The rain hammered relentlessly against the roof, a steady, oppressive rhythm that rattled the frail wooden walls and swept a cold draft into the small space. Althea hugged her cloak tightly around herself, shivering as she watched the rain turn the forest outside into an endless wall of water.
Catria was already moving about the tiny shelter, inspecting the walls with that usual, maddening efficiency, making a point of ignoring the way Althea huddled by the door.
"If you're hoping this will pass quickly," Catria remarked, glancing over her shoulder, "it won't. We're in for the night."
Althea arched a brow, defiance sparking through her fatigue. "Oh, is that so? I suppose you're thrilled. One more night to make me miserable."
Catria's lips curved into a faint, amused smile. "I don't need to make you miserable, princess. You do that well enough on your own."
Althea huffed, her chin lifting as she shot Catria a glare. "Just say it outright. You like having me trapped here."
Catria ignored her jab, shrugging off her rain-soaked cloak and draping it over a wooden beam. "What I like is being dry." She began undoing her armor, piece by piece, laying it aside in organized rows. The soft clinking of metal echoed through the silence, and Althea's eyes flicked between the knight's movements and the rain battering the doorway.
The silence was unsettling.
She tried again, her voice sharper, more challenging. "Are you really so eager for one more night of playing my jailer?"
"Eager isn't the word I'd use," Catria said, unbothered, her fingers moving with smooth precision over her armor clasps. "But I have no intention of letting you sleep in wet clothes."
Althea froze, the implication of her words settling over her like the chill in the air. "W-what are you saying?"
Catria didn't respond immediately. Instead, she finished unfastening the last piece of her armor, pulling her tunic free from her rain-soaked shirt. When she finally turned, she met Althea's gaze with a steady look. "We're soaked through, and if we stay this way, we'll be even worse off by morning. So, princess, I suggest we strip down." Her expression remained cool, but Althea swore she caught a glint of amusement flickering in her eyes.
The bold defiance drained from Althea's face, replaced by an uncharacteristic hesitation. "That's… entirely unnecessary."
"Are you sure?" Catria stepped closer, arms crossed. She didn't hide her scrutiny, letting her gaze flick briefly over Althea's sodden cloak and dress. "You're freezing. I'd think someone as strong willed as you would act decisively."
Althea's cheeks flushed, her bravado faltering. "I—" She looked away, fidgeting with the edge of her cloak. "I'll manage," she murmured, trying to regain her footing, but the cold clung to her bones, and she couldn't help the slight tremble in her hands.
Catria sighed, her tone almost pitying. "You're shivering, Althea. Your pride won't keep you warm." She moved back to the cloak hanging by the fire and began wringing the excess water from its edge, her calmness only fueling Althea's discomfort.
With a begrudging huff, Althea turned her back, her fingers working clumsily at the laces of her dress. Each pull of fabric felt like surrender, her defiance waning under the reality of the cold. She peeled the dress off, letting it fall over the beam beside Catria's cloak. Left only in her wet linen shift, she hugged her arms around herself, her face turned purposefully away from the knight's piercing gaze.
After a moment, she dared a glance over her shoulder, catching sight of Catria, who was now down to her own undershirt and trousers, wringing the last drops of water from her hair with practiced ease.
"Embarrassed?" Catria's voice was a quiet tease, cutting through the silence with unnerving precision. "You surprise me, princess. I'd have thought nothing could shake you."
Althea clenched her jaw, trying to ignore the way her pulse quickened at the remark. "It's just… colder than I expected," she replied, voice wavering only slightly.
"Really?" Catria's smile softened, a glint of amusement in her eyes. "Modesty, princess? After the countless times you've pushed my patience?" She shook her head, the humor unmistakable in her tone. "Who would have thought?"
Althea shot her a sharp look, defiance mingling with the pink flush in her cheeks. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean.'" she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest.
Catria only chuckled, reaching to tug her belt free of her armor pieces, each movement efficient, practiced. She set her sword down last as she glanced over her shoulder, her gaze pointed, challenging. "It's a matter of practicality," she said, the tease still evident in her voice. "If you're going to survive out here, you'll have to learn a little pragmatism."
Catria eased herself down onto the cold stone floor, stretching out as the storm thundered around them. She propped herself on one elbow, watching Althea with a quiet, unreadable expression. The princess lingered at the edge of their cramped shelter, clearly unwilling to settle down herself.
After a beat, Catria's voice softened. "You're going to freeze, standing over there."
Althea huffed, her pride prickling. "I'm fine."
But Catria merely extended her arm, an invitation without words, her expression expectant. Althea hesitated, her gaze flicking between Catria's outstretched arm and the storm raging outside.
"Come here," she murmured into the night, her tone calm and steady, leaving little room for protest. After a moment, she moved closer, kneeling beside her as if testing the boundaries. With a quiet sigh, Catria reached up and looped her arm around Althea's shoulders, pulling her close and drawing her down to lie beside her.
"Purely for warmth," Catria murmured, a hint of a smile in her voice. She adjusted her hold, slipping her arm securely around Althea's waist, holding her with a comforting steadiness.
The intimacy of it made Althea's heart stutter, the heat of Catria's presence soaking through her, erasing the night's chill. She could feel the slow, steady rhythm of the knight's breathing, the quiet strength of her body against her own.
