The attendant came with menus carved from polished wood, bowing as he placed them on the table. Before I could even touch mine, Kairan spoke.
"Roasted venison with juniper glaze," he said calmly. "Barley bread and herb stew."
His gaze flicked to me, assessing before returning to the attendant. "And akrot juice for the lady. Milk tea for me."
The attendant bowed again and withdrew.
I stared after him, then back at Kairan.
What even was akrot?
He hadn't so much as glanced at the menu even once. He sat there like the world simply arranged itself to his preferences, and did so gladly.
And someone help me because he looked unfairly good while ordering. Crying emoji.
The way his mouth moved, the dominance in his voice, the subtle shift in his throat as he swallowed....that stupid, distracting motion.
I leaned forward, elbows on the table, chin settling into my palms. I could admire him all day if he was a painting.
The attendant disappeared.
Kairan turned his attention back to me.
I exhaled. "What a handsome man."
Silence.
"You are a flirt, hmm?"
"Oh–yes— OH NO!" I shot upright so fast the sofa creaked, heat flooding my face. "Absolutely not!"
Oh my god.
I said that out loud.
I shook my head quickly, eyes dropping to the table, hands clenching on my lap. "No, Your Highness. I am not… that kind of person."
A low, warm sound reached me. A chuckle.
I looked up.
He had the back of his hand to his mouth, shoulders shaking slightly as he laughed. He actually laughed. It was noot that sharp, cruel curve of his lips I was used to.
It stole my breath.
I had never seen him like this.
When he finally spoke, there was still amusement in his eyes. "You are the complete opposite of what Meredia used to be."
I swallowed, fingers tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "I know," I murmured. "Is it… that noticeable?"
He tilted his head slightly. "You imitate her well," he said. "But your words betray you."
My heart skipped. "Betray me how?"
"They are careless," he replied calmly. "And honest. She was never honest."
I looked down at the polished tabletop, my reflection faint in the wood.
"So… I'm failing."
"No," he said immediately.
I looked up.
"You are surviving," he continued. "That is far more convincing."
For a moment, the connection between us felt closer and very familiar again. It always happened around him.
Then he added, dryly, "Also, Meredia never called me handsome to my face."
Heat climbed right back up my neck. It was not necessary to add that.
I groaned softly and covered my face with my hands. "Please pretend that never happened."
"I cannot," he said, entirely unhelpful and laughing."I have excellent memory."
I peeked at him through my fingers.
He was smiling again. No matter how embarrassed I was at that moment, but hearing such a heartful laugh from him for the first time, I was feeling very light. I couldn't understand why this was happening but there was a strange turmoil in my heart.
.
.
.
.
.
"You may open your eyes."
I did and the world shifted back into familiar walls and silk-draped calm. My chambers. Sunlight lingered at the edges of the windows, the sky still warm with the last gold of evening.
It was over.
This made me sad at once.
I lifted my face toward him. Kairan was already watching me.
"Will you release me now?" he asked quietly.
I blinked.
Then heat rushed straight to my face.
My hand was still clenched around his sleeve....knuckles tight, fingers curled as if I'd anchored myself there without realizing it. I pulled back at once, mortified. "I—sorry."
He didn't comment. He simply straightened, as if nothing had happened.
"So," he said mildly, "you now know I am capable of speaking without steel or blood."
"Huh?" I frowned, still flustered. "What do you mean?"
"You are always on guard around me," he continued. "Always waiting for violence."
I opened my mouth to deny it, then closed it because he wasn't wrong.
He was unpredictable and dangerous. And yet… today, I hadn't hesitated. I'd placed my hand in his without thinking. I'd walked beside him through crowds. I hadn't once feared he would hurt me.
The realization made my chest tighten.
I clenched the fabric near my heart, unsettled by my own recklessness. Why am I like this around him?
He studied me for a brief second longer, as if he'd sensed the shift in my thoughts. Then he turned away.
He took only a few steps toward the balcony....and vanished.
Just like that.
The room felt quieter in his absence.
I stared at the empty space where he'd been, my pulse still uneven, my fingers still warm as if his presence hadn't quite left yet.
Idiot. Absolute idiot.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
I knocked on the door of Father's office. It was already slightly ajar, so I hesitated for a moment, then pushed it open a bit wider.
Inside, Father was buried behind a towering stack of papers. What in the world was he even doing?
