(Lyria's POV)
The early morning light poured through the tall, elegantly framed windows of my bedroom, casting a warm glow that filtered delicately through the ivory curtains. It painted golden lines across the polished wooden floor, illuminating the space with a serene beauty that felt almost ethereal. For a brief, precious moment, I surrendered to the embrace of sleep—no duties, no titles, no worries.
Just quiet.
But tranquility is a fleeting visitor, and my reverie was soon interrupted by a soft knock at the door, a gentle sound that seemed to echo in the stillness of the room.
"Your Highness," a maid's voice floated in, careful and soft, as if she feared disturbing the fragile peace I had managed to capture. "It is seven-thirty."
I remained still, cocooned in the remnants of last night's thoughts—thoughts of Raven. Her voice lingered in my mind, soothing yet strong, her calm eyes reflecting a depth of understanding that often felt rare in my world. I recalled how she had stood resolutely between danger and those she cared for, a silent guardian without a hint of hesitation. The memories replayed in my mind like a cherished melody, and I realized I had drifted into slumber far too late, my body now stubbornly resisting the call of morning.
The door creaked open quietly, and the maid stepped inside, her presence a gentle intrusion into my sanctuary. She approached my bedside, lowering her voice to a whisper, as if afraid to shatter the remnants of my dreams. "Princess Lyria, it's time to wake up."
Still, I lay there, lost in the haze of sleep.
With a soft sigh, the maid raised her voice just a fraction. "You must get up now, Your Highness. There will be guests at breakfast."
That single word cut through the fog of my mind, jolting me into awareness.
"…Guests?" I murmured, my eyes fluttering open as I turned my head on the pillow, blinking against the soft light. "Who would visit this early?"
As she laid my clothes neatly across the bed, the maid answered with a casualness that belied the importance of the moment, "The noble family from Ardellum."
The mention of their name sent a jolt of surprise through me. I shot up in bed, my heart racing. "What?" I frowned, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, the reality of the situation hitting me like a cold splash of water. "Aren't they supposed to leave today?"
"Yes," the maid replied, smoothing the fabric of my dress with careful hands, her movements practiced and efficient. "But they will depart after breakfast."
I groaned quietly, letting my head drop into my hands, the weight of the morning pressing down upon me like a heavy cloak.
Of course.
Leora and Leonhart. An early morning visit—just what I needed to start my day.
"Please hurry, Your Highness," the maid said kindly, her voice a soothing balm against my mounting anxiety. "A bath has been prepared."
With a resigned sigh, I pushed the covers aside and swung my legs over the edge of the bed, my feet touching the cool floor. The day was unfolding, whether I was ready or not, and I knew I would have to face whatever awaited me at breakfast, with all the grace and poise expected of a princess.
As I stood, the sunlight enveloped me, infusing me with a sense of determination. Today, I would navigate the complexities of noble conversations, the expectations of my title, and perhaps, if fate allowed, find a moment to breathe amidst it all.
After a warm—but far too short—bath, I returned to my room, the steam still clinging to my skin. The maid, a gentle presence in the midst of my morning chaos, helped me dress in a flowing gown of soft lavender, its fabric whispering against my skin. She arranged my hair into an elegant braid, weaving in delicate strands that framed my face, before bowing and leaving me to my thoughts.
As the door clicked shut, I felt a rush of air fill the silence. I walked straight to the balcony, eager to escape the confines of my room. Stepping outside, I inhaled deeply, savoring the cool, fresh air that greeted me. The scent of blooming flowers from the garden below wafted up, mixing with the crispness of the morning. Above, the sky stretched out in a soft blue, a canvas for the birds that flitted about, their cheerful songs creating a harmonious backdrop to the day.
It was a beautiful morning, yet a heaviness settled in my chest, a weight that felt all too familiar.
"I really don't want to see that noble family this early…" I muttered to myself, resting my hands on the balcony railing, my thoughts swirling with the impending interactions that awaited me.
