The day felt like a dream realized—one that the people of Avalon would speak of for generations to come. For the first time in what seemed like ages, hope coursed through the veins of the kingdom. As the armored column made its way through the streets, escorting Princess Asake back to the palace, the citizens cheered with unrestrained joy. Flowers were tossed into the air, their petals carried by the gentle breeze, showering the convoy in vibrant colors.
Boyka rode at the head of the procession, his expression a mixture of relief and deep contemplation. The princess's safety had been secured, but the cost weighed on his mind. The battles fought, the lives lost, and the blood that had stained the streets of Avalon were not easily forgotten. What says the day? Boyka mused to himself. It is a day for celebration, a day of victory. A day future generations will sing praises of. But even as he celebrated outwardly, his thoughts roamed to the quiet ache in his chest—the love he carried for the princess.
The column advanced slowly, the rhythmic clatter of hooves against cobblestones mingling with the cheers of the crowd. Boyka glanced over at Princess Asake, who sat regally in the carriage, her beauty illuminated by the soft glow of the afternoon sun. She smiled and waved at the people, her demeanor serene despite the ordeal she had endured. Boyka couldn't help but feel pride at the sight of her—strong, graceful, and unbroken.
His thoughts, however, grew darker as he pondered the lengths he had gone to rescue her. It wasn't just duty that drove him. It was love—a quiet, burning love he had carried for as long as he could remember. He clenched his fists at the thought. Foolish emotions have no place in a soldier's heart.
"Boyka," a soft voice called, pulling him back from his thoughts.
He turned sharply to see Princess Asake leaning toward him from the carriage window, concern written across her face. "What's wrong?" she asked gently. "You've been so lost in your thoughts since we departed. Tell me, what weighs on your mind?"
Boyka hesitated. Her words held an uncanny ability to reach deep within him, drawing out the feelings he desperately tried to bury. "It's nothing, Princess," he said gruffly, turning his gaze forward.
"No, it's not 'nothing,'" Asake pressed. "I have been watching you all day. You seem distant, detached—almost as though this victory brings you no joy. Is it not a day to be grateful for?"
Boyka exhaled slowly. "It is," he admitted. "It's a day to be celebrated, Princess. The kingdom rejoices for your return. That alone should be enough."
"But it's not," Asake replied softly, her tone full of understanding. She placed a hand on his armored forearm. "I know how far you went for me. I know what you sacrificed. You think I don't see the toll it's taken on you?" She paused, her voice steady yet warm. "And perhaps you think I don't know your heart."
Boyka's shoulders stiffened. "Don't speak of things that have no place here," he said sharply, pulling his arm away. "What matters is that you're safe and the kingdom stands strong."
The princess was undeterred. "Boyka, I want you to listen to me," she said firmly. "The way you risked your life for me—it wasn't just duty, and we both know it. I felt it. I see it in your eyes every time you look at me."
Boyka's jaw clenched as he reined in his emotions. "Princess," he said quietly, "this—this is dangerous talk."
"Why?" Asake shot back, frustration flashing across her face. "Why must you deny it? I know you care for me. I can see it as clearly as the sun in the sky. And if I'm to be honest, Boyka… I care for you, too."
Silence fell between them, heavy and unspoken. The cheers of the crowd seemed distant now, a hollow noise compared to the sound of her words lingering in Boyka's mind.
"You shouldn't say such things," Boyka finally muttered, his voice low. "You know as well as I do that nothing can come of this. The emperor would never allow it. We walk different paths, Princess. You are royalty, and I am a soldier. My only place is on the battlefield, where swords and strategy dictate my purpose. I know nothing of love—nor am I worthy of it."
Princess Asake's eyes blazed with anger. "Why must you always be so pessimistic? Why do you insist on pushing me away? You act as though our lives are already written in stone."
Boyka turned to face her then, his expression softened by an unfamiliar sadness. "Because I am a realist," he replied. "Dreams and wishful thinking have no place in my world. I will keep my feelings—whatever they may be—locked away. For both our sakes."
Princess Asake looked at him for a long moment, her gaze searching his face for something—anything—that would betray his resolve. Finally, she sighed and leaned back in the carriage. "Very well, Commander," she said quietly. "But know this—you are not alone in your feelings, no matter how hard you try to deny them."
The remainder of the journey passed in silence. Neither spoke, but as they sat side by side, the princess reached out and took Boyka's hand. He did not pull away.
---
The palace gates loomed in the distance, their golden crests gleaming under the setting sun. Trumpets blared as the convoy approached, and a new wave of cheers erupted from the crowds gathered at the palace grounds. Soldiers lined the path, forming a protective barricade while the people pressed eagerly against it, hoping to catch a glimpse of the princess.
The emperor himself stood waiting at the entrance, flanked by his advisors and guards. His royal robes caught the light, the deep crimson fabric shimmering with every movement. The moment the convoy halted, Princess Asake stepped out of the carriage with Boyka close behind.
"Welcome home, Princess!" the crowd roared.
The princess gave a small wave before turning her gaze to her father. Emperor Morris stepped forward, his stern demeanor softening as he opened his arms and embraced his daughter. "My child," he said, his voice heavy with relief. "You have no idea how worried I have been. Thank the heavens you are safe."
"I'm here, Father," Asake replied softly, clinging to him. "Thanks to Commander Boyka and his men."
The emperor turned his attention to Boyka, his sharp gaze lingering on the commander for a moment. Then, his expression softened, and he gave a small nod of approval. "Commander," he said, his voice firm but sincere. "Avalon owes you a great debt. You have proven your loyalty and your strength yet again. You will be rewarded for your efforts."
Boyka bowed deeply. "It is nothing, Your Majesty. I only fulfilled my duty. The credit belongs not to me alone but to the soldiers who stood by my side—and to your unwavering support of the cause."
"Well spoken," the emperor said, his voice carrying pride. "Nevertheless, a victory such as this deserves to be celebrated. Tonight, we shall hold a banquet in honor of my daughter's return—and in honor of those who made it possible."
The emperor turned and signaled to his servants, who immediately set off to finalize the preparations. As the crowds began to disperse and the soldiers fell back into their formations, Boyka allowed himself one brief glance at Princess Asake. She smiled faintly at him, her eyes holding a message only he could understand.
For now, he thought, the war was over. But the battle within his heart had only just begun.
Lights out.