I leaned my shoulder against the doorframe and let out a soft sigh. He didn't seem to notice me.
I knocked again, a little louder this time but still no response.
Clearing my throat, I called, "Father… are you there?"
"Ah… yes, Eri. Come in," came his voice from somewhere behind the papers.
I stepped inside, weaving between the stacks, and finally reached his desk.
Peeking over the top, I saw him sitting with his palm pressed to his forehead, quill scratching furiously across parchment.
"Father, are you well? Is something troubling you?" I asked softly.
He nodded absently, not lifting his eyes. "Yes… a problem has arisen with the guild route, and I am unsure how to proceed. Kirill is not here to assist me."
I nodded slowly. Kirill had already left for the Royal Palace and was the one who usually helped him with these matters.
Sliding into the chair across from him, I leaned back and asked, "What seems to be the problem, Father?"
He let out a long, heavy sigh. "Eri… I fear my guild might fail."
I blinked, my eyes widening. "Fail… Father?"
Father's construction guild wasn't just any guild. it was responsible for roads, bridges, aqueducts, castles, fortifications...basically the backbone of Valkathra.
Its success made him one of the most reputable men in the kingdom. A failure here wasn't just a setback. It was catastrophic. I looked at him from a small space between papers.
He rubbed his temples, letting out a low, frustrated groan. "Yes, Eri. The problem lies with the construction route for the second wall. All materials....stone, timber, iron 3must pass through the Northern Passage. It is the only viable route, and it… has been compromised."
"Compromised?" I leaned forward. "By what?"
"Monsters," he said, his voice tight.
"Nocturnal creatures that strike after dusk. They've blocked the path multiple times. Our convoys cannot pass safely. If deliveries are delayed, the reconstruction of the second wall will be pushed back and without that wall, the kingdom's defenses are in jeopardy due to last monsters attack."
I frowned. "Why not move the deliveries during the day?"
He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. "The route is long, Eri. Two full days to traverse. Even starting at dawn, the convoy will still be forced to travel at night at some point. There's no avoiding it. And every night brings the same danger."
I swallowed, trying to wrap my mind around it.
"So… you're saying there's literally no safe way to get the materials through?"
Father let out a bitter laugh, hollow in the quiet office. "Exactly. I am caught between monsters and the clock. And if we fail… the second wall remains broken. The kingdom's defenses exposed against monsters."
Father looked exhausted and genuinely worried. This wasn't a small inconvenience, it was the kind of problem that could swallow a man whole. And I… I couldn't help him at all.
I stayed in his office for a while longer, just sitting there, before finally leaving.
I felt useless.
Kairan could solve this essily, probably. But why would he? Why would the Crown Prince step in to save my father's guild?
I sighed and made my way back to the library. The day dragged on painfully dull. Life in this world was boring unless you were a noble lady who enjoyed endless tea parties and idle gossip. I was neither.
I pushed the library doors open and headed straight for the shelves, searching for the book on witches I'd been reading earlier.
It's not here…
Ugh. I must have put it in some other shelf.
I moved to the next shelf. Nothing.
"I must've forgotten where I put it," I muttered, scratching my head.
"I'll just find another one…" I said, walking toward the section dedicated to witches and witchcraft.
I stopped short.
"What the hell?"
That section was entirely gone now and was replaced with some ancient cooking books.
I groaned.
Who could've taken them? Servants? No. Nobody ever touched the library shelves without explicit permission. Books here were treated like sacred relics.
I slouched back into my chair, staring at the ceiling.
…It had to be Kairan.
That man lived to inconvenience me. But I wouldn't see him until tonight...or worse, tomorrow. And my patience was not built for that kind of suffering.
"Argh!" I groaned louder, throwing my head back and covering my face with my hands. "Lord, have mercy on me."
A knock interrupted my dramatic plea. I peeked through my fingers.
Evelisse stood at the door, smiling brightly. Her sleeves, apron, and even her cheek dusted in flour.
"Lady," she said cheerfully, "do you want to cook with me today?"
My soul ascended.
Yes. Yes. A thousand times yes.
I shot up from the chair and hurried to her side. "Absolutely. What are we cooking?"
She beamed, eyes lighting up. "My mother's favorite dish, Velmira's Hearthbread."
I blinked. "That sounds important."
