The meeting ended with the subtle thunder of chairs scraping against stone, voices rising in cautious optimism as the agreement between the Wolves and the Ravens was sealed. It wasn't the final victory—not yet—but it was the first true alliance in generations. My father's hand had clasped King Marduk's, and though no banners were raised, something had shifted. A step toward unity. Toward peace.
But as I walked toward the staircase that would lead to my chambers, I felt it again—that creeping sensation down the back of my neck. I paused, glanced behind me.
No one.
Still, my steps quickened, the corridor growing colder the farther I walked from the council room. I could feel it now—footsteps. Soft, measured. Following me.
Then suddenly, I was yanked backward, slammed against the cold stone so hard the breath flew from my lungs.
My back ached. My head spun. But nothing compared to the shock of Darius's face, just inches from mine.
"You arrogant little girl," he growled, slamming his hand against the wall beside my head. "You think you're important now? Standing in council chambers like a man—like your voice matters?"
I barely had time to react before his hand shot up and clamped around my neck. Not enough to choke me, not yet—but enough to pin me, to make the message clear.
"You humiliated me in front of everyone," he snarled, spit lacing the edges of his words. "I was born to rule. You were born to marry and bear children, not to speak of alliances or strategy. You're a puppet playing queen."
I pushed against him, struggling, gasping. "Get off me—"
"You think this world will ever accept a woman like you?" he shouted, tightening his grip. "A woman who speaks when she should stay silent? You're nothing but a mouthy little brat pretending to be powerful."
His words were hot and sharp, like acid on my skin. I fought harder, clawing at his wrist, but he was stronger, fueled by hatred and something far more dangerous—entitlement.
"And now look at you," he sneered, his free hand sliding toward my waist. "Out here alone, no guards, no daddy to save you. What are you going to do now, Princess? Scream?"
Tears stung at the corners of my eyes, not from fear, but from fury. Shame. Helplessness. I twisted beneath him, kicking out, trying to break free. His hand was inching lower, possessive, violating.
"I'll teach you what your place really is," he hissed.
But then—
A blur. A hand. A roar.
And Darius was gone.
Ripped backward so violently, he hit the floor with a crack of bone and rage. I staggered forward, coughing, clutching my throat, the cold wall at my back gone.
Alexander.
He was over Darius in seconds, grabbing him by the front of his tunic and hauling him upward like he weighed nothing. His face was twisted into something I'd never seen before—pure, unfiltered rage.
"You filthy coward," Alexander spat. "You touch her—threaten her—and think no one will answer for it?"
Darius tried to struggle, but Alexander slammed him into the wall with bone-jarring force.
"You're no man," Alexander growled, so low and dangerous it barely sounded human. "You're a disgrace. You ever lay a hand on her again, and I'll make sure you leave this castle in pieces."
Darius was silent now, choking slightly under the pressure of Alexander's grip. For once, he had no smirk, no arrogance, no words.
Alexander leaned in closer, his voice a growl. "She speaks because she has the mind and fire to lead. You? You cower behind your father's name and think brute force makes you worthy. You're nothing."
Then he shoved him—hard. Darius stumbled, hit the ground, and didn't rise. He scrambled away on his hands, like the spineless creature he truly was, casting one final glare before disappearing into the shadows of the corridor.
Alexander turned to me, his chest still heaving, the fury in his expression barely calmed. But the moment our eyes met, something shifted. His anger melted into something softer, his brow furrowed with worry.
I could barely breathe.
"Ria," he said, quietly now, urgently. "Are you hurt?"
I nodded faintly, the adrenaline beginning to crash through me, my limbs trembling. "I—I'm fine. I'm okay." But the words shook with me.
His eyes fell to my throat. I knew the marks were already forming—red, raw. His jaw clenched. "Gods," he whispered. "I should've followed you sooner."
I shook my head, but the tears came anyway—hot and furious and silent. "He... he said I don't belong. That no one will ever accept a woman like me. That I'm nothing."
Alexander stepped forward without hesitation, his hands trembling slightly as he reached out, then stopped—waiting for permission. I nodded.
He gently cupped my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears. His voice was soft, but thick with emotion. "He's wrong. You are brave, and brilliant, and stronger than any of them could ever be. And no one gets to take that from you. No one."
I closed my eyes, letting his hands steady me. I hadn't realized how cold I was until now.
"I should take you to the healer," he murmured. "Just to be sure."