Just then, a knock sounded at the door, breaking my reverie.
"Come in," I called, my voice echoing softly in the stillness.
Cara entered without ceremony, exuding a confidence that contrasted sharply with my own turmoil. She walked straight onto the balcony beside me, leaning her elbows against the railing as she glanced at me, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, arching an eyebrow. "The king is waiting for you. Why aren't you downstairs yet?"
I sighed, the tension in my shoulders evident. "Because I don't want to go down and face Leora and Leonhart this early in the morning," I admitted, feeling a sense of dread wash over me.
A knowing smirk curled at the corners of Cara's lips. "Oh? So you're willing to leave Raven alone with Leora?"
My head snapped toward her, surprise flickering in my eyes. "...What?" I frowned, confusion knitting my brow. "Why did you bring Raven into this?"
Cara tilted her head, her gaze steady. "Because Raven is coming to the palace."
"I know," I replied quickly, my heart fluttering at the thought. "She'll come later—around noon—for my training."
Cara shook her head slowly, a teasing glint in her eyes. "No, Lyria. Raven is coming now. The king summoned her."
I froze, the words sinking in like stones in my stomach. "She's… coming now?" I repeated, my heart suddenly racing, a mixture of excitement and apprehension coursing through me.
Cara laughed, a light and airy sound. "Careful. You'll trip."
I realized in that moment I had already jumped to my feet, nearly tangling my own legs in my haste.
"Yes," Cara continued, amusement dancing in her features. "A servant was sent to fetch her."
I covered my mouth instinctively, trying—and failing—to hide the smile that blossomed across my face. Raven was coming. Now.
Without thinking, I started toward the door, the prospect of seeing her igniting a spark of energy within me.
"Where are you going?" Cara asked, her voice pulling me back to the present.
I turned back quickly, trying to maintain my composure. "To breakfast," I said, forcing my voice to sound steady. "I shouldn't be late. Father summoned me."
Cara raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Oh? I thought you said you didn't want to go downstairs and see Leora and Leonhart."
I hesitated for half a second, a smile creeping onto my face. "Well… Raven is coming."
Cara burst out laughing, the sound ringing like music in the air. "You're not even trying to hide it anymore."
My cheeks flushed, warmth spreading across my skin. "I stopped trying a long time ago," I admitted, feeling a mix of embarrassment and exhilaration.
She crossed her arms, an amused smirk playing on her lips. "Sure you did, Princess."
With that, we left the room together, walking down the corridor toward the dining hall. The polished marble floor beneath my feet felt cool, the soft echo of our footsteps accompanying us like a familiar friend. Sunlight streamed in through the tall windows, painting golden patterns along the walls, yet my attention was nowhere near the beauty surrounding me.
With every step, my heartbeat quickened, a rhythm of anticipation thrumming through me. I told myself it was nothing—just breakfast, just Raven arriving as usual.
And yet—
My chest felt tight with a blend of excitement, nervousness, and something dangerously close to hope.
What would it be like to see her again? To share laughter and training, to steal moments that felt stolen from the world? The weight of expectation felt heavy, but beneath it all shimmered a glimmer of possibility that made the journey feel worthwhile.
As we approached the dining hall, I took a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever awaited me. Today could be different. Today could be the day I finally found the courage to embrace what I truly desired.
I was smiling.
It took me a moment to realize it—my cheeks began to ache, a warm sensation blooming in my chest that felt both foreign and familiar. I savored the moment until a sudden wave of doubt crashed over me, pulling me back into the realm of uncertainty.
I slowed my steps, glancing sideways at Cara, who walked beside me with her usual relaxed stride, her presence a comforting anchor in the sea of my thoughts. "Why did Father summon Raven today?" I asked, genuine confusion tightening my brow. "Did something happen?"
