The library was quieter than usual that night, the only sound the soft rustling of parchment as I absently turned the pages of a book I hadn't been paying attention to. My mind still lingered on the council meeting—on the heated arguments, the whispered doubts, the weight of it all pressing heavily against my chest. But there was one thing I couldn't escape: the gnawing, inexplicable pull I felt every time I thought about Alexander.
I leaned back in my chair, exhaling slowly. I wasn't sure how I could keep the flood of thoughts in check when his face seemed to follow me wherever I went. The way he had stood by me during the meeting, unwavering in his loyalty, his intense gaze never leaving mine. It unsettled me, yet it was a strange comfort too. And now, as I sat here in the quiet of the library, it seemed as though the room itself was filled with his presence, an invisible weight in the air.
I closed the book in frustration and ran my fingers through my hair, trying to clear my thoughts. But there was no escaping it. No escaping him.
A soft sound broke through my reverie—a faint scraping of boots against stone. I turned toward the door, my heart skipping a beat, though I didn't know why. The door creaked open, and I saw the familiar figure of Alexander standing in the entrance. He paused when he saw me, his eyes locking onto mine for a brief, charged moment. He looked... different. Less the stoic knight and more the man, raw and real in a way that made my pulse quicken.
"Princess," he greeted me, his voice deep and steady, but I caught the slight edge to it. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."
My breath caught in my throat. It felt as though the room had shrunk, the walls pressing closer as I met his gaze. The tension between us was palpable, a crackling energy I couldn't ignore. I opened my mouth to speak, but my voice seemed to fail me for a moment.
"No," I managed finally, forcing my words to sound composed. "Not at all. What brings you here?"
He stepped further into the room, his presence filling the space around me, even though he remained at a respectful distance. His dark cloak seemed to absorb the light from the flickering candles, his broad shoulders almost as intimidating as the way he held himself—so calm, so in control. Yet beneath that control, I could see something more.
"I thought you might need some company," he said, his tone a bit softer than usual. "After the council... I know it must have been... a lot."
I swallowed, unsure of how to respond to the unexpected softness in his voice. I wasn't used to hearing him speak this way—no longer just the dutiful knight but something... different. Something closer. His words seemed to stir something in me, a swell of emotions I was trying desperately to contain.
I didn't answer right away. Instead, I let my eyes wander to the book in front of me. The words on the pages had long since stopped making sense. The space between us was thick with unspoken things. And I realized, as I sat there, that I was waiting for him to fill that space. For him to say something that would shatter the tension that had been growing ever since he entered.
But he said nothing more, only stood there, watching me with an intensity that made it hard to breathe.
"I appreciate it," I said finally, my voice quieter than I intended. "But I'm not sure what to say. There's so much to think about, Alexander. So much weighing on my mind."
His gaze softened, his jaw tightening slightly as if fighting some internal battle. His eyes flicked to the book I had abandoned, and then back to me, as though he was trying to figure out how to bridge this distance between us.
"You don't have to say anything," he replied after a beat, his voice low, almost as if he were confiding in me. "But if you ever need to... talk, or if you need someone to listen... I'll be here."
I felt the warmth of his words seep into my chest, a strange comfort, and a dangerous one. My heart fluttered, and I had to force myself to focus, to remind myself that he was a knight—a protector—someone whose duty was to stand by me, not to stir these feelings inside me. Not to make my pulse race in ways I couldn't explain.
I took a steadying breath, trying to push the thoughts down.
"I'm not sure it's wise to talk about these things, Alexander," I said, my voice firm yet tinged with something softer. "There are lines that shouldn't be crossed. Not between us."
I saw the flicker of something in his eyes—hurt, perhaps? Or maybe it was just the quiet understanding that existed between us now. But he didn't retreat. He didn't step away. He stood there, resolute.
"I know my place, Princess," he said, his voice hushed but steady. "But that doesn't mean I can't care about what happens to you. To the kingdom."