"No," I whispered. "Not yet. Just... stay with me. Please."
And he did.
Right there in the dark, still hallway, where danger had so nearly taken everything from me—he stayed.
-
Alexander didn't say anything else.
He just looked at me for a moment, as if trying to assess whether I'd break if he touched me again. And then, wordlessly, he bent slightly and slipped one arm beneath my knees, the other around my back. I didn't protest—I couldn't. I let myself fall into him, my head resting gently against his shoulder as he lifted me from the stone floor as if I weighed nothing.
The world outside the corridor faded. All I could hear was the steady rhythm of his heart, strong and grounded against the chaos still unraveling inside me. His jaw brushed lightly against my temple as he carried me, his breath slow but uneven. I felt the tension still lingering in his body, the storm that hadn't fully passed.
We reached my chamber, and he pushed the door open with his foot, stepping inside the familiar warmth of the room. The golden light of the setting sun was spilling across the floor in long, honeyed streaks, casting everything in a soft, glowing hue.
He carried me to the bed and lowered me gently onto it, his arms steady and sure as he helped me settle against the pillows.
"You're safe now," he whispered.
I watched him as he knelt beside me, his gaze scanning my face for signs of pain. But his touch—gods, his touch—was so careful. He reached up and brushed a strand of hair away from my cheek, his fingers lingering for a moment longer than necessary.
Then, slowly, he sat beside me on the edge of the bed. His hand reached again, this time to smooth back my hair entirely. The tips of his fingers combed softly through it, over and over, with a rhythm so calming I almost forgot the fire in my throat.
Outside, the last rays of sunlight filtered through the lace of the curtains, casting a dappled glow across his face. His long brown curls had fallen loose from the tie at the nape of his neck, and a few strands curled near his jaw. His hazel eyes, so fierce before, now looked at me with something quieter. Something tender.
"You didn't deserve any of that," he said softly, almost to himself. "You didn't deserve to be made to feel small."
My lips trembled. "But I did feel small."
He shook his head, voice low. "That doesn't make it true. The way you stood in that chamber—how you spoke, even when they doubted you... I've never seen anything braver."
I looked at him then, really looked, and something deep in my chest shifted. He wasn't just a knight. Not to me. He never had been. The man sitting at my bedside, his hands in my hair, his eyes filled with fire and sorrow and softness—he was something more.
"I was afraid," I whispered. "Not just because of what he did... but because for a moment, I thought maybe he was right. Maybe I really don't belong in those meetings. Maybe I don't belong anywhere."
Alexander leaned forward, resting his forehead lightly against mine. His voice was quiet, but unwavering.
"You belong exactly where you are, Ria. And if anyone tries to tell you otherwise... they'll have to go through me."
My breath caught.
The words, the closeness, the warmth of his presence—it all wrapped around me like a balm against the darkness. And for the first time since the attack, I let myself close my eyes. Just for a moment. Just to breathe.
Alexander's fingers lingered in my hair for a moment longer before he slowly drew his hand back. I felt it—his hesitation, the part of him that didn't want to leave. But then he stood.
"I'll be right back," he said softly. His voice was calm, but I caught the edge in it—the tension still simmering under his words. "I need to speak with someone. Make sure... this is dealt with."
I nodded, unable to fully speak, but the look I gave him said enough. He gave me one final glance, his eyes searching mine like he needed to know I would be okay in his absence. Then he turned and quietly left the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click.
Silence fell again.
And with it, the thoughts came rushing in.
I stared at the doorway, my body still curled on the bed where he'd left me. My throat ached—not just from the bruises, but from the weight of everything. Darius's words replayed over and over like poison on repeat. You don't belong. You're a spoiled little girl playing with fire.
But I did belong. I knew that. I had earned it, hadn't I?
And yet... part of me still trembled. Not from fear—but from the closeness of it all. How quickly power could be abused. How even here, in my own home, I hadn't been safe.
A flash of Darius's eyes, the venom in his voice, the hand reaching lower—
I shuddered.
But then I thought of Alexander. The fury in his eyes. The way he'd held me like I was something precious. Like I mattered.
I pressed my hand to my chest. I wanted him back. Just for a little while longer.
A minute passed. Then two.
Then—
SLAM.
The door burst open so violently I jumped.
My father stood in the frame, his cloak still half-clasped, his eyes ablaze. I had never seen him like this—Kaerin, the strong, composed king—completely unhinged with rage.
