Moonlight filters through the curtains, bathing the room in a soft white glow. If I tilt my head back at just the right angle, I can see out into the night sky, the stars twinkling to greet me. They beckon me to come to them, to leave the comfort of my room and step into the night beyond the walls.

Despite my exhaustion from earlier, I can't sleep. My mind races, my heart pounds, and no matter which way I toss and turn in my bed, I simply can't close my eyes and rest.

Instead of trying to feint sleep some more, I roll out of bed. It is a matter of minutes before I'm dressed in a pair of breeches and a loose shirt, the clothes of a common man.

It's so much easier dressed like this, not having to worry about tripping over my skirts or getting mud on my petticoat. Rose had made these for me upon my request, though she had been very reluctant about it.

If my father knew I owned mens clothing, he would kill me.

Good thing he doesn't, I think to myself with a grin.

I tie my thick dark hair back in a loose bun with a piece of twine and then tuck it under an old cap. Hopefully now, dressed in men's clothing and with my hair back, people will assume I am just a messenger boy.

I slip out of my room, peering around the corner of the door before proceeding to dash down the steps.

Outside, the night air is cool and crisp, making my lungs burn slightly. The soft breeze tastes of coming rain, brushing over my face, caressing my hands. I marvel for a few moments, just taking it all in.

This is my favorite time, when the world is quiet except for the croaking of the frogs and the chirping of the crickets. Behind me, the fountain gurgles, water trickling over black stone. A firefly twinkles in the sky far above me, floating on the breeze as if it is trying to join the stars.

I go to a tree at the far corner of the courtyard. The rough bark underneath my hands feels like the skin of an old man, wrinkled and craggy. Its firmness under my fingers is comforting and I pull myself up into the branches.

A careful foot here, a tug on a branch there, and soon I am halfway up the tree, hidden from the ground by a blanket of leaves. I can feel a peaceful smile growing on my face as my cares disappear. I left them back in my room, and now it's just me and this tree.

I reach my hand up again, but instead of meeting a brach, I grab onto something warm and soft. I curse, flinging myself backwards without thinking. Suddenly, there is nothing under my feet and my stomach does a flip flop.

However, I am not falling, suspended in the air. For a second, I wonder when I learned to fly. Then I feel the warm hands under each one of my shoulders, holding me up. I reach up and hoist myself back to my previous perch, this time eyes searching the darkness.

It takes me a moment to find the figure hiding in the branches. The shock of his blonde hair against the dark green gives him away, a beacon of light in the shadows of the night.

I curse under my breath. It's Silas.

Of course I would be lucky enough to choose the tree that has one of my "wonderful" suitors in it. My heart pounds.

"Princess Evelynne?"

Shoot.

Somehow, as I was falling, the cap had become dislodged from my head, my dark hair spilling down my back. There is no use denying that it's me now. I can only hope that he will keep this a secret from my father.

I glare back at him and say nothing. Like they always say, silence is your best friend in a conflict.

"Why are you... dressed like that?" he asks after a moment. I can't tell if it's a serious question or if he is trying to hold in laughter. He raises his eyebrow with a smirk and I realize that it could be a bit of both. I scowl up at him.

"It's not important." I suddenly realize how close we actually are to each other, and I shift until my back is pressed up against the side of the tree. Silas seems to notice as well, and his cheeks flush red.

We are level to each other, but I have to lean to the side in order to see his face through the branches. Shadows fall over his cheeks, making him look like someone had taken dark paint and swiped it over his jaw and across his eyes.

"What are you doing up in a tree?" he attempts to make conversation again.

"I could ask you the same thing," I respond. He chuckles.

That statement was supposed to be defensive, not funny. I glower at him, but my chest is a little lighter and I can already feel the tension in my muscles bleeding away.

I scold myself silently. Stay on your toes, Ev. No use in making friends with the enemy.

But now, part of me knows that he's not the enemy. The real enemy is my father.

"I couldn't sleep," Silas says, leaning forwards, his arms draped across a branch.

It's sort of odd seeing such a well dressed nobleman lounging in a tree. His smirk screams superiority and his sparkling eyes make a statement that I can't quite decipher. It's as if he's another language that I'm trying to interpret, my brain making the letters into words that don't make sense.

Maybe I'm dreaming. I've dreamt of stranger things. I pinch the inside of my wrist just to check, wincing as pain bites at my skin. Not a dream, then.

"This is always were I go when I can't sleep," I say simply.

Silas gives a little bow of his head, grinning. "Well, my lady, I'm deeply regretful for invading your treasured tree. I'll vacate immediately."

With that, he drops out of my view. I find myself smiling a little at his flowery language. It's as if he is two different people inhabiting the same body, two different personalities juxtaposing against each other. One half of him is a nobleman who goes to fancy dinners, bowing at all the right times and saying all the right words. The other half is an explorer who climbs trees, who is rough around the edges, who longs to have a free spirit even as he is chained by his title.