The words hung in the air like a thick fog, and for a moment, I thought my heart might break. The vulnerability in his voice—it wasn't just a knight speaking. It was Alexander. The man who had sworn to protect me.
I stood slowly, pushing my chair back. The quiet tension was too much to bear in my seat. I moved to stand before him, the cool air of the library swirling around us. We were close—closer than I had intended.
"I don't know what I'm doing anymore," I whispered, more to myself than to him. "I never thought... I never thought I'd be in this position. With this weight. With all of you relying on me."
His gaze softened, and I saw the hint of a smile—a rare thing on his face. But there was something sad in it, too. "You're stronger than you know, Ria," he said quietly, his voice so tender it made my chest tighten. "And I'll stand by you, no matter what."
The words hit me harder than I expected. They wrapped themselves around my heart, squeezing it tightly. I could feel the warmth of his words, but I couldn't let myself lose control.
I forced a smile, though it didn't reach my eyes. "I know, Alexander. I know."
The air between us seemed to thicken again, but this time, it wasn't just tension—it was something else. Something unspoken that lingered like a storm on the horizon.
He stood there for a moment, watching me closely, his eyes never leaving mine. Then, without another word, he turned to leave.
"Goodnight, Princess," he said, his voice rougher now, as if he were fighting the same emotions that tangled in my chest. "I'll be here when you need me."
I watched him go, feeling the absence of his presence the moment he stepped out of the room. But something inside me stirred, something I couldn't quite name. A fear, perhaps. Or a longing. A desire that I couldn't suppress, no matter how hard I tried.
The room was quieter now, but it felt different. It felt heavier. The storm I had been avoiding was now closer, and I wasn't sure I had the strength to face it.
I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to collect myself. But as I looked out into the night, I knew one thing for certain—nothing would ever be the same again.
-
𝙰𝚕𝚎𝚡𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛'𝚜 𝙿𝙾𝚅
The library was still, the only light coming from the flickering candles that lined the shelves. It had been a long day—full of tension and politics that threatened to overwhelm even the strongest of hearts—but something about the silence of this room, the quiet space where Ria had sought refuge, drew me in.
I hesitated in the doorway, watching her. She was sitting at a table, surrounded by books that seemed to be little more than a distraction for the storm brewing in her mind. Her shoulders were tense, her brow furrowed in a way that told me she was lost in thought, but it wasn't just the weight of the council or the pressure of her position that weighed on her. It was something deeper—something I felt in the air between us whenever we shared a room.
I hadn't intended to intrude, but I couldn't help it. Not when I knew the burden she carried, not when I knew how alone she must have felt. If there was anyone who could understand that feeling, it was me.
"Princess," I greeted softly, my voice betraying a hint of the concern I had tried so hard to keep in check. She looked up, her expression guarded, and for a moment, I thought maybe I'd made a mistake coming here. But then her lips parted, as if she hadn't expected anyone to approach her in this moment of quiet vulnerability.
When she invited me in, I moved forward, trying to hide the tension that had been building in me all day. I needed to be strong for her—calm and composed, as I always had been. But in the back of my mind, all I could think about was how she looked—how every move she made seemed to pull at something deep inside of me. Something I wasn't ready to acknowledge.
I offered her what I thought might comfort her—my presence. But as I spoke, I realized the words didn't come out quite the way I'd intended. "I thought you might need some company," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. The moment the words left my mouth, I regretted them. Company? Was I offering comfort, or was I just trying to find an excuse to be near her?
Her response was quiet but genuine. "Not at all. What brings you here?" Her words were calm, but there was an edge to them, as if she didn't know exactly how to handle this—handle me.
I stood at a distance, watching her. There was something in the way she looked at me, something I couldn't quite decipher, but it made my chest tighten. Maybe I shouldn't have come. Maybe she didn't need me after all. But I couldn't bring myself to leave. Not yet.