"WHERE IS HE?" he thundered, voice echoing off the stone walls like a roar. "WHERE IS THAT LITTLE WOLF-BASTARD?!"
"Father—" I started, sitting up straighter, startled by the fire in his voice.
"I LET THEM INTO MY HOME," he bellowed, striding into the room with the force of a storm, "AND THEY ATTEMPT TO ASSAULT MY DAUGHTER?!"
His voice cracked on the last word.
I had never seen him look so murderous. So utterly undone.
He crossed to me in three long strides, kneeling by the bed, his hands hovering like he wanted to touch me but didn't dare. His eyes raked over the bruises beginning to form on my throat, and he went still.
The silence that fell this time was heavier than any rage. When he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse. "Ria... did he..."
I shook my head quickly. "He didn't—Alexander stopped him before he could do anything more. He saved me."
My father's fists clenched at his sides. "I will kill him," he whispered. "I will have him dragged before every house and shamed. I will make sure the House of Wolves knows exactly what their son did—and if they try to protect him, the alliance is over."
I looked into his eyes and saw something more than fury. I saw pain. Deep and real and helpless pain.
"I'm sorry," he said, his voice cracking. "I should've—damn it, I should've never let him stay under this roof."
I reached forward, touching his arm gently. "You didn't know. None of us did."
"I'm your father, Ria," he rasped. "It is my job to protect you. And I failed."
"No," I said firmly, my voice stronger than I expected. "You didn't. You taught me to be brave. You gave me a voice. And tonight... I used it."
He looked at me for a long time, eyes glassy now, the fury still burning but tempered by something deeper. Something older.
"I will handle this," he said, rising slowly to his feet, drawing himself back into the king he was. "But no one will ever touch you like that again. I swear it."
And as he turned to storm out, cloak snapping behind him, I realized—
This kingdom may still be broken.
But I was not alone in trying to fix it.
-
𝙺𝚊𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗'𝚜 𝙿𝙾𝚅:
My fists hadn't unclenched since I left her room.
I could still feel the shape of her shoulders in my arms, the tremble in her breath, the bruises darkening like curses on her skin. My daughter—my Ria. She'd tried to be strong for me. Gods, she'd even comforted me. But I saw it in her eyes. The pain. The shame she didn't deserve.
And the rage in me... it was like wildfire, pressed tight behind my ribs. I wasn't sure if I could contain it. I wasn't sure I should.
The walk to the guest wing blurred beneath my feet, stone and torchlight passing in a haze of red fury. The guards at the Wolves' chamber doors stiffened at my approach.
"Open it," I snapped.
No titles. No questions. Just heat and fury in my voice.
They obeyed without a word.
The door creaked open, and there they were—the Wolves. Lounging in comfort beneath my roof. King Rorik stood near the hearth, flanked by his lords and trusted men. Their laughter died the moment I stepped into the room.
Rorik's face shifted from confusion to concern. "King Kaerin—what is—"
"Your son," I growled, and the weight of those words was enough to silence the room. "Darius. He attacked my daughter."
They stared.
"He put his hands on her throat," I said, voice rising with each word, "and tried to force himself on her. Had it not been for one of my knights, he might have gone further. He did this under my roof. In my halls."
Gasps. The rustling of fabric and disbelief. I saw it spread like ripples across their faces. A few of the younger wolves looked away, shame touching their eyes. But some of them? They looked skeptical. Skeptical.
I stepped further into the room, letting the fury show in every movement. "I LET YOU INTO MY HOME," I roared, "AND YOUR HEIR TRIES TO ASSAULT MY BLOOD?"
Rorik's face had paled, mouth pressed into a tight line. "King Kaerin... are you certain of this?"
The question nearly broke me.
I stopped dead in front of him, staring him down. "You think I would storm into your rooms with a false accusation? My daughter has bruises on her neck. She told me everything. And my knight—Alexander—pulled the bastard off her before he could do worse."
Silence again. Tighter this time.
Rorik said nothing for a long, heavy moment. Then he turned slowly to the rest of his court.
"Leave us," he ordered, voice steel.
They filed out one by one, until only the two of us remained.
He looked back at me. I could see the fury building in him too now, but it wasn't at me.
"Where is Darius?" he asked, voice low and dangerous.
"In the lower wing," I said. "He's under guard. And lucky that's all I've done."