The more I pondered the question, the more unease bubbled within me. My mind raced with possibilities, and before I could rein in my emotions, my tone sharpened, betraying my agitation. "Is it the council again?" I pressed, irritation bubbling up like a boiling pot. "Why won't they leave Raven alone? They're all the same—talking endlessly, pretending they're useful. But when things become truly dangerous, when action is needed, they're the first ones to run and hide."
Cara laughed softly, the sound a stark contrast to my frustration. She reached out and placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder, squeezing lightly. "Relax, Princess," she said, her voice soothing. "I don't know why the king summoned her, but I do know it has nothing to do with the council."
She tilted her head, studying my face, her expression teasing yet warm. "And now," she added, a playful glint in her eyes, "wipe that murderous expression off your face and smile. We're here."
I stopped in front of the grand dining hall doors, their intricate carvings gleaming in the morning light. Cara gestured toward them with a gentle nudge. "Go on. I'll wait for you in the garden."
Taking a slow, steadying breath, I straightened my back and reached for the handle, feeling the cool metal beneath my fingers.
With a quiet push, I opened the door and stepped inside.
The dining hall was already occupied, a scene that felt both familiar and daunting.
At the head of the long, polished table, Father sat with his usual composure, regal as ever, his presence commanding yet inviting. Mother was beside him, her posture elegant and her expression warm, a comforting reminder of home. Nearby, Princess Evanna swung her feet slightly beneath her chair, her focus solely on her plate, blissfully unaware of the undercurrents swirling around us.
Across from us sat our guests.
Lord Aldren Varrow, broad-shouldered and dignified, commanded respect even in silence. Beside him, Lady Seraphine Varrow wore a calm smile, her refined posture reflecting years spent in noble courts, a woman who knew the weight of expectation. Their children were nearby—Leora, perfectly poised, her demeanor as sharp as her gaze, and Leonhart, slouched slightly in his chair, a hint of restlessness emanating from him.
I moved forward and bowed politely, my smile carefully controlled, masking the turmoil beneath the surface. "Good morning," I greeted, my voice steady. "Please forgive my lateness."
Lord Aldren waved a hand dismissively, a warm smile gracing his lips. "Think nothing of it, Princess. A little delay is of no concern. Please, sit."
As I took my seat beside Evanna, I felt it immediately.
Leora's gaze was like a knife, cutting through the air with precision. Her brows were drawn together, eyes sharp and fixed on me with something dark—was it jealousy? Annoyance? Resentment? I couldn't quite discern the emotion, but it sent a shiver down my spine.
I chose to ignore her, focusing instead on the breakfast spread before us, the aroma of freshly baked bread and roasted meats filling the air.
Breakfast began quietly, the clinking of silverware punctuating the silence.
Father and Lord Aldren engaged in conversation, their voices steady and measured as they spoke of knights, military strength, and border matters. Each word carried the weight of political consequence, a reminder of the responsibilities that lay upon their shoulders. Mother and Lady Seraphine exchanged pleasantries, discussing gardens, travel routes, and distant capitals with polite enthusiasm, their laughter mingling with the clamor of the room. Leonhart and Leora whispered to one another, their conversation too low to hear, but the glances they cast my way were laden with unspoken words.
None of it held my attention.
My eyes drifted again and again toward the door, a silent plea for Raven's arrival echoing in my heart. Why was she late? I couldn't shake the unease that settled within me, the gnawing worry that something was amiss.
The longer I sat there, surrounded by the chatter and laughter, the more I felt the weight of my own thoughts pressing down. Would Raven arrive in time?
Why was she late?
Raven was never late.
Minutes passed, stretching uncomfortably long, each tick of the clock resonating in my mind like a drumbeat of anxiety. With every second, my chest tightened a little more, a constricting band of worry wrapping around my heart.
Then—
The door opened.
I turned so abruptly that my chair shifted beneath me, the sound of wood scraping against marble echoing through the room.
And there she was.
Raven Nightthron.
