroring my posture as he looked ahead, eyes closing for a brief moment as a self-satisfied smile settled on his face. “Cheeky princess,” he muttered.

We continued on in a silence that felt settled rather than empty.

Only when we passed the path that led by the palace and began to move away from it did the realisation strike. I stopped short, the sudden halt forcing Jude to stop with me, his hand pressing more firmly against my back from the motion.

I ignored the annoyed look he gave me, the unspoken what now in it, as I turned sharply to stare back down the path we had come from. Then I looked up at him again, wide-eyed, meeting his narrowed, unbothered gaze.

“We forgot Harry!” I exclaimed.

The words hit harder once spoken. He was my partner for this mission, and I had left him behind.

I covered my mouth, the thought sinking in with a dull weight. I’m such a horrible person… My mind scrambled, trying to place where he could be. I had seen him with the duchess, so maybe-

But what if-

Before the thought could spiral further, a firm hand settled at the back of my neck. The warmth at my back vanished, leaving my skin exposed to the night air, and a shiver ran through me, sharp enough to pull my attention back to Jude. My body felt too cold and too warm in the same breath, where I didn't know if I wanted to lean closer to Jude or stay as I was.

He was already looking at me, his expression steady but unreadable as his hand held my neck in place. When he caught me staring, that look shifted, easing into the familiar curve of a smirk.

“It’s not polite to focus on another bloke when ya are claimed by another,”

My heart stuttered.

Why did he have to phrase it like that?!

I stared at him, my expression faltering with something I couldn’t quite name, unsure whether it was the words or the lingering chill that unsettled me more.

Then his hand slipped away.

I drew my shoulders in on instinct as the cold brushed over my bare skin again, and I looked up just in time to catch his next words as he stepped forward, long, unhurried strides carrying him ahead, his fingers loosely linked in front of him.

“I thought the monarch would’ve taught ya better during yer little dancin’ lessons.”

I stood there for a second, staring at his retreating back with gaping mouth.

How did he-

I blinked, watching as the deep purple of his figure was nearly swallowed by the dark, broken only by pale strands of his white hair that caught what little light remained.

He didn’t look back. He kept walking, as if the choice had already been made, leaving it to me to follow or not. Again.

My chest tightened.

I glanced back once more from where we came from, before turning forward. By then, he had already slipped beyond even the moonlight, the shadows of the trees on the side closing around him.

My hands curled into fists. I lowered my head, squeezing my eyes shut for a brief moment.

I’m so, so sorry.

Then I gathered the sides of my gown and moved without letting myself think any further. Determination rose sharp and bright in my chest, cracking through the hesitation as I ran after him, heels striking against the ground, the sound quick and uneven.

Ahead of me, I thought I saw him slow just a fraction, his head tilting slightly, before he looked back forward.

I didn’t stop. I followed him into the shadows, leaving the light behind.

Fin.