Rorik paced once, his shoulders tense. "He has always been proud. Arrogant. But this... this is beyond anything I ever imagined he was capable of." He looked at me, eyes dark. "I give you my word, Kaerin. He will face punishment. Severe. Public. I will strip his name from my court and remove his claim to succession. He will not return home with us."
I stared at him, measuring the truth in his voice. I didn't hear hesitation. I didn't hear a father trying to protect his son.
Only shame. And resolve.
"I will hold you to that," I said, my voice lower now but no less heavy. "Because if you don't punish him—I will."
Rorik nodded once. "You have my word. And... my deepest apologies. To you. To your daughter. To the house of Ravens. This will not go unanswered."
We stood there in silence for a moment longer, the smoke of betrayal still thick between us.
"The alliance?" he asked carefully.
I looked away for a beat, chest tight. This alliance had been Ria's dream. Her hope for peace. And I would not let the sins of a disgraced boy undo everything she had bled for.
"The alliance stands," I said at last. "But if another hand is raised against her—anywhere—the alliance dies with it."
Rorik bowed his head. "Understood."
I turned toward the door, the air in the room finally shifting just enough to breathe again. But before I stepped through, I looked over my shoulder.
"Pray your next son knows how to treat a queen," I said.
And I left him there, in the silence of his shame.
I hadn't even let the dust settle before I left the Wolves' chamber behind me.
There was still fire in my lungs, but it burned different now. Not with rage. With purpose.
I needed to find him—Alexander.
The knight who had saved my daughter without hesitation. Who had acted before guards could respond, before anyone else even knew what was happening. The one who carried her into her chambers with more care than some noble sons have for their own sisters.
He'd always been loyal. Steady. Quiet, but perceptive. I'd seen it in his training. In the way he listened before speaking. In how his eyes always searched a room before he relaxed.
But tonight... tonight he proved something else.
He would've killed for her.
And maybe—just maybe—that was exactly the kind of protector she needed.
I strode down the side corridor, toward the eastern wing of the castle. If I knew Alexander, he wouldn't be resting. Not yet. He'd be pacing the armory, replaying every second of the moment, wondering if he could've done more. That's the kind of man he was.
And I was right.
I found him standing at the far end of the training hall, alone. His cloak was half-unfastened, his hair—usually pulled back—had started to fall loose in curls from the man-bun he always wore. There was blood on his knuckles. Darius's blood, I didn't doubt.
He turned when he heard me.
"Your Majesty," he said at once, bowing his head.
"Alexander," I replied, my voice firm but low. "Look at me."
He straightened slowly. The usual steel in his posture was still there, but I saw the restraint in his eyes. The unspoken question: Did I go too far?
"You saved my daughter," I said plainly. "You stopped something... monstrous."
He didn't speak, but his jaw tightened.
I stepped closer, letting my voice soften just slightly. "I know what you did. And more than that—I know why you did it. You didn't hesitate. You didn't wait for permission. You acted."
I paused, watching the flicker in his hazel eyes. "And I believe Ria was safe tonight because you were near."
Alexander shifted slightly, uncertain. "It was my duty, sire. I only did what anyone would've done."
"No," I said. "Not anyone. Most would've frozen. Delayed. Questioned. But you didn't. You put yourself between her and danger."
I let a beat pass.
"And because of that, I'm naming you her personal knight."
His breath hitched.
"You'll remain at her side," I continued, "in public, in council, in travel. Wherever she walks, you walk. Her life is yours to protect. Her wellbeing, your responsibility. Do you accept this charge?"
Alexander stared at me, stunned for the first time since I'd known him. Then he sank to one knee and bowed his head.
"With everything I am," he said quietly. "I swear it."
I looked down at him—this knight who had risked his life not for glory or honor, but because he cared.
And for the first time since I saw those bruises on Ria's neck, I felt something like relief settle in my chest.
"She's strong," I said, almost more to myself than him. "But even the strong need someone they can trust."
Alexander met my eyes.
"She has me," he said simply.
I nodded once, then turned toward the door.
And for the first time that night, I allowed myself a breath.
-
𝙰𝚕𝚎𝚡𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛'𝚜 𝙿𝙾𝚅:
The moment the king's footsteps faded down the hall, the silence of the training hall wrapped around me again. But it wasn't quiet, not really. My thoughts were far too loud for that.
I stood there unmoving, still kneeling for a moment longer, heart pounding—not from fear, but from the weight of everything that had just happened.
Her personal knight.
The words echoed through me like a vow carved into stone.