"I know it must have been... a lot," I said, trying to give her space, to make her feel comfortable. But the way she responded, the way she stood before me—so composed, yet so vulnerable—only made everything worse. It stirred something in me, something I hadn't felt before. The words that followed—if you need someone to listen—felt too soft, too honest, in the moment.
She didn't say anything at first. Instead, she stared at me, her eyes searching mine. The silence grew thick, charged, and all I could think was how much I wanted to be near her—to protect her from the burdens she carried. But as she finally spoke, it was clear that she felt something else, too.
"I'm not sure it's wise to talk about these things, Alexander," she said, her voice firm yet softer than I had expected. "There are lines that shouldn't be crossed. Not between us."
The words cut deeper than I'd anticipated. I'd known the boundaries between us existed, of course. She was the princess, and I was the knight—her protector, her sworn servant. There was no room for anything beyond that, not in this world, not in this court. And yet, here I was, feeling something I had no right to feel.
She was so close now. Closer than I ever thought I would be to her. My heart raced in my chest as I tried to keep my composure, tried to remind myself of my place. She needed me to be her protector, nothing more. But damn it, the way she looked at me, the softness in her voice, it made me forget all that.
I nodded, stepping back a little, trying to give her the space she needed. "I know my place, Princess," I said, trying to make it sound like I wasn't struggling inside. "But that doesn't mean I can't care about what happens to you. To the kingdom."
She stood slowly, and I found myself holding my breath. The way she moved, the way she stood before me, her presence filling the room—everything about her was so... commanding. So breathtaking.
Her eyes softened, and for a moment, the weight of everything seemed to lift. But then she spoke again, her words quiet, almost to herself. "I don't know what I'm doing anymore... I never thought... I never thought I'd be in this position."
Gods, how I wanted to reach out to her, to tell her that she wasn't alone. That I would stand by her, no matter the cost. But I couldn't. I had no right.
"You're stronger than you know, Ria," I said softly, my voice almost breaking. "And I'll stand by you, no matter what."
The words slipped out before I could stop them, and as soon as they left my lips, I realized the truth in them. I would stand by her, for as long as it took. Even if it destroyed me.
She smiled, but it was faint—almost sad. "I know, Alexander. I know."
And with that, I turned to leave, my heart heavier than I could bear. I couldn't stay, not when it was clear that I was starting to lose control. I was a knight. A protector. That was all I could be.
But as I reached the door, I stopped. I shut it softly behind me, the quiet thud of the door closing echoing in the hallway. My breath came out in a harsh exhale as I leaned against the door, my head resting on the cold wood.
"Why am I acting so stupid?" I whispered to myself, my voice rough with frustration. "Gods... why does she make me feel this way?"
I closed my eyes, fighting the urge to break down right there in the hall. I couldn't keep doing this. I couldn't keep feeling this way about her.
And yet... I knew I would.
I turned away from the library door, the weight of everything still pressing on my chest. My heart raced, and my mind buzzed with thoughts of her. Ria. It was like I couldn't escape her, no matter how hard I tried.
I walked down the corridor, my footsteps echoing in the silence of the castle. It was late—most of the staff had retired for the night, and the halls were deserted. The only sound was the steady rhythm of my boots on the cold stone floors, a stark contrast to the whirlwind inside me. Every step felt heavy, each one leading me closer to my chambers. But the thought of that small room, so close to hers, made me tense.
When I had been assigned as Ria's personal knight, I had known that my proximity to her would be a constant challenge. I would protect her, yes, but I hadn't anticipated how close I'd come to her in every way. How her presence would seep into everything. Her smile. Her voice. The way she made me feel like a fool with just a glance.
I reached my door, but I didn't open it immediately. Instead, I stood there for a moment, my hand resting on the cold handle, and let my mind drift back to earlier that evening. I could still see her, standing there in that gown, the raven feathers embroidered into the fabric catching the light as she moved. The way the black fur of the dire wolf framed her neck... It was a sight I couldn't forget. She had looked so powerful, so regal—so beautiful.
