Andrew had not slept since the night of the ball.Every time he closed his eyes, all he saw was Janette’s face—pale, stiff, forced into a smile she did not mean.And Carlos beside her… watching her like something he owned.Andrew had always been careful. Calculated. But this time?This time, he was desperate.No one else seemed to see the danger.He had gone to Helen—twice.Then a third time.And a fourth.Each time she dismissed him with the same calm, clipped tone:“Be careful, Andrew. The king is not to be challenged. Let this matter rest.”But how could he?He knew Janette.He saw the fear she tried so hard to bury.He saw the way the king moved around her—too close, too controlling, too… dangerous.So Andrew did the one thing he promised himself he would only do in absolute emergency:He called in a debt.A life-debt.Her name was Mara.A maiden he once rescued during a border ambush—young, silent, clever, a shadow with legs.She owed him her life, and Andrew never intended to co