Ria.
Even her name stirred something in my chest I didn't have a name for.
I straightened slowly, rubbing my knuckles absently. The skin was scraped raw, blood dried along the joints. I hadn't even felt it when I hit him. I would've done worse if I'd been a second later. The thought still burned in me, sharp and dangerous.
But it wasn't Darius's face I saw when I closed my eyes—it was hers.
Ria, lying on her bed, the golden light of the setting sun bleeding over her skin. Her hair spilled like wildfire against the pillows. Her throat—bruised and tender—made my chest ache with helpless rage. But the way she looked up at me through it all, strong, vulnerable, and still trying to breathe, gods... it undid me.
And earlier... before everything fell apart... when we were sparring—gods.
I remembered the way her smile had tugged at the corner of her mouth when she landed a hit, how her cheeks flushed pink from the effort, from the closeness. Her dark hair sticking slightly to her temples. Her eyes—bright, clever, always watching mine like she was trying to read me even when I didn't speak.
And the way she laughed.
I had no business remembering it now, but it haunted me.
I leaned back against one of the wooden posts, tilting my head toward the high stone ceiling, trying to will my thoughts into something less... damning.
But it didn't work.
Her voice lingered. Her scent, too—wildflowers and something soft I couldn't name. My chest tightened.
"Gods," I muttered aloud, running a hand down my face. "What am I supposed to do now?"
Being assigned to her side was an honor, yes. A duty I would never take lightly. But I wasn't stupid. I knew what it meant. Every step she took, I would be there. Every meeting. Every morning ride. Every time she laughed... or cried.
Always watching. Always near. Always wanting.
My hands curled into fists again.
"What am I going to do," I breathed, quieter this time, "being near her every day—when I can't even stop thinking of her now?"
There was no room for this. No space for want. She was a princess. I was a knight.
But damn me, every time I looked at her, something in me shifted.
And now?
Now I was bound to her.
Not just by oath. Not just by title.
By something far more dangerous.
Desire. Devotion.
I stayed leaning against the wooden post for a while, letting the weight of everything sink into my bones.
The king's words. Her bruises. The way her fingers had curled around my arm when I carried her to her bed—trusting me, even in her pain.
And the way I had looked at her.
Gods help me, the way I still looked at her in my mind now.
Her voice echoing in the back of my head, soft and uncertain. Her lips parted, eyes wide, when I brushed her hair back from her face. I shouldn't have touched her that way. Not even gently. Not even to comfort her.
Not when my hands still burned from it.
I exhaled hard and ran both palms down my face, trying to shake it all loose.
Get your head straight, Alexander.
She's a princess.
You're a knight.
You don't get to want things like this.
Even now, even after saving her, I was still just a man in armor sworn to the crown—not a noble. Not a suitor. And definitely not someone meant to fall for her fire.
What I felt wasn't just dangerous. It was foolish.
Romantic fantasy and steel honor had never mixed well. I'd seen what happened to men who let their hearts wander where their title could never follow. It ended in scandal, disgrace—or worse.
If you let this become more... you'll lose everything.
And yet...
I closed my eyes, jaw clenched tight.
Even with those thoughts in my head, I couldn't forget the way she looked up at me when I whispered that she was safe.
Like I was the only thing in the world that could protect her.
And now, I was. I'd been given to her.
Not as a man. Not as a lover.
As a shield.
A sword.
Nothing more.
I pushed off the post, forcing my spine straight again. I had to bury it. The thoughts, the feelings, the heat in my chest whenever she smiled at me—it all had to go deep, somewhere unreachable.
Because no matter how much I wanted her...
She was a princess.
And I was just the knight who couldn't stop looking at her like she'd hung the moon.
-
-
𝚁𝚒𝚊'𝚜 𝙿𝙾𝚅:
The morning light filtered softly through the heavy curtains, casting a golden glow across the room. I stirred slowly, the events of the previous night still lingering in the back of my mind. The memory of the council meeting, the uneasy tension, the confrontation with Darius—it all felt like a whirlwind I hadn't yet caught up with.
But then my mind shifted to the image of Alexander, his hands on my neck, his strength and his calmness when he pulled Darius away. I remembered how he had held me, not as a knight guarding a princess, but as someone who genuinely cared about keeping me safe.
I let out a breath, sitting up on the edge of the bed. The cool air of the morning felt good against my skin, grounding me. It wasn't until I noticed the soft knock on the door that I pulled my thoughts back from the whirlwind.