I rubbed a hand over my face, trying to shake the image of her from my mind, but it was no use. The vision of her in that dress lingered, her brown hair cascading over her shoulders like silk, the soft waves flowing effortlessly with each step she took. And her eyes—those blue eyes. They were like an ocean, a place where I could lose myself forever. Every time I looked into them, I felt something pull at my chest, something deep and raw that I couldn't explain.
Why did she have this effect on me? Why did she make my heart race, my pulse quicken, even when she was just a few feet away?
I pushed open the door to my chambers and stepped inside, closing it behind me with a soft click. I moved across the room mechanically, not really noticing the familiar surroundings—the bed, the desk, the simple furnishings that were meant for a knight, not for someone who was beginning to lose control of himself.
I ran my fingers through my hair, standing in the center of the room, letting out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. I wanted to be strong. I had to be. But every time I thought of her, I felt like I was slipping. I was the one who was supposed to be steadfast, the one who was always calm and composed. And yet, when it came to Ria, I couldn't seem to hold onto either of those things.
The way she'd looked at me tonight... Her gaze had been full of questions, full of things I couldn't answer. It was like she saw right through me, like she knew exactly what I was thinking, even though I barely understood it myself.
She was too much for me. Too beautiful, too smart, too... everything. She wasn't just a princess. She wasn't just my charge, the woman I swore to protect. She was something more, something I wasn't ready to face. And yet, every time I saw her, every time I heard her voice, I knew I was already too far gone.
I couldn't stop thinking about her. About how her presence had filled that quiet library, how her words had stirred something in me that I couldn't shake. She was royalty—an untouchable, unreachable figure in this world. And yet, the way she made me feel... It was like I could see her for who she truly was. Not just a princess, but someone who, despite the weight of her title, carried a burden I would never truly understand.
I walked to the window, staring out at the darkened courtyard below. The night was still, the stars overhead casting faint light over the castle. I let my eyes wander, but all I could see in my mind was her. Ria.
"Gods," I whispered, my voice hoarse. "What is happening to me?"
I ran a hand through my hair again, trying to shake the thoughts from my mind, but they clung to me like a heavy cloak. The thoughts of her, the way her eyes sparkled when she spoke, the way she looked at me as if she might see straight through my armor. I couldn't get away from it. And I wasn't sure I even wanted to.
The tension between us was undeniable, and it made my skin prickle every time she came near. It was dangerous—so dangerous. But as much as I knew I needed to pull back, to keep things professional, to remember my place, I couldn't.
I closed my eyes, leaning against the window frame, trying to calm my racing heart. It was foolish, all of it. I was a knight. A servant to the crown. I wasn't supposed to feel this way about her.
But as I stood there in the quiet of my chambers, my thoughts swirling with images of Ria, I realized one thing.
I wasn't sure I could stop feeling this way. Not anymore.
And that terrified me more than anything else.
I stood there, my back pressed against the cold stone of the window frame, staring out into the night, but seeing nothing at all. My heart was pounding in my chest, my thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and longing that I couldn't shake. And then the words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them.
"I'm supposed to be her knight, not her lover," I muttered to myself, the bitter weight of the truth hitting me harder than I expected.
It was a reality I couldn't escape. I was bound to her by duty, by honor, by a promise I had sworn to uphold. I was meant to protect her—nothing more. There could be no space for these feelings, no room for what was slowly, steadily growing inside me. She was a princess. I was her knight. We couldn't... be anything else.
The thought of it made me sick, in the pit of my stomach. Sick not because of her, but because of the world that would never allow us to be what I foolishly longed for. A world where she would never be mine, where she would be forced to marry someone else. A prince, perhaps. Another man, one who was more suited for her, more worthy of a woman of her status.
