CHAPTER FOUR: The Hidden Gate

The servant’s gate loomed ahead, a narrow arch barely visible in the silver moonlight. Meliora’s fingers trembled as she reached for the latch. Freedom was within her grasp, yet her heart pounded not from fear alone, but from the tension of the night, the thrill of defiance, and the presence of the mysterious man who had appeared from the shadows.

“Almost there,” she whispered to Selene, her voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins.

Selene nodded, her small hand clutching Meliora’s. “We just need to get through that gate, Your Highness, and we’re free.”

The crunch of footsteps reached them again. Meliora froze, her dagger instinctively raised. From the shadows emerged the man—her silent protector, the one whose presence had unnerved and fascinated her in equal measure.

“You have courage,” he said softly, his eyes dark in the moonlight. “And perhaps a little recklessness.”

“Why are you following me?” Meliora demanded, her voice a mixture of exasperation and curiosity. “What do you want from me?”

He smiled faintly, a smirk that sent an unexpected shiver through her. “I want nothing,” he said. “Not yet. I am… intrigued. That is enough.”

Before she could question him further, the guards appeared again at the edge of the garden, their torches slicing through the night. Meliora’s stomach tightened. The escape she had planned so carefully seemed on the brink of collapse.

The man stepped closer, his presence both commanding and protective. “Follow me,” he whispered. With a swift, fluid movement, he guided them along a hidden path lined with ivy and low stone walls. They moved silently, barely a whisper beneath the torches’ glow, and in moments, the guards passed, oblivious to their presence.

Finally, they reached the narrow archway of the servant’s gate. Meliora exhaled sharply, her fingers gripping the latch. For the first time that night, she felt a glimmer of hope, the possibility of freedom stretching before her like the quiet river road beyond.

She turned to the man, her eyes sharp and wary. “Who are you?” she demanded once more. “Why have you helped me?”

He tilted his head, eyes glinting with amusement. “I told you, I am merely… intrigued. And I enjoy seeing courage where others see fear.”

Meliora’s gaze lingered on him, trying to discern truth from jest, danger from fascination. “You are no ordinary man,” she said finally.

“Perhaps not,” he admitted, stepping back into the shadows with a smirk. “But for now, your path is yours alone.”

Meliora pushed open the gate, the cool night air rushing in to embrace her. She glanced back, half-expecting him to disappear like a ghost. But even from the shadows, his eyes followed her, sharp and calculating, and something in their depths made her pulse quicken.

As she led Selene down the river road, Meliora could not shake the feeling that their encounter was far from over. The man in the shadows had become a presence she could neither ignore nor fully understand. And though she did not yet know his name, or the full measure of the danger and desire he carried, she sensed that her life—and her heart—would never be the same.

The palace behind them faded into the night, but the first spark of something dark, compelling, and intoxicating had already been lit.

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