"Your Highness?" A soft voice—Talia's—called from the other side of the door. "May I come in?"
I nodded without speaking, feeling the ache in my body from the emotional weight of last night. Talia stepped in, her eyes catching mine immediately, full of concern. She moved to the side of my bed, setting a tray with tea and breakfast at the small table nearby, but her gaze never left me. She seemed to know I wasn't quite myself yet.
"Are you alright, my lady?" she asked gently, sitting beside me.
I nodded, but the weight of her question made something in my chest twist. I wasn't alright. I hadn't been for a long time, but lately, it felt worse.
"Ria," she began carefully, after a long pause. "There's something I need to tell you."
I tilted my head, watching her face for any sign of what was to come. She looked hesitant, like she wasn't sure how to approach it. That only made my curiosity grow stronger.
"What is it, Talia?"
She hesitated before speaking. "It's about the king's decision." She glanced up at me, as if gauging how I would react. "Your father... he's made a decision to assign someone to guard you."
I blinked, confusion flashing across my face. "What do you mean? Guard me? I already have guards." I gave her a puzzled look. "What's this about?"
Her gaze softened, but I could see the seriousness in her expression now.
"Your father... he has appointed Sir Alexander as your personal knight. He will be at your side at all times, Ria."
A sudden stillness filled the room, and I felt a sharp twinge in my chest. Alexander? My personal knight? The words felt surreal, but when I looked at Talia's face, I could see the weight of her words settling in, her own uncertainty about the decision.
"Alexander?" I repeated, almost to myself. His name rolled off my tongue like something unfamiliar, though I couldn't deny the way my heart seemed to skip at the thought of him being near me at all times. The knight who had always been at a distance—respectful, careful, silent—now would be there, by my side, day in and day out.
"Are you sure about this?" I asked quietly, even though I knew the answer. My father's orders were final. There was no question about that.
Talia hesitated, looking me over, sensing the inner turmoil swirling in my chest. "It's not just a formality, Ria. He's been assigned to you—personally. The king trusts him to keep you safe. There's no one else he would choose for this role."
I swallowed thickly, feeling the weight of her words settle on my shoulders like a mantle I didn't know how to carry.
I couldn't help it—I thought of Alexander then. The way his eyes met mine after he'd pulled Darius away. The intensity in his gaze, the way he'd held me so carefully, almost protectively, when he'd carried me to my chambers.
My chest tightened. I didn't know if I should feel comforted or trapped by this new development.
"Does... does he want this?" I asked quietly, unsure if I even wanted to know the answer. I hadn't heard his thoughts on the matter, only seen his actions. He hadn't asked for this position. I didn't even know if he wanted to be near me—me—that often.
Talia gave me a reassuring smile. "I don't think he had much of a choice. He's a knight, after all. Duty is what matters most to him."
I let out a shaky breath, trying to keep my emotions in check. I didn't know what to feel. Relief, perhaps, but also a flutter of uncertainty deep in my chest. Alexander was now tied to me, as if by some invisible chain. It wasn't just about the danger he had protected me from last night. It was about the hours ahead—the moments ahead. He would be there, always watching, always present.
And that brought its own kind of discomfort.
I stared at my hands, trying to steady my thoughts, before lifting my eyes to meet Talia's again. She was watching me, a slight smile on her lips, but there was a knowing in her eyes. She could tell I wasn't entirely sure how I felt about this.
"I'm sure you'll get used to it," she said softly. "And he'll protect you, Ria. You don't need to worry."
I nodded slowly, though something inside me still twisted. I wanted to believe her. I wanted to feel that same sense of safety. But part of me, the part that had known what it was like to fight for every inch of freedom, feared this closeness. It was like stepping into something new—something I hadn't been prepared for.
But as I sat there in the quiet of the morning, the weight of the day ahead pressing against me, I couldn't deny the truth of it.
Alexander would be by my side now. Constantly.
And somehow, I wasn't sure if I was ready for it.
-
As the moments passed, I found myself staring out of the window, my mind still spinning with Talia's words. Alexander—my personal knight. The weight of it felt surreal, and yet, there was an undeniable pull deep inside me, something I couldn't quite ignore. The thought of him being at my side always—his presence so constant, so undeniable—sent a flutter of something unfamiliar through my stomach.
Gods, what was happening to me?