"It is," she said proudly. "It's a soft grain loaf baked with spiced cream and honeyroot. We usually made it when the family was together."
My boring day officially died a peaceful death. Any activity with Evelisse was never boring. "Lead the way," I said, already rolling up my sleeves.
.....
Kairan didn't come last night.
And now in morning, he stood across from me in the training grounds, rolling a wooden sword through his palm with reverent care, as though it were a sacred relic instead of a blunt stick.
"Are you prepared, my lady?" he asked calmly.
I nodded and raised my stance. "What are we doing today?"
"Hm." He paused, lips moving faintly as if he were chewing on a thought. Then his gaze lifted. "Try to strike me."
"…Huh?"
My arms dropped instantly. "Just say it if you want me dead."
A low and rich chuckle slipped out of him which was unfairly attractive.
Why did hot men laugh like that? It was criminal. The kind of sound men with too much power made without trying.
"How many times," he said mildly, "must I assure you that your death is not on my list of intentions?"
I rolled my eyes. "Yes. Of course. Very reassuring."
One thing I had learned about Kairan's training methods was that he followed absolutely no structure, nothing like Kirill.
Kirill broke lessons down carefully. Step by step small concepts, then larger ones. He taught like someone who expected you to survive the process.
Kairan?
On the very first day, he told me to fight him.
This man should not be allowed to teach.
Now I finally understood why Kirill had ranked first in academy theory. He earned that smugness. He deserved it.
I inhaled slowly, tightening my grip on the wooden sword. "Alright then, Your Highness. I'm coming."
"Excellent," Kairan replied smoothly. "Today, I shall remain on the defensive… and you will do your best to attack."
The smirk that followed was downright offensive.
"Do not hesitate," he added, tone polite, almost indulgent. "If you overthink, you will lose before you begin."
I narrowed my eyes. "You say that like I have a choice."
He inclined his head slightly. "In combat, my lady, you never do."
I lunged.
He didn't move even a step.
My strike met empty air as he shifted at the last possible second, the motion so minimal it felt like I'd missed on my own. Ugh.
"Too wide," he commented calmly. "You announce yourself before you strike."
I spun and swung again, faster this time.
Blocked again.
The wooden swords clashed, vibration rattling up my arms.
"Better," he said, voice low and approving. "But you rely too much on strength. You are not built for brute force."
I grit my teeth. "Wow. That is so encouraging."
"I am honest," he corrected gently, disarming me in one smooth motion.
My sword hit the ground.
He leaned closer, close enough that I could smell leather and steel.
"And honesty," he murmured, "keeps you alive."
My heart did a stupid little flip.
I hated that.
I stared at him a second too long and that was my mistake.
"Again," Kairan said evenly, already stepping back. With a casual nudge of his foot, he pushed my fallen sword toward me. "Do not freeze after failure. A battlefield does not offer time for reflection."
I rolled my eyes but bent down and picked up the sword. The moment I straightened, he began circling me slowly like a predator sizing up prey that still didn't understand it was prey.
"Hm. Your leg stance has improved," he sounded almost approving. "But your shoulders are rigid."
Before I could react, he tapped my collarbone lightly with the wooden blade.
I swallowed.
"Again," he said smoothly. "From the beginning, my lady."
We went at it once more. And again. And again.
No matter how many times I attacked, lunged, adjusted, tried to surprise him...he deflected everything with an ease.
He wasn't even breathing hard. Sweat trickled down my spine. Frrustration burned in my chest.
I rushed him again, reckless this time, pouring everything into the strike.
He parried effortlessly. My sword flew from my hands, skidding far across the training ground.
And then, his arm slid around my neck. It was not choking force but enough to immobilize.
"Pity," he murmured, lowering his chin above my head. "You lost."
I clenched my teeth, refusing to say anything. Slowly, I closed my eyes.
Then I let my body go slack against his.
"It's okay," I muttered quietly.
His hold loosened at once.
I lifted my gaze to look up at him, but before I could read his expression, he pushed me away, stepping back like a line had just been crossed.
"Enough," he clenched his jaw. "Rest now."
But he didn't say that while looking at me. He wae looking past me, attention snapping elsewhere.
I followed his gaze.
A woman stood at the edge of the grounds, dressed far too foreign for this kingdom.
.
…Am I dead?
Is that an angel?