𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 | 𝟏𝟖+

𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 | 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐏

ততততত

𝐈 𝐌 𝐎 𝐆 𝐄 𝐍

I place Tobin's map next to mine on the desk, studying the vast differences between them.

Whoever attempted to make his map certainly had poor recollection of the castle. Rooms are placed where they shouldn't be, and half of the walls remain missing. No wonder Tobin made the foolish decision to cross the royal library's roof last night.

I take out my graphite, fixing Tobin's mistakes and repairing them with my own edits. In the morning sun, I draw each line over the old, recalling every hallway and pathway within my home. It's not long until I find myself lost far away from my reality.

Last night, I should've reported Tobin to the guards. There was no reason for me to keep him hostage in my bedroom, and any sane princess would have alerted someone who would deal with him. Yet, those deep brown eyes held golden constellations in them, and I followed each one until they revealed a whole new world. There he was: rugged, tousled, and ever so alluring. His skin appeared so scarred and sunscorched that I know he's no stranger to hard work and labour, and his deep chestnut locks of hair were a mess—a mess I wanted to rummage my fingers through. It's a shame he hides himself beneath a mask, because he's one of the kingdom's most remarkable treasures.

I only wonder why he decided to scale these walls. It's clear someone sent him, someone with a terrible memory of the Lagulon castle. It's not often that someone tries to hijack the palace, but there's a part of me that just wants to trust Tobin with all my heart. Maybe it's those damning eyes, or his dangerous smirk that makes every ounce of blood in me warm.

He's a criminal, and yet my brain won't get him out of my head. Daydreaming of him like this should be illegal.

Fortunately, a knocking on my bedroom door pries me away from working on Tobin's map and of course, thinking of that same sneaky thief.

"Come in."

The door opens up to my father, the king, standing on the other side. He's dressed in royal garb, obviously prepared to make an appearance to the royal council regarding the war. For a man who has a plethora of stories about him running away from his royal responsibilities as a teen, he suits the role as king so well. He blames my mother for whipping him into shape.

His lips curve, although strained as the barrier of last night's conversation builds between us. "How are you holding up?"

"Could be better," I place the chunk of graphite down on the desk, turning towards him. "And you? Have you figured out a way to end this?"

He shakes his head as he paces into the room with sluggish steps. "I see you're distracting yourself."

"I thought I'd redo the map of the castle," I lie, trying to hide the fact that I stole this map from Tobin while my arrows pinned him to the wall. "There were some errors on my original."

He chuckles. "You? Make an error? I doubt it."

"You know I'm not perfect," I scowl at the tease, hiding the rest of Tobin's map beneath another slip of paper.

My father sighs as he pulls up a loose chair, sitting beside me with his thick arms crossed across his chest. The war has created wrinkles and bags under his once bright grey eyes. He was always so youthful, regardless of his age. Now, time catches up to him faster than he anticipated.

"There's no plan to end the betrothal just yet, Imogen," he begins. "But we need to come up with a plan. You and I."

I swallow. "What would this plan entail?"