The idea of her, with another man, made something inside me twist painfully. I saw it clearly in my mind—her standing at an altar, her soft blue eyes staring at a man who would claim her as his. A prince who would take her hand in his, who would be the one to guide her through the rest of her life. A prince who would kiss her, who would hold her the way I could never.
My chest tightened with a sickening ache, something dark and possessive swirling deep inside me. I tried to push it away, but it clawed at me, relentless. I wasn't supposed to feel this way. I wasn't supposed to care. But gods, it hurt. The thought of her with someone else—someone who could be everything I couldn't—it made my blood boil, my mind cloud with frustration.
I rubbed my face with my hands, breathing deeply, trying to steady myself. It was foolish. All of it. She was a princess. She had a duty, a future to fulfill, and no matter how much I wished otherwise, it was never going to be with me.
But still, the thought lingered. The idea of her with another man. It tore at something deep inside me, something that I didn't know how to contain. How could I possibly stand by and watch that? How could I continue to protect her, knowing that someone else would take the place I so desperately wanted for myself?
I let out a breath, almost a growl of frustration, but the question kept echoing in my mind, louder and louder. Why does she make me feel this way?
It was wrong. All of it. She deserved better. A future that didn't have to be tainted by someone like me. And yet, no matter how much I tried to push these feelings away, they wouldn't relent. They only grew stronger, more insistent, until they were all I could think about.
I turned away from the window, pacing restlessly across the room. I had to focus. I had to get a grip. I couldn't afford to let these feelings interfere with my duty. But the more I tried to bury them, the more they rose to the surface.
The only thing I knew for sure was that it didn't matter how hard I tried to ignore them, I couldn't make them go away. And gods help me, I wasn't sure I even wanted to.
-
𝚁𝚒𝚊'𝚜 𝙿𝙾𝚅:
I couldn't sit still. Not tonight. Not after everything that had happened.
My feet moved restlessly across the floor of my bedroom, each step taking me nowhere and everywhere at once. The night was thick with silence, the flickering candlelight casting shadows against the stone walls. Yet the quiet only heightened the storm swirling inside me.
I could feel it—the same tension that had gripped me earlier in the council chamber, when I had looked into Alexander's eyes, felt his gaze linger on me. There was something between us now, something I couldn't explain. Something that both thrilled and terrified me all at once.
I ran a hand through my hair, feeling the weight of the raven-embroidered gown press against my skin, as if it were a reminder of the responsibility I carried. But it was more than that—it was a reminder of my duty, of the future I was expected to fulfill. A future that didn't include Alexander.
The thought of it made my chest tighten painfully. He was my knight. He was sworn to protect me, nothing more. And yet... every time I saw him, every time he spoke, I felt something that went far beyond duty. I felt drawn to him in a way that scared me.
He was so much more than just a protector.
But what did that mean? I wasn't supposed to feel this way. Not about him. Not with everything at stake. I had a kingdom to protect, an alliance to secure, and a future that depended on me being strong. I couldn't afford to let these feelings disrupt everything I had worked for.
And yet, I couldn't push them away. No matter how hard I tried.
The soft echo of Alexander's voice played in my mind, the way he had spoken to me earlier, the warmth that had briefly flickered in his gaze. It made me ache inside, a feeling so foreign, so vulnerable, that it sent a shiver down my spine. I didn't want to feel this way. I couldn't. Not when my future was already mapped out, and not when I knew that the man who held my heart in his hands could never truly be mine.
He was a knight, sworn to my father, to my kingdom. His life was one of service, one of duty. He could never be mine in the way I wanted him to be.
But gods, the thought of him with anyone else—it made something sharp and painful twist deep inside me. The idea of him standing beside another woman, touching her the way I longed for him to touch me—it was unbearable.
I stopped pacing, my hands trembling as I pressed them against the windowsill, staring out into the darkness of the night. The moonlight bathed the world below in a pale glow, but it didn't ease the turmoil inside me.