I couldn't stop thinking about last night. I couldn't stop thinking about him. The way he had been so fierce in his protection of me, his hands pulling Darius off me with such force, such control. His eyes, burning with fury, and then the calmness when he finally turned toward me, his voice soft as he assured me that I was safe.
There was something about him—something that made my heart race even now, as I sat there in the quiet room, unable to push his image from my mind.
He was so... handsome. The way his brown curls had fallen loosely around his face last night, before he tied them back in that man-bun of his—so effortlessly rugged. His hazel eyes, so intense and focused, seemed to look right through me. It wasn't just his physicality, though. It was the way he carried himself—always so calm, yet beneath that calm was a fire, a deep-seated strength that only revealed itself when needed. I'd seen it last night, when he faced Darius down without even a second thought.
Gods, I felt safe with him. I felt like nothing could harm me.
But that realization sent a shiver through me.
If Alexander was at my side every moment, if I needed him—what would happen? What would this—this dynamic—do to both of us?
There was so much weight to the idea of him always being near. I knew it wasn't just about protection. There was something deeper stirring between us, a connection I couldn't ignore, no matter how hard I tried. The way he looked at me... it wasn't just the look of a knight who saw his duty. No, it felt different. It felt like... something else. Like I wasn't just a princess to him.
And I hated myself for thinking it, but there was a part of me that wanted to believe it.
The more I thought about it, the more I realized that this situation—this new role, this constant proximity—wasn't just about protecting me anymore. It was about feeling.
And I couldn't decide if I was ready for the storm that would come with that.
It was the first time in a long time that I felt something close to fear. Fear not for my safety, but fear of what would happen if I grew too close to Alexander. Fear that I might fall for him, and that falling might ruin everything.
I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts.
No. This couldn't happen. I couldn't let myself feel like that. Not with him. Not with anyone.
He was a knight, sworn to the crown. He couldn't be mine, not in that way. Not when his duty was to protect me, to be at my side as a constant reminder of my status. How could he ever look at me the way I wanted him to?
I couldn't afford to let myself hope for something that was never going to happen.
But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that the flutter in my stomach—the flutter I could feel even now as I thought of his gaze on me, the way he made me feel safe and wanted—was a sign of something much stronger than simple admiration.
And that realization made my chest tighten.
What if I couldn't stop it?
The thought of him being there every day, of his touch, his presence, even if it was just as my knight, made it hard to breathe. I didn't know if I was strong enough to keep the feelings that were bubbling up inside me locked away. I didn't know how I could pretend they didn't exist.
But the truth was, I didn't know how long I could keep pretending that the way he made me feel wasn't slowly shifting everything within me.
I sighed, resting my head against the cold glass of the window. The evening sun had dipped low in the sky, casting a warm glow across the room, and it felt like a reflection of the war in my heart.
I had never felt more torn.
-
The weight of the thoughts swirling in my mind followed me throughout the day, like an invisible cloak I couldn't shake. No matter how much I tried to focus on the tasks ahead—preparing for the next council meeting, making sure the alliance between the wolves and ravens was solidified—I couldn't escape the unease lodged deep within me.
And then, as the evening settled in and I retreated to my chambers, there was a knock at the door.
I opened it to find my father standing there, a stern expression on his face. His brow was furrowed, but his eyes, as always, were filled with purpose. It wasn't unusual for him to visit me in the evenings, but tonight, there was something different in his presence, something more pressing.
"Ria, we need to talk," he said, his voice low but commanding.
My stomach dropped slightly. There was an urgency in his tone that immediately set my nerves on edge.
I stepped aside, letting him into the room. The fire crackled in the hearth, casting dancing shadows across the walls. I gestured for him to sit, but he shook his head, pacing slowly as he often did when something weighed heavily on him.
"Is everything alright, Father?" I asked, trying to mask the concern that had crept into my voice.
He stopped, glancing at me with a look that made my chest tighten.
"You've made your position clear with the council, and the alliance with the wolves is almost set, but—" He sighed, clearly struggling with how to phrase the next part. "There are forces at work here that I cannot control. People who want to see this peace fail."
I nodded, though I had already anticipated as much. The dragons and serpents—some of their leaders wouldn't settle so easily. Their pride and resentment ran deep, and I knew they wouldn't simply bend to the idea of unity between the four kingdoms.
"I know, Father," I said quietly. "But we must continue to move forward. The peace between the wolves and ravens is a start. It's progress. We can't let fear dictate our future."
