_*]:min-w-0 !gap-3.5">The assassination attempt came during the Harvest Festival, when the pace grounds opened to commoners for the annual celebrations. Lia had been watching Cassian address the crowd from her position near the royal dais, her newly official role as advisor granting her proximity to the prince.

  She saw it before anyone else – a glint of metal in the crowd, the subtle movement of an archer drawing back his bow from a merchant's cart. Time seemed to slow as she realized the trajectory would put the arrow straight through Cassian's heart.

  "Get down!" she screamed, unching herself at the prince.

  They collided just as the arrow released. Pain exploded through her shoulder as the projectile meant for Cassian's chest found her instead. They tumbled to the ground together, her blood staining his ceremonial robes.

  "Allura!" His voice cracked with genuine fear as chaos erupted around them. Guards swarmed the archer while courtiers screamed. But Cassian's focus remained solely on her, his hands pressing against her wound. "Stay with me. Don't you dare close your eyes."

  The world faded in and out as she was carried to the pace infirmary. She remembered fragments – Cassian's voice demanding the best healers, the bite of medicinal herbs, and always, his presence nearby.

  When she finally woke properly, sunlight streamed through unfamiliar windows. She wasn't in the infirmary but in a vishly appointed bedroom. Cassian dozed in a chair beside her bed, dark circles under his eyes, his usually immacute appearance disheveled.

  He stirred as she shifted, instantly alert. "You're awake. Thank the gods." He leaned forward, checking her bandages with surprising gentleness. "How do you feel?"

  "Like I was shot with an arrow," she managed weakly.

  A ghost of a smile crossed his face. "The healers say you'll recover fully, but it was close. The arrow barely missed your lung." His hand lingered on her forehead, checking for fever. "Why did you do it?"

  "Do what?"

  "Save me. Risk your life for mine." His blue eyes searched hers intently. "The Allura I knew would have let me die and seized power in the chaos."

  Lia closed her eyes, overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze. "Maybe I'm not her anymore."

  "No," he agreed softly. "You're not."

  During her recovery, Cassian visited daily, often multiple times. He brought state documents to review together, read to her from her favorite books (which he'd somehow discovered), and shared meals in her room when she was too weak to join formal dinners.

  On the fourth day, as he helped her sit up to eat soup, their conversation turned unexpectedly personal.

  "I've been thinking about what you said," he murmured, adjusting her pillows. "About people changing."

  "Oh?"

  "When I was younger, I dreamed of running away. Becoming someone else entirely – a merchant, perhaps, or a schor. Someone free to make their own choices." He sat beside her bed, close enough that she could see the flecks of silver in his blue eyes. "But duty always won. Until recently, I'd forgotten how to want things for myself."

  "What changed?" Lia asked, though she suspected the answer.

  "You did." His hand found hers on the coverlet. "These past weeks, working with you, seeing this new side of you... I've remembered what it feels like to want something beyond duty."

  Her heart raced. "Cassian..."

  "I know it's impossible," he continued quickly. "My marriage will be arranged for political advantage. And you... well, your reputation alone would cause scandal. But I wanted you to know that if I could choose..." He trailed off, thumb tracing circles on her palm.

  "If you could choose?" she prompted breathlessly.

  He lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "I would choose the woman who took an arrow for me. Who challenges me intellectually and sees beyond my crown. Who makes me want to be more than just a perfect prince."

  Tears pricked her eyes. The weight of her deception pressed heavily on her conscience. "I'm not who you think I am," she whispered.

  "Aren't you?" He smiled sadly. "I think you're exactly who I see – someone strong enough to change, brave enough to sacrifice, and kind enough to care about a man trapped in gold."

  A knock interrupted them – healers arriving with fresh bandages. Cassian released her hand reluctantly, his professional mask sliding back into pce. But the air between them had shifted irrevocably.

  That night, ALICE's voice was almost gentle: "Significant retionship development detected. Warning: Emotional attachment may complicate future missions. Proceed with caution."

  But as Lia drifted to sleep, remembering the warmth of Cassian's lips on her hand, she knew it was already too te for caution. Her heart had chosen its path, consequences be damned.