The moonlight painted silver shadows across the Academy's stone courtyard. Most of the gala's guests had retired. The music had long since faded into echo, and yet Alexander remained beneath the archway, watching the emptying space like a soldier waiting for war.
He should've left hours ago.
But she hadn't come to him.
Footsteps broke the silence.
He didn't turn. "Caelan."
The name landed like frost.
The young noble stopped a few feet behind him, his hands tucked loosely into his pockets. "You always were hard to approach when brooding."
Alexander finally looked over his shoulder. "You've been tailing Evelyn."
"Not tailing," Caelan said smoothly. "Accompanying. There's a difference."
"You're wasting your time."
"Funny." Caelan stepped closer. "She didn't seem to think so."
Silence stretched between them. It wasn't the loud kind—it was cold, sharp, and brimming with what neither of them would say outright.
"She's not a game," Alexander said finally.
"I know that." Caelan's voice dipped. "Maybe that's why she smiled at me tonight."
Alexander's jaw clenched.
Caelan noticed. "So, is it jealousy, or are you finally realizing you might lose her?"
Alexander turned fully then, eyes unreadable. "She isn't mine to lose."
"No," Caelan agreed. "But she could've been—if you hadn't spent so long pretending you don't feel anything."
The silence cracked then—not with anger, but with something far more dangerous: honesty.
Alexander didn't reply. Couldn't.
And that, more than anything, was an answer.
Evelyn stood near the balcony above, unnoticed. The cold stone pressed into her palms as she leaned forward just enough to catch their words. She didn't mean to eavesdrop.
But she'd heard her name.
And Alexander's silence.
Her chest felt tight.
She didn't want to be chosen out of jealousy. She didn't want a man who only realized what she meant when he thought someone else might take her.
But even so…
Her heart whispered his name.