She stood just inside the doorway, hands clasped behind her back, a picture of quiet strength. She wore fresh clothes—a loose black shirt and dark trousers—simple yet strikingly elegant on her. The fabric draped perfectly, emphasizing her lithe frame, and somehow, she wore it with a confidence that turned heads.
Her hair was still slightly damp, strands clinging faintly to her neck, a testament to her hurried preparations. She must have bathed in haste before coming. Her face was paler than usual, shadows resting beneath her eyes, betraying a fatigue I hadn't noticed before.
She looked tired.
But she stood straight, calm, unshaken.
Still strong. Still Raven.
My heart began to race, fast and unsteady, as a smile bloomed across my face before I could stop it, a reflexive reaction to her presence.
A servant stepped forward, his voice clear and formal, slicing through my thoughts. "Your Majesty, Raven Nightthron, as ordered."
He bowed and left the room, the heavy door thudding softly behind him.
Raven inclined her head slightly, her demeanor respectful yet unwavering. "You summoned me, Your Majesty."
Father smiled warmly, his eyes sparkling with a hint of pride. "Yes. Good morning, Raven. I apologize for calling you so early. I assume you haven't eaten—please, join us."
I knew she would try to refuse.
And she did.
But Father insisted, his tone leaving little room for argument.
I was just about to stand—to go to her side—when Leora moved first.
She rose quickly, crossing the space between them with an eagerness that set my teeth on edge. Taking Raven's arm with both hands, her smile was wide and bright, a facade of friendliness that felt all too calculated.
"Come sit with me," Leora said eagerly, her voice lilting as if they were old friends.
Raven hesitated for only a moment before nodding once, her resolve seeming to waver under Leora's charm.
Leora guided her to the seat beside her, and my fingers tightened around my napkin, gripping it until the fabric creased beneath the pressure.
Leora's hand remained on Raven's forearm, her fingers lingering far too long, an intimacy that sparked something sharp and uncomfortable in my stomach. She leaned closer, whispering something into Raven's ear. Raven tilted her head politely to listen, but I could see the tension in her shoulders.
Leora laughed—soft, sweet, charming.
And Raven…
Raven did not pull away.
Something twisted painfully in my gut, a mix of jealousy and frustration. I couldn't stop watching.
Leora sat too close. Raven allowed it. She didn't encourage her, but she didn't stop her either.
Raven stared at her plate, barely touching the food. When Leora leaned in again and gently took Raven's hand, whispering once more, Raven offered a small, restrained smile before carefully withdrawing her hand and lifting her fork.
She took a single bite.
Slow. Reluctant.
She didn't want to eat.
I felt my appetite disappear entirely, a weight settling in my stomach as I watched the scene unfold.
When our eyes met—just once—I looked away immediately, lowering my gaze to my plate.
I didn't know whether I was more hurt by how close Raven sat to Leora or happy that Raven had looked at me.
As breakfast began to draw to a close, I sensed it—a subtle shift in the air. A quiet tension settled in, like the calm before a storm, a feeling that something important—something dangerous—was about to happen.
Raven placed her fork down carefully, as if even the smallest sound might disturb the fragile calm of the room. She lifted her gaze toward my father, her posture straight, her voice steady despite the exhaustion written across her face.
"Your Majesty," she said calmly, "may I ask why I was summoned?"
My heart skipped.
Father didn't answer.
Instead, Lord Aldren Varrow set his cup aside and leaned forward slightly, folding his hands together. His expression was measured, composed—the look of a man who had already decided the course of this conversation.
"I was the one who requested your presence," he said, his tone firm. "I wished to thank you personally. You saved my daughter's life… and you taught my reckless son a lesson he clearly needed."
Leora straightened at his words, pride flickering across her face, while Leonhart shifted uncomfortably in his seat, a shadow of embarrassment creeping across his features.
Lord Aldren continued, his eyes never leaving Raven. "I will not waste your time," he said. "My daughter has spoken at length about your strength. About what you did—how you stopped a deadly blow with your bare hands."