He looked at me, a faint smile pulling at the corners of his lips. For a moment, his stern expression softened, and I saw the father I knew—one who had always believed in me, despite everything.
"Ria, you're right. But your path will not be easy. I've seen the way they look at you—at your ideas. They're not used to a princess who thinks so... boldly. It's not just your mind they fear; it's your spirit. And that," he said, his voice dropping, "is something that could either make or break you."
I swallowed, the weight of his words settling heavily on my shoulders.
"I will not back down," I said firmly, though the truth was, the more I thought about my mother's harsh words earlier, the more I wondered if perhaps I was destined to fail.
He nodded, his eyes narrowing with determination. "I know. And that's what makes you dangerous."
Before I could respond, there was another knock at the door. I barely had time to turn around before it swung open, and Alexander stepped into the room.
He looked at me briefly, then turned to my father with a respectful bow.
"Your Majesty," he greeted him, his voice calm, but I noticed the tension in his posture—the way his jaw clenched, his hands tightly fisted at his sides.
"Alexander," my father said, his tone unexpectedly softer, though the concern remained. "I need to speak with you about a few matters. You're not just a knight here anymore, you're part of the family now. I trust you'll carry that responsibility with the honor it requires."
My heart skipped a beat as my father's words washed over me. Part of the family. Alexander, my knight, was now more deeply tied to us than ever before. And with that, the implications of what we were both stepping into grew even more daunting.
I watched as he nodded and stepped forward, meeting my father's gaze with quiet determination.
"I will, Your Majesty," he said, his voice steady.
There was a beat of silence, and then, without a word, my father turned and left the room.
I was left standing there, the words still hanging in the air.
Alexander remained, though he hesitated before speaking.
"Princess," he began, his eyes softening just a little, "is there anything else you need from me tonight?"
His gaze held mine for a moment longer than I expected, and I felt a warmth crawl up my neck. The closeness between us, even in the simplest of moments, was beginning to feel more overwhelming.
I had to remind myself to focus.
"Just... keep an eye on things, Alexander. I have a feeling the challenges we face are only just beginning."
His eyes narrowed slightly, and he nodded, a flash of something dangerous—something protective—flashing in them.
"Always, Princess. Always."
As Alexander turned and walked toward the door, his posture as solid and assured as always, my heart gave an unexpected flutter. His presence, his quiet strength, seemed to fill the room even after he left. He was a man of few words, but somehow, he always made an impact. I couldn't help but watch as he disappeared through the door, the faint sound of his footsteps echoing in the hall outside.
I stood there for a moment, the warmth from his gaze still lingering. My chest tightened, a mixture of emotions flooding through me—admiration, curiosity, and... something deeper that I wasn't ready to acknowledge just yet.
With a sigh, I flopped back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling, my thoughts spinning in every direction. Gods, what was happening to me? It was just a knight, after all. A man I had known for such a short time. Yet here I was, thinking of him every moment of the day.
In an attempt to push the growing tension in my chest aside, I chuckled softly to myself, rolling my eyes. Oh gods, I thought, does that mean I need to make sure I'm a bit dolled up at least?
I couldn't help but imagine myself, the princess with her perfectly arranged hair, polished gown, and the composed exterior—something I had learned long ago to be the image expected of me. But now, as I lay there, I wondered if it was enough. Was I really the princess they wanted me to be, or was I something... different? Something that, for the first time in my life, was starting to feel a little out of place in this courtly world.
The absurdity of it all was overwhelming, but it didn't stop the constant stream of thoughts about Alexander. How he defended me, how he was willing to risk everything for my safety... There was a tenderness in the way he spoke to me—his hands, strong and firm, but gentle at the same time. His intense gaze, those hazel eyes that had watched me so carefully, as if weighing every word I said.
The entire situation felt dizzying, and I could hardly keep up with the whirlwind of emotions crashing over me. The princess and the knight—a tale as old as time, but not one that could come to pass, not in the world we lived in.
Yet I couldn't deny the pull. I couldn't dismiss the strange connection we shared, even if it was only beginning.
Focus, Ria, I reminded myself, sitting up straighter on the bed. There were far more pressing matters at hand, like the future of the kingdom, the alliance, and the political games that lay ahead. And yet, even as I thought about these things, Alexander's face seemed to be all I could think about.
I buried my face in my hands, groaning quietly. I really am losing my mind, I thought, the realization hitting me with the weight of a thousand thoughts.