The Duchess (GxG)

The morning sun spilled through the tall windows of the suite's kitchen, bathing the marble counters in warm gold. Everything felt still, peaceful—even the air seemed to hum with a kind of slow, measured rhythm. Reya was already seated at the counter, dressed in her signature dark uniform, cradling a cup of tea between her gloved hands. Her breakfast plate was neatly arranged—scrambled eggs, toast, and some fresh fruit—of course it was. Precise, controlled. Just like her.

I, on the other hand, was curled into the booth seat by the window, legs folded beneath me as I sipped my coffee and nibbled on a croissant, my sketchbook spread across the table. The drawing I'd started the day before—the one of Reya—had evolved overnight in my mind, and now I was filling in the detail of her eyes. They were intense, and frustratingly difficult to capture. There was something unreadable about them, something just out of reach.

"You have your first security simulation today," Reya said without looking up.

I blinked, looking over the rim of my mug. "Simulation?"

Reya nodded once, cutting into her eggs. "Part of your royal preparedness training. Faux-escape. Hostile scenario. We run it once every few months for the heirs."

I stretched a little, already dreading the idea of running through the palace like a soldier in heels. "Sounds dramatic."

"It is. For good reason."

I flicked my pencil across the paper, adding the sharp line of her jaw. "Will you be yelling at me with a whistle? Or do I get the honour of being dragged through dirt by some angry man named Garth?"

She finally looked at me, cool and unimpressed. "You'll be working with me."

"Well. That does change things," I said, grinning over my coffee. But Reya didn't smile. She just sipped her tea and glanced at the clock on the wall.

An hour later, I followed Reya past the royal gardens, my heels crunching softly on the gravel. We stopped in front of a building I'd never really paid attention to before—low, sleek, clearly older than the palace but well-maintained. It didn't feel like it belonged in the royal estate at all. There were cameras on the corners and a keypad by the steel door. It smelled faintly of metal and eucalyptus.

"This is the Security Quarters," Reya said, entering a code. "Training facilities are in the back."

I stepped in behind her and blinked as we moved through the corridors. It was another world—dimly lit, utilitarian, humming with quiet tension. Officers nodded to her as we passed, some giving me curious glances. A few whispered to each other. The duchess, in their space. I was aware of how out of place I looked—more like I belonged at a gallery opening than inside a security compound.

The simulation room was a large open space set up like a portion of the palace. Hallways. Doors. Props. It looked like a film set, only colder.

"All right," Reya said, her tone clipped. "This is a worst-case scenario. Armed intruders. Power failure. You're alone in your suite. Your goal is to reach the safe room without getting caught."

"Do I get a weapon?" I teased.

She stared. "No."

"Right. Of course. Just charm and sheer good looks."

Reya didn't flinch. "You have ten seconds."

And then it started. Lights dimmed. A loud claxon blared overhead. Reya barked instructions through an earpiece while I stumbled down a hallway, heart racing—not from fear, not yet, but from the absurdity of it all.

It was ridiculous. I ducked through a fake hallway, dodged a man dressed like an intruder, and darted through another door while giggling under my breath. It was like a school play with more smoke machines.