My chest tightened, the gravity of his words weighing heavily on my heart.
"I rule a kingdom that values warriors," he went on. "True warriors. And you are exceptional."
The words seemed to echo through the hall, a proclamation that hung in the air.
"Therefore," he said, voice firm, "I would like to offer you a position among my personal knights."
Silence fell.
Not the comfortable kind.
The suffocating kind.
Every gaze in the room turned toward Raven, and I felt my breath hitch as panic surged through me. My hand rose instinctively to my chest, fingers pressing over my racing heart.
Raven…
I whispered her name without realizing it, the sound barely escaping my lips.
Fear wrapped tightly around my ribs.
Will she accept? Will she leave? Will she go with them—away from the palace, away from me?
The thought alone made my vision blur, the edges of my sight darkening.
I hadn't told her yet. I hadn't found the courage.
Please, I begged silently, my pulse pounding in my ears. Please don't say yes. Don't leave. Not yet. Not like this.
Leora held her breath beside Raven, fingers inching closer to Raven's hand. I felt my own fingers tighten around the fabric of my dress, knuckles whitening.
Lord Aldren wasn't finished.
"You will be granted high rank," he said smoothly, his voice persuasive. "Wealth. Status. A place in my army. Full training, influence, and a promising future. Few are ever offered such an opportunity."
He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in.
"What do you say?"
Time stretched unbearably thin.
Then Raven spoke.
Her voice was calm. Unshaken.
"Your offer is truly generous," she said. "But I must refuse."
For a moment, I didn't understand what she had said.
Then—
Relief crashed over me like a wave, a rush of warmth that chased away the chill of anxiety.
I drew in a sharp breath, realizing only then that I had been holding it. My shoulders trembled slightly as the tension drained from my body, a flood of gratitude washing over me.
She wasn't leaving.
She chose to stay.
Leora's eyes widened in disbelief.
She grabbed Raven's hand impulsively. "Why?" she asked, frustration lacing her voice. "Is the offer not enough? If you want more, I'm sure my father would—"
Raven gently but firmly pulled her hand away, a look of quiet determination settling over her features.
"I have no interest in titles, wealth, or status," Raven said quietly. "I have responsibilities here. People who depend on me."
Her gaze lowered slightly, the weight of her words hanging in the air.
"My family is here. I cannot leave them."
She inclined her head politely, a gesture of respect.
"Thank you for the offer. I truly appreciate it. But I cannot accept."
If there is nothing else, I will take my leave. She bowed slightly and said, "I wish you a pleasant journey."
And with that—
She turned and left the room, the door closing softly behind her, a gentle finality that echoed in the silence.
I didn't even realize I was smiling until Leora noticed.
Our eyes met, and her expression hardened instantly, anger flaring sharp and unmistakable in her gaze.
I didn't care.
I stood up so quickly that my chair scraped against the floor, the sound punctuating the tension in the air.
I had to go after Raven.
I had to thank her. I had to ask if she was alright. I had to tell her she looked tired—too pale—like she hadn't slept at all.
"Raven—!" I whispered urgently, weaving between chairs, my heart pounding with each step.
I reached the doorway—
And she was gone.
I rushed into the corridor, turning left, then right, desperation fueling my movements.
Empty.
She had disappeared with her usual quiet efficiency, slipping away before anyone could stop her.
I stood there for a long moment, breathing slowly, trying to gather my thoughts.
Then I smiled faintly, a glimmer of hope breaking through the haze.
It's fine, I told myself. I'll see her again in a few hours.
My hand returned to my chest, fingers resting over my heart, a small comfort amidst the uncertainty.
"Raven…" I whispered, the name escaping my lips like a prayer.
I missed her already.
I worried about her.
I wanted—desperately—to be near her.
And more than anything…
I was terrified of losing her.
As I turned back toward the dining hall, I made a silent promise to myself.
Soon, I thought. I'll tell her. Or at least… I'll find a way to get closer.
For now—
I would stay by her side.