And yet... my thoughts kept returning to him. His eyes, the way they had softened when they looked at me, the way he had protected me, not just as a knight, but as something more.
He was sworn to my protection, nothing more.
But was that truly all there was? Could it be?
The bitter reality of my situation crashed over me like a wave. I had no right to dream of more. Not with him. Not when the kingdom was on the edge of war, when Halvaren was waiting for us to falter. I couldn't afford to let myself fall for him. Not when the future of my people depended on me remaining strong, unshaken.
Yet the thought of him, of being near him, made everything else fade away. Even now, as I stood in the stillness of my room, I could almost feel his presence behind me, a warmth that pulled at something deep inside me. A warmth I couldn't ignore, no matter how hard I tried.
I turned away from the window, pressing my palm to my chest, as if I could hold back the flood of emotions that threatened to overwhelm me.
No. I had to be strong. I had to stay focused. I couldn't afford this.
But as the thought of Alexander, of his steady gaze and unwavering strength, flooded my mind once again, I realized the truth.
I couldn't stop thinking about him.
And that realization made my heart race, a feeling of helplessness settling over me. No matter what I told myself, no matter how much I tried to ignore it, the truth remained clear.
I was falling for him. And the thought terrified me.
I pressed my fingers to my temples, trying to push the thoughts away. It was no use. The more I tried to shove them aside, the more they crowded into my mind. Alexander. The alliance. My father's expectations. The future that seemed to loom over me like an unmovable mountain.
Maybe a walk in the forest will do me some good.
The thought was almost a whisper in my mind, a flicker of something familiar that I used to rely on. Before all of this—before the political pressure, before Alexander's presence had become more than just a comforting weight by my side—taking a walk in the forest had always been my way of clearing my head. The stillness of the trees, the soft rustling of leaves in the wind, the scent of the earth beneath my feet—it had always calmed me. It was the only place where I could truly think, without the weight of the crown pressing down on my shoulders.
It was the only place where I could breathe.
I moved quickly, slipping out of my room and down the hall, away from the expectations, away from the questions that circled endlessly in my mind. I needed to be alone. I needed to be free, if only for a moment.
The forest was a short walk from the castle, and by the time I stepped out into the cool night air, the tension in my chest had already begun to ease. I wrapped my cloak tighter around my shoulders and took a deep breath, feeling the night's chill fill my lungs. The world outside was quiet, the only sound the occasional rustle of branches in the wind. It was peaceful, serene in a way I hadn't felt in days.
I walked deeper into the woods, each step bringing me further from the chaos of court, from the weight of my title. The trees surrounded me, their ancient trunks towering above like silent guardians. In the distance, the faint sound of a stream burbled softly, and I could almost imagine I was back in a time when I didn't have to carry the burden of a kingdom on my back.
But then, as I rounded a bend in the path, I stopped abruptly. There, just a few paces ahead, was a familiar figure standing with his back to me.
It was Alexander.
The moonlight caught his silhouette, casting long shadows over the forest floor. He was standing still, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, as if he were waiting for something—or someone. His posture was as rigid and calm as ever, but even from behind, I could feel the quiet intensity that seemed to radiate off him.
For a moment, I simply watched him, the quiet of the forest making his presence all the more striking. He seemed so at ease here, so out of place yet perfectly at home. It struck me how often he seemed to disappear into his own thoughts, just as I did. Maybe, in some strange way, this was his version of clearing his head, too.
Without thinking, I took a few steps closer, and that was when I saw him turn just slightly, as if sensing my presence. For a split second, our eyes met.
Neither of us moved.
I could feel the air between us thicken, as though the distance that had always separated us had suddenly closed in on us. The tension that had followed me all evening seemed to flare between us, a spark that neither of us knew how to put out.
We stood there in silence, both of us caught off guard by the unexpected proximity, both of us perhaps a little lost in the moment.
It was me who finally broke the silence, my voice almost too soft to be heard above the rustle of leaves.
