Y/n didn’t speak, didn’t move. She couldn’t.

The Crown Prince’s reflection stared into hers through the mirror, those golden eyes fixed, unblinking and sharp. It was as if he was looking into her soul and weighing its worth.

Her heart was pounding hard enough to split bone, but she willed her body still. She would not show fear. She was already caught like a rabbit cornered in the thorns, nose twitching, ears alert, but refusing to tremble.

Even if she knew this was how she would die.

His voice came again, low, rough, and close enough that the words almost slid straight into her bones.

“You do know what becomes of spies, don’t you?”