Faith straightened her shoulders and summoned her most professional smile. “That sounds lovely.”
She was not some swooning tourist. She ran a business, negotiated supplier contracts, and had spent years proving she could handle whatever life threw at her. One intense prince with excellent bone structure was hardly going to derail her now.
Probably.
Merral gestured toward the sweeping staircase that curved up into the palace’s upper levels. “Shall we?”
The corridors they walked through felt alive with history—pale stone veined with silver, tall windows that caught the dying light of twin suns and threw it in dancing patterns across the floors. Banners in royal blue and silver shifted lazily in cross-breezes that carried scents of something floral and exotic.
But it was the paintings that made Faith’s steps slow.
Tigers. Dozens of them lining the walls in massive gilded frames. White tigers with distinctive black striping, captured in oils that made their pale blue eyes seem to follow her movement. Some showed solitary beasts in jungle settings. Others depicted what looked like battle scenes, with tigers fighting alongside armored warriors. A few portrayed more domestic scenes—tigers lounging in palace gardens or walking beside robed figures.
“Symbolic?” Faith asked, nodding toward a particularly striking portrait of a massive white tiger standing on a cliff overlooking the palace.
“Heritage,” Merral replied simply, but something in his tone suggested layers she wasn’t catching.
Within minutes, her suite doors opened to reveal luxury that belonged in magazines rather than reality. Vaulted ceilingssoared overhead, draped with gauzy curtains that shifted like captured clouds. A massive balcony overlooked the twin suns as they painted the horizon in shades of gold and orange. Everything was elegant without being ostentatious—comfort elevated to art.
“Welcome!”
Faith turned to find a young woman bouncing on her toes near the sitting area, her bright blue eyes sparkling with genuine excitement. She was petite and energetic, with black hair that fell in loose waves and expressive hands that moved as she talked.
“I’m Liora, your attendant for the week.”
Attendant.Faith barely managed not to laugh. The absurdity of having a personal attendant when she’d been washing her own dishes and balancing her own books just hours ago struck her as surreal.
“Liora will be your guide to Nova Aurora,” Gerri explained, her designer heels clicking across the polished floor. “Someone to answer questions about the festival, palace customs, and the unique people here.”
Unique people.Faith filed that away as another diplomatic euphemism for whatever made this planet different from Earth. Enhanced humans, maybe. Or particularly formal alien cultures with complex social hierarchies.
Merral and Gerri began their retreat—Merral with dignified efficiency, Gerri with a wink that felt loaded with secrets Faith wasn’t sure she wanted to uncover.
“What did she mean by unique?” Faith asked once they were alone.
Liora’s hesitation lasted exactly one heartbeat before her bright smile returned. “Most of us here are shifters.”
“Shifters,” Faith repeated slowly.
“Yes! White tiger shifters, specifically. Especially the royal line.” Liora’s enthusiasm was infectious, completely at odds withthe earth-tilting revelation she’d just delivered. “Prince Kovrak’s lineage is one of the strongest.”
The room seemed to tilt sideways.
Actual, literal, turn-into-tigers shifters. Faith’s gaze snapped back to the tiger paintings lining the corridors, understanding crashing over her. Not symbolic. Not heritage in the abstract sense.
Family portraits.
That explained the predatory stillness she’d sensed in Kovrak. The way his pale blue eyes had seemed to see straight through her. The electric charge that had shot through her when their skin touched—her body recognizing something wild and dangerous even when her mind had no context for it.
Gerri absolutely knew I would have balked at this detail.
“Faith?” Liora’s voice carried gentle concern. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” Faith managed, though her voice sounded distant to her own ears. “Just... processing.”
Liora moved toward what Faith had assumed was a closet door, but when it opened, it revealed a walk-in space the size of her entire bedroom back home. Racks of clothing lined the walls in perfect organization—silk blouses, structured gowns, cocktail dresses in every color imaginable. Heels arranged by height. Jewelry displayed like museum pieces.
All in her size.