"I didn't expect to see you here," I said, my words barely above a whisper.
Alexander's expression softened just slightly, though his eyes never left mine. "I could say the same," he replied, his voice low and steady, but there was an undercurrent to it. A tension that I couldn't quite place. "I find the woods are a good place to think."
I nodded, my heart beating faster as I took a hesitant step forward. "I used to come here to clear my head. It always helped."
His gaze lingered on me for a moment, almost searching, as though weighing my words. Then he spoke again, his voice just above a whisper. "I understand. It's the only place where everything else seems to fade away."
For a moment, we just stood there, the silence stretching between us like a thin, delicate thread. It felt like time had slowed, and yet, I couldn't shake the feeling that we were both on the edge of something. A line we were both hesitant to cross, but one we could both feel hanging in the air.
Suddenly, Alexander took a step back, his posture stiffening again. "I should return to my quarters," he said, his voice a little sharper than before.
I nodded, though I felt the sting of the distance he was putting between us, even though he hadn't physically moved far. "Yes. I should—"
Before I could finish my sentence, I noticed his gaze shift toward something behind me, his hand tightening on the hilt of his sword. A flash of something dangerous flickered in his eyes.
I turned to look, my heart leaping in my chest. But there was nothing there.
Still, I felt a shift in the air, a tension building that hadn't been there before.
As Alexander turned to walk away, I felt a strange pang in my chest, as if I were losing something I hadn't quite realized I had. The air had shifted in a way that made everything feel... heavier. I was still standing in the forest, my breath shallow, as if trying to hold onto something fleeting, something I couldn't quite grasp.
But just as the silence stretched between us, Alexander stopped. His back still to me, he turned his head slightly, a glimmer of something mischievous dancing in his eyes.
"You know," he said, his voice low and laced with a teasing edge, "this is a perfect time to spar, don't you think?"
I blinked, caught off guard by the suggestion. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he turned fully to face me, his posture relaxed but his eyes intense. The playful challenge in his tone was unmistakable.
"A spar?" I raised an eyebrow, my heart suddenly thumping louder. I wasn't sure if I was relieved or more tense, but I couldn't help a small smile forming on my lips. "Are you sure you want to test your skills against a princess?"
The challenge in his eyes flickered, and his stance shifted into something more defensive. "We both know you're more than just a princess, Ria," he said, his voice tinged with something that made my stomach flutter. "Besides, I've been trained to handle far more than what you could throw at me."
I couldn't stop the rush of adrenaline that coursed through me at his words. Maybe it was the pressure of the evening's conversation, maybe it was the lingering tension between us, or maybe it was simply the challenge that I couldn't resist. Either way, I stepped forward, my own stance shifting as I prepared myself for whatever he would throw at me.
"Fine," I said, my voice steady, though my pulse was already racing. "Let's see what you've got."
Before I even finished the sentence, Alexander lunged. His movements were swift and precise, his training obvious as he blocked my first strike easily. The sound of our swords clashing echoed through the forest, the rhythm of the fight blending with the sounds of the night around us. My mind was focused, adrenaline sharpening every movement, every strike. For a moment, I was free—free from the thoughts, the expectations, and the weight of my title. It was just me and him, nothing else.
But as the spar continued, something shifted. The tension, that electric charge in the air between us, began to escalate with every move we made. Alexander's eyes never left me, watching, anticipating, and every time we locked swords, it felt like something more than just a simple clash of steel. My heart beat faster, my breaths shallower, as I became acutely aware of his proximity, the strength in his arms, the way his body moved with grace and power.
Suddenly, I misstepped. My back hit something hard—a tree, I realized too late. The impact left me winded, and before I could recover, Alexander was standing before me, his body inches from mine. His chest was rising and falling with the same rapid breaths I could feel in my own chest. The sword in his hand lowered, though his eyes never left mine. They were darker now, something unreadable flashing in them.