We aren't much different, I realize.

I drop after him, feet hitting the dirt and knees bending upon impact. Silas stands a few meters away, brushing the leaves out of his hair. In moments, he looks back to the way I met him, his hair perfect and his smile a bright white.

The adventurer is put away and out comes the nobleman.

"You don't seem very pleased with the tournament, if you don't mind me saying," he says.

"To put it mildly," I reply, keeping my words careful. "I don't want to marry someone I don't know and I'm not interested in anyone who would drop to such levels as to compete in a tournament for love."

Silas just chuckles again, but it is different. This is not the carefree laugh of someone trying to flirt. This is not the laugh of trying to be kind. This is the laugh of someone who can understand exactly what I'm saying but can do nothing about it.

I would be afraid. Except on several occasions, I have laughed like that, have chuckled even though in my heart I can see the hopelessness I face.

I find myself understanding a little more about Silas with every passing moment.

"You really feel that way?" he asks me and I nod, pulling the cap back over my head. I tuck the stray strands of my hair back underneath the fabric folds.

It's then that I hear the sound of a branch cracking, the loud snap echoing in the courtyard like the snap of a whip. I flinch and spin around, heart jumping in my chest.

A second man steps into my view. It's another one of the suitors, and it takes me a few moments to remember his name.

Colin.

Oh lord, not this cheery fellow. The memory of him snubbing me stings, no matter how much I pretend it doesn't. 

Colin stops in front of us. His dark cloak is pulled around his shoulders and I'm reminded of all the stories about night spirits my mother used to read to me. 

Her voice echoes with a pleading urgency in my head now. "A night spirit is a shadow, a flutter of a person in the summer breeze. The darkness is their cloak and the stars are their eyes and they bring a cold beauty to everything they touch." 

A voice brings me out of my thoughts. The breathless moment is gone. 

"You shouldn't be out here this late at night, my lady," Colin says to me, with a bow. Of course he would be able to make even a bow feel condescending.

"And why is it in your interest to tell me how to spend my time?" I snap back.

Colin just looks back at me, his expression unreadable. I can tell there is something he wants to say, but he keeps it to himself. He pulls at the cuffs of his brown jacket.

"I'm just concerned for your safety," Colin says. He is no longer looking at me, eyes fixed on Silas. "You could meet all sorts of vermin at this time of night."

I wonder for a moment if he is even talking to me. His speech seems to be directed towards the other man.

I feel anger bubbling in my chest. I am certain I would have exploded, except the cool night air and the twinkling of the stars always seems to abate my anger even if just a little.

"Is that what this is?" I ask. "Are you jealous that Silas is out here talking to me? Are you worried he is getting an upper hand on you and will win the competition?"

"Honestly, I don't give a damn about that." Colin is unmoving, as if he has become one of the trees in the courtyard around us.

"Well then this doesn't concern you," I snarl, spinning on my heel and stalking away. He didn't care? That is fine by me. I don't care about him or what he thinks.

Even as I think this, I know it's not true.

Silas is still walking beside me, head turned down and hands clasped in front of him. His gold cufflinks glint in the moonlight, screaming for attention.

"That was a rude thing of him to say." Silas speaks reluctantly.

"I don't really care what he thinks," I respond, but even I can hear the lie in my own voice. "I don't want to be married... and I could care less about him."

Silas just grins. "I can't deny that doesn't make me happy."

"Why? Because it eliminates one member of our competition?" I ask him, bitterness making my voice as sharp as a sword. I remember suddenly why I have kept my heart so guarded, remembered why Silas is here.

"Nothing that shallow, Princess," Silas responds. "I've just never liked that oaf of a man."

The mischievous glint in his eyes makes me grin unexpectedly.

I have reached the staircase back to my room and pause. Something in me doesn't want Silas to follow me, doesn't want his presence to invade the safe place that I have created for myself. That hallway is my temple and I know as soon as it's invaded, it will never be the sanctuary that it once was.

Thankfully, Silas can sense my hesitation.

"I must take my leave, my lady. It is very late and I must be ready for the competition tomorrow." Silas bows low, golden hair drooping over his eyes. "Goodnight."

With that, he is gone, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

Silas and Colin knew each other?

For some reason I am surprised, even though I knew that this must be a common thing. There aren't that many noblemen, so the likelihood they know each other is very high.

Even more shocking, Silas hates Colin?

The longer I think about it, the more it makes sense. Silas is all manners, all chivalry. Colin practically excreted a bitter hatred towards the world that made my insides curdle. Where Silas is polished and presentable, Colin is dirty and crude.

They are like two opposing forces, pushing back on each other at the same time. When one pushes, the other pushes back with twice as much force.

I'm not sure which one will come out on top. However, one thing remains certain in my mind. This competition will be anything but peaceful.

I can only hope that not much blood will be spilt on account of me.