Kazimir stood in the training grounds, bow in hand, his body tense. Across from him, Selis stood poised, sword glinting under the dim torchlight. Their sparring sessions had become a familiar rhythm, a dance of fire and shadow. The knight statues surrounding them stood as silent spectators to their battle.
As always, Kazimir kept his distance, loosing arrows at her with precision. And as always, Selis reduced them to ashes, her white flames burning away anything that got too close.
Then, she summoned a white flame behind him, banishing the shadows he relied on. He turned sharply, only to see her already stepping out of the fire, her sword raised.
This was where it usually ended. This was the moment she would place the cool steel of her blade on his shoulder, declaring her victory.
But this time...
There was no blade.
Instead, he felt hands, strong, calloused hands, pressing against his chest, slipping beneath the layers of his armor and clothes. Warm, scarred fingers traced his bare skin, firm yet impossibly gentle.
Kazimir's breath caught in his throat.
Selis was behind him, her arms wrapped tightly around his torso, holding him against her armored body. He could feel the cool steel against his back, feel her breath warm against his ear.
Then, a bite.
Her teeth grazed his ear, sending a shiver down his spine. Before he could react, her lips replaced them, pressing a soft kiss to the same spot. Then another. And another, trailing downward along his neck.
Kazimir stood frozen.
He had never been kissed before. Never been touched like this before. He had never even trusted anyone enough to let them touch him. And yet... Selis's touch didn't fill him with fear. It burned, not with panic, but with something else. Something new. Something that made his pulse pound in his ears.
Then he felt himself falling.
Not onto the cold, hard training ground, but onto something soft.
The world around him shifted, and suddenly, he was no longer in the training grounds.
He was lying on his bed in the castle.
Selis sat atop him, straddling him, her pale silver eyes locked onto his with an intensity that made his chest tighten.
Her armor was gone.
Now, she wore her white tunic, embroidered with silver, the crest of Umbrax displayed proudly on her chest.
She placed a hand against his chest, pressing him gently but firmly into the bed. Her other hand cradled the side of his head, her fingers threading through his hair with surprising tenderness.
Kazimir couldn't move.
She traced the rough pad of her thumb over his cheek, then slowly, teasingly, across his lips. His breath hitched as she slid it between them, pressing lightly against his tongue. It tasted of sweat and steel, but knowing that it was hers made it the best tasting thing in the world.
Her fingers tightened slightly around his head, holding him secure.
Then, she leaned down, her body pressing against his, her long, snow-white hair cascading over his face like silk.
Up close, he could see everything, every silver scar lining her pale skin, every faint line that told a story of battles fought and won.
She had an X-shaped silver scar over her right eye, a vertical one over her left, and another that ran from her upper left cheek, across her lips, down to the right side of her jaw. Smaller silver scars were scattered across her face. The rest of her body was just as marked, covered in scars from head to toe.
She was beautiful.
Not in the way stories described princesses, not in the way paintings praised symmetry or grace.
Her face was uneven, scarred, weathered, shaped by time and war. It was as if each blow she'd ever taken had left a mark that refused to fade. The result wasn't soft or pretty, but it was hers. Real. Earned.
Scars, pale as moonlight, crossed her body like silver threads. Some were small, barely noticeable, while others were deep and jagged, slashing across her arms, her back, her legs. Burn scars curled across her shoulders, her ribs. None of them were hidden now.
Most men might have seen her silver scars as hideous, but to him, they were something else entirely, marks of her strength, her endurance, her will to survive. They were a part of her. And because of that, they were beautiful.
Her hair was a wild, uneven cut. She likely trimmed it herself, without a mirror, without care. It fell in sharp, choppy layers, just long enough to look like it might've once been styled.
Her skin was unnaturally pale, untouched by the sun for what must've been centuries. Her lips were thin, cracked, the lightest shade of pink he'd ever seen.
And her hands, Gods, her hands, were coarse and calloused. The kind of hands that could break bone or cradle a blade. When she touched him, they were rough against his skin. But knowing they were hers made them feel amazing.
She didn't carry herself like a typical princess. There was nothing delicate about her posture, her presence. She stood like a knight, rigid, ready, always alert. She moved with the precision of someone who expected danger around every corner.
She smelled of sweat and steel. A sharp, earthy scent that clung to her like a shadow. He imagined she didn't even notice it anymore.
She was taller than any man he'd known. Broader, too. Her waist was thick with muscle, her frame powerful. Where others might expect softness, she was stone.
Her chest was flat, her hips just as narrow, more muscle than anything else, with barely an ounce of fat on her frame. He knew most men would turn away, call it unfeminine or even repulsive. But to him, it wasn't. To him, it was hers, and that made it beautiful.
Her voice was deep. So deep, in fact, that strangers might mistake it for a man's. There was no flutter, no artificial sweetness, only a calm, steady cadence that struck like the ring of iron on stone.
She had long since stopped caring how she looked, how she was perceived.
To most, she was too harsh. Too unattractive. Too unlike the fragile fantasies they clung to.
Yet to him, she was the most beautiful person in the world. She was the woman that saved his life, The woman he trusted more than anyone in his entire life.
Her silver eyes, usually so composed, now burned with something else. Something raw. Something hungry.
Kazimir's heart slammed against his ribs.
Fear clawed at him, not of Selis, but of the unknown. Of stepping into something he had never dared to before.
For a fleeting moment, he thought about pushing her away.
But then he breathed her in.
The scent of sweat and steel. The warmth of her skin against his. The calloused hands that had saved his life, twice.
This was Selis.
The only person he had ever truly trusted.
So, instead of resisting,
He surrendered.
Selis closed the distance between them, her lips capturing his in a slow, deep kiss.
A fire ignited in his chest, spreading through every inch of his body. She pressed into him, her legs tightening around him as she kissed him again, trailing her lips along his jaw, his cheek, his temple.
Kazimir had no words for what he felt.
Only fire.
Only her.
Then,
A whisper, soft as a breath against his ear.
"I love you."
The words echoed like a flame in his chest.
Then everything vanished.
—
Kazimir jolted awake.
For a moment, he lay there, disoriented. His body still thrummed with warmth.
Then reality settled in.
He wasn't in the castle. He wasn't on his bed.
He was still on the mushroom cap, its softness cradling him like a cloud. The sky above was still dark, the stars still twinkling in the vast expanse.
And he wasn't alone.
There was steel against the side of his head. A hand in his hair. Another resting lightly on his chest.
Slowly, hesitantly, he looked up.
Selis gazed down at him, her pale silver eyes warm with quiet amusement. A small smile curved her lips as she realized he was awake.
She ran her fingers gently through his hair, her touch as steady as ever.
"Good morning." Her voice was regal, smooth, but softer than usual.
Kazimir blinked.
He was lying on her lap.
The realization struck him like a lightning bolt.
Then, the memory of his dream.
His entire body burned with embarrassment. His face turned scarlet as the images flooded back into his mind.
He turned away quickly, covering his face with both hands.
Selis frowned, concern flickering across her expression. She placed a hand over his.
"Are you alright?" she asked, her tone laced with worry.
"Y-Yes! I'm fine!" Kazimir's voice was muffled behind his palms, but the panic in it was obvious.
Selis's eyes narrowed slightly.
"What happened?" she pressed, tilting her head.
"It was just a dream," he mumbled.
Selis studied him for a moment, then smiled.
"I hope it wasn't a nightmare," she said gently.
Kazimir hesitated.
Then, despite himself, a small smile tugged at his lips.
"No," he admitted, his heart still pounding. "Quite the opposite, really."