We were so close. Too close. My heart hammered in my chest, and I felt heat rush to my face. His scent—woodsmoke, leather, and something uniquely him—filled my senses, making everything around me feel hazy. The forest had disappeared. It was just the two of us, caught in the tension that had been building for what felt like days, weeks even.
I should've stepped back, should've said something to break the silence, to regain control of this ridiculous moment. But I didn't.
I couldn't.
His gaze flickered to my lips, then back to my eyes, his chest still pressed against mine, his breath warm against my skin. For a heartbeat, we stood there, suspended in time. And then, as if my body had made the decision for me and just said 'Fuck it.", I tilted my head up and closed the space between us.
The kiss was nothing like I expected. It was fierce, raw, like a storm crashing through a calm night. His lips were urgent against mine, but soft enough to coax me into the kiss, to pull me deeper into it. His hands, still holding the sword, seemed to forget it existed as he pressed me closer to him. The heat between us was palpable, the space we'd always kept between us evaporating like the fog in the early morning.
IThe kiss deepened, more urgent this time, the tension between us breaking free as our lips moved in sync, the pressure growing as if we were two forces that could no longer be kept apart. His hands slid from the sword, gripping my waist, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us. I could feel the heat radiating off his body, the thrum of his pulse matching my own as our breaths mingled, rapid and unsteady.
My hands found their way to his chest, feeling the strong, steady beat beneath his armor. My fingers grazed the fabric of his tunic, the fabric straining against the muscles that flexed beneath it. The kiss was fevered, desperate, as if we both knew we shouldn't be doing this but couldn't stop. Our tongues clashed in the kiss, a fight for dominance that somehow felt just as natural as breathing. It was wrong, but at that moment, it didn't feel like it was.
Every logical part of my brain screamed for me to pull away, to stop before things went too far, but my body wasn't listening. My chest pressed against his, the weight of the moment, the intensity, making me feel like I was falling into something I couldn't control—and, for once, I didn't want to. The fight between us turned from swords and shields to bodies tangled together, heat radiating off both of us as the kiss deepened even further, desperate and demanding.
His hands slid up my back, his fingers brushing the delicate fabric of my gown, sending jolts of fire through my body. I could feel his breath hot on my skin as he pulled me impossibly closer, his lips trailing from mine down to my jaw, my neck. But the moment was fleeting, an urgency we couldn't hold forever.
When we finally pulled away, gasping for breath, the air around us felt thick, charged, like something had changed between us in ways I couldn't yet understand. My heart was hammering in my chest, and my mind raced to catch up with what had just happened. His eyes were wide, dark with something I couldn't name—desire, shock, regret? I wasn't sure.
I took a step back, my body trembling slightly as I tried to steady myself, my chest still heaving with the weight of the kiss that had left me breathless. "We... we shouldn't have done that," I muttered, my voice barely a whisper, the words barely making sense to me.
Alexander was equally silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on me, as if he was trying to process the same thing. His chest rose and fell as quickly as mine. "No," he said, his voice strained, "we shouldn't have."
But the truth of it hung between us, undeniable. What had just happened was something that neither of us could take back.
"Ria..." He took a step toward me, his voice soft, hesitant, but I shook my head, my heart still racing, my thoughts a chaotic mess. I couldn't face him like this—not when the consequences of our actions were just beginning to sink in.
I backed away slowly, my hands shaking at my sides. "I—Alexander, I can't," I whispered, the reality of what we'd done crashing down on me like a wave. "I'm supposed to be a princess. And you—you're my knight."
I turned, feeling my heart crack with every step I took away from him. This—this—was not supposed to happen. Not now. Not ever.
I could hear him moving, feel him standing there, just behind me, his presence heavy in the air. But I couldn't bear to look back. Not yet. Not until I could understand what had just happened, and what it meant for both of us.
All I knew was that, somehow, I had let everything slip out of my control.