Althea lay stiffly at first, resisting the impulse to lean in, to settle fully into Catria's embrace. But the night's chill clung to her, and the warmth radiating from the knight's skin was like an anchor, steady and undeniable.
It shouldn't feel like this, she thought, pulse thrumming against the quiet. She was the one who taunted Catria, who tested the knight's patience at every turn—never the one to let her guard down. And yet here she was, tangled in Catria's protective grasp, feeling a strange comfort in the strength that held her.
It's just necessity, she told herself, closing her eyes as if that would somehow make the moment less real. She's only keeping me from freezing. That's all this is.
But even as she tried to convince herself, Althea couldn't help noticing the gentleness in Catria's hold, the way the knight's fingers rested lightly against her back. It felt… protective. Almost as if the impenetrable knight had softened, if only for a moment.
A quiet part of her wanted to stay here—to rest, just this once, in a strength she didn't have to pretend to challenge.
"Is this… really necessary?" Althea's voice was barely a whisper, her breath catching as she spoke, but she couldn't stop the question from slipping out.
Catria's fingers brushed against her back, a steady, grounding touch. "Only if you plan to survive the night without a cold," she murmured, her tone light but carrying a gentle challenge.
The world outside faded, and for a moment, it was just the two of them, cocooned in a warmth that felt strangely like safety. The tension in her body eased as she leaned into Catria's warmth, her own breaths slowing, falling in rhythm with the knight's.
Althea lay against Catria's chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of the knight's breathing, each warm breath brushing softly against her temple. It was unexpectedly comforting—so much that her earlier defiance softened, leaving her uncharacteristically still in Catria's arms. For a brief moment, Althea allowed herself to close her eyes, to sink into the quiet warmth without the constant tension of their journey, of duty, of everything unspoken between them.
But that stillness didn't last long.
A flicker of her usual boldness stirred as she opened her eyes, the heavy quiet nudging her back to herself. She was still the princess, after all—defiant, unpredictable, and not about to let Catria assume all the control. A slow smile curved her lips as a thought crept into her mind, her tone slipping back into something familiar, something challenging. She shifted slightly, looking up at Catria with a glint of mischief in her eyes.
"So," she murmured, her voice just loud enough to catch Catria's attention, "is this what you had in mind all along, knight?"
"Welcome back, princess." Catria responded, but didn't move.
"You're holding on awfully tight, knight," Althea pressed again, her voice edged with a teasing lilt. "Afraid I'll vanish into the storm?"
Catria's lips twitched, a faint hint of a smile she didn't bother hiding. "Just keeping you from freezing," she replied. "But if you're really that eager to leave, I could let you go. See how long you last."
Althea huffed, tilting her chin up defiantly. "I'd be fine," she said, though the chill of the storm outside told her otherwise. "I don't need you fussing over me."
"Is that so?" Catria's voice held a quiet challenge. She loosened her grip, her arm shifting just enough to let in a sliver of cold air. The draft brushed against Althea's shoulders, and she couldn't help the tiny shiver that ran through her.
"Fine," Althea mumbled, pressing back into the warmth, unwilling to let Catria win this round. "But only because it's freezing."
"Of course," Catria murmured, her tone amused, but her arm returned, drawing Althea close once more. "I'd hate to be responsible for the princess catching a chill."
Althea shifted again, her cheeks warm despite the cold. "You don't have to pretend you're doing this out of duty," she said, quieter now. "I can tell when you're being… kinder than usual."
Catria's silence stretched for a beat too long, her gaze fixed somewhere over Althea's shoulder. When she finally spoke, her voice was softer, more measured. "Kindness has little to do with it."
Althea lifted her gaze, searching the knight's face. "Then what does it have to do with?"
Catria's hand stilled against her back, her fingers tightening slightly as if debating her next words. "Keeping you safe, I suppose," she said at last, her tone guarded, almost reluctant. "You may not believe it, but that's always been my priority."
Althea's heart fluttered, but she covered it with a wry smile. "Always? Even when you're dragging me halfway across the kingdom against my will?"
Catria's lips quirked again, a brief, self-deprecating smile. "Especially then." She met Althea's gaze, the glint in her eyes softening. "Though I wouldn't expect you to thank me for it."
A quiet warmth settled over them, something unsaid lingering between their breaths. Althea tilted her head, her tone dipping into something almost playful, almost vulnerable. "Maybe I'm not as ungrateful as you think, Catria."
Catria's expression shifted, surprise flickering across her face before it vanished, replaced by the quiet strength she always wore like armor. "Well, that would be a first."
Althea chuckled softly, letting her head rest against Catria's shoulder, her voice softening to a murmur. "Don't let it go to your head."
The knight's arms tightened around her, a silent acknowledgment, neither of them breaking the fragile closeness that held them together in the dark.
"Get some rest," Catria said softly, her voice a steady murmur in the dark. "Morning will come soon enough."
As sleep began to pull her under, Althea felt Catria's arm tighten around her—a subtle, protective gesture, one she'd never seen in the knight before. And as her eyes drifted shut, Althea savored the memory, a fleeting warmth that lingered long after the storm had quieted.