Chapter 9
Aliya's fingers drifted over the pendant's delicate silver
chain, still trying to make sense of the gift. Prince Artemis had said it was a
"token of friendship" and had insisted it would somehow guide her. But the
necklace stirred memories she couldn't quite grasp, faint shadows that danced
just beyond her reach. The delicate stone in the center seemed to pulse with an
energy of its own, almost as if it were alive.
A gentle knock on her door interrupted her thoughts, and one
of the palace servants entered. "My lady, breakfast is ready. The king and
princes are awaiting your presence."
Aliya nodded, placing the necklace under her dress. She felt
a strange urge to keep it hidden, as though something told her that not
everyone should see it.
In the dining hall, the royal family was already gathered.
She hesitated upon seeing Arthur's dark gaze flicker to her briefly, but he
didn't speak. The meal began quietly, with the king leading a conversation on
the importance of trade alliances between their two kingdoms. He emphasized the
value of cooperation, and Aliya could see the strategic gleam in his eyes. His
vision was one of prosperity and power for both lands.
As the men continued talking, Aliya's thoughts drifted. She
felt strangely disconnected from the room, her mind lingering on the necklace,
on Arthur's warning from the night before. His eyes had burned with something
she couldn't quite place—possessiveness, perhaps, or anger. She wasn't sure
which emotion unnerved her more.
Once breakfast concluded, Aliya excused herself and headed
to the palace garden, drawn by the calming allure of the flowers and the gentle
rustling of the leaves in the morning breeze. She had always found solace
there, surrounded by the vibrant blooms and earthy scent of the soil.
But her peace was soon interrupted by a familiar presence.
Arthur approached, his expression unreadable. "Aliya," he
began, his tone cold, "I'm reminding you one last time to keep your distance
from Artemis. I won't say it again."
Aliya clenched her jaw. His words struck her as both a
command and a warning, and she felt a surge of defiance rise within her. "He
keeps approaching me" she replied, meeting his gaze. "What harm could there
possibly be in speaking with Prince Artemis?"
He stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. "Aliya do not question
me never you do that". You know your place here don't make me remind you."
She opened her mouth to question him, but before she could,
the king appeared, calling out, "Come! Let's enjoy the day with a ride together."
The tension between her and Arthur remained unspoken as they
joined the others by the stables. Each was presented with a horse, and Aliya
felt a thrill of excitement when she was offered a beautiful white mare, with a
coat like fresh snow and a gentle but lively spirit.
Arthur's eyes narrowed when he saw her mount the horse.
"Aliya," he warned, "you shouldn't ride. You don't know how."
Aliya lifted her chin, her voice firm. "I'm quite capable,
Arthur. I ride with my dad most of the time."
His jaw tightened, but he said nothing further. She sensed
that he wasn't pleased, yet she couldn't bring herself to care. There was a
strange sense of freedom that washed over her as she took the reins, feeling
the familiar rhythm of the horse beneath her.
As they set off, the wind whipped through her hair, and she
laughed, feeling a rare joy that had been absent for so long.
At one point, she glanced back and caught Arthur watching
her. His expression was softened, his eyes lingering on her with an intensity
she hadn't seen before. For just a moment, his usual stern demeanor gave way to
something else—admiration, perhaps? He even smiled, a brief, unguarded smile
that caught her off guard. But as soon as it appeared, it was gone, and he
resumed his usual stoic expression.
Lost in the moment, Aliya didn't notice a rabbit darting
across her path until it was too late. Her horse startled, rearing up on its
hind legs, and she struggled to regain control. In an instant, she was thrown
from the saddle, tumbling to the ground with a painful thud.
The impact left her breathless, and she could barely
register what happened before Arthur was at her side, his expression one of
worry and fear—an expression she hadn't known he was capable of.
"Aliya," he breathed, dropping to his knees beside her. His
hands were surprisingly gentle as he checked her for injuries, his touch
careful but filled with an intensity that left her heart racing. She caught a
flicker of vulnerability in his gaze, a crack in his otherwise unbreakable
armor.
"Are you hurt?" His voice was barely a whisper, his face so
close she could feel his breath against her cheek.
Aliya shook her head, still dazed from the fall, but touched
by the concern in his voice. She'd never imagined him to be so caring, so…
human. It was as though she were seeing a side of Arthur she had never known, a
side hidden beneath his usual dark mood and cold demeanor.
Without another word, Arthur helped her to her feet, and
when she winced from a scrape on her arm, he lifted her into his arms, carrying
her back toward the palace. She felt a warmth flood her cheeks as she lay
against his chest, her heart pounding from more than just the fall.
He took her to her room, tending to her cuts and bruises in
silence. His touch was soft, almost reverent, and she found herself unable to
look away from him. This wasn't the Arthur she knew. This was someone
else—someone who cared, even if he tried to hide it.
Once he finished dressing her wounds, Arthur stepped back,
his expression hardening once more. "When I tell you that you can't do
something, Aliya," he said quietly, "I mean it. Don't test me again. You
wouldn't want to make me angry. I'm capable of… many things."
The warning in his words was clear, but instead of fear,
Aliya felt a strange pull toward him, an urge she couldn't quite explain.
Perhaps it was the way he had looked at her, the way he had held her with such
tenderness moments before. Without thinking, she took a step closer to him,
closing the gap between them.
And then, before she could stop herself, she leaned in and
pressed her lips softly against his.
The kiss was gentle at first, hesitant, as though she were
afraid he might pull away. But when he didn't, when he responded with equal
fervor, she felt something awaken within her—a spark that had been buried under
layers of fear and uncertainty.
For a few fleeting moments, they were no longer enemies or
wary allies, no longer bound by duty or obligation. They were simply two
people, caught in a moment of undeniable connection.
But just as quickly as it had begun, Arthur broke away,
stepping back with a look of shock and something else—regret? His face
darkened, the familiar coldness returning to his gaze.
"Aliya…" he began, his voice laced with warning. "Be careful
with what you do you might regret it ."
She wanted to argue, to tell him that she did understand,
that she wasn't afraid. But before she could say anything, he turned and left
the room, leaving her alone with a heart pounding harder than it had on the
horse.
As she touched her lips, still warm from the kiss, she
realized that the boundaries between them had shifted—and there was no going
back.