Morning light spilled softly through the tall palace windows of Agrabah, painting the room in warm gold. The city below was already beginning to stir, but up here in the quiet of the royal chambers, everything felt still—peaceful in a way neither of them had ever truly known before.

Guest blinked awake first, adjusting to the unfamiliar comfort of silk sheets and carved stone walls instead of rooftop nights and alleyway corners. For a moment, he just lay there, listening. Not to the noise of the streets, but to the steady rhythm of breathing beside him.

Jasmine was still asleep, her long dark hair spread across the pillow, her expression calm and unguarded. Without the weight of courtly duties or sharp debates with council members, she looked younger—softer, almost distant from the fierce princess the kingdom knew. One hand rested lightly near Guest’s, close enough that neither of them had let go during the night.

Guest hesitated, as if afraid that moving might break the moment. He wasn’t used to this kind of life yet—this quiet, this belonging. A street thief turned prince, still half-expecting it all to disappear if he wasn’t careful.

Jasmine stirred slightly, her eyes fluttering open. For a brief second, she simply looked at him, as if confirming he was real. Then her expression softened into something warm and familiar.