Lady Elara Valemont sat in her chambers, her fingers idly tracing the intricate patterns of her tapestry. The soft flicker of candlelight illuminated the room, casting long shadows against the walls. Her mind, however, was far from the peacefulness of her surroundings.
Her father had summoned her earlier that day, and the news he had given her had been far from reassuring. A new bodyguard—someone who was to protect her from the unseen dangers lurking within the kingdom's walls.
Elara had heard the rumors of Kaelen Aegis, the battle-hardened warrior who had never known defeat. His name was whispered in every corner of the kingdom, a symbol of strength and fear. She had never met him, but she had seen his kind—silent, imposing men who lived only for the fight. She couldn't imagine someone like that would be of much use to her, a delicate woman more accustomed to courtly politics than to swordplay.
The sound of footsteps interrupted her thoughts, and she looked up to find her maid entering, a look of concern on her face.
"Lady Elara," the maid said softly, "the warrior has arrived."
Elara rose from her chair, her heart fluttering in her chest. She had no idea what to expect from this man, but one thing was certain—her life was about to change forever.
Kaelen's boots echoed through the grand hallways of the Valemont palace, each step heavy with the weight of his new mission. He had seen many things in his life—battlefields drenched in blood, cities reduced to rubble, and men broken beyond repair. But the palace felt different. It was not a place of war, but of politics, of games Kaelen had never learned to play. Still, it was his duty to protect its most precious asset: Lady Elara Valemont.
As he walked toward her chambers, his mind raced with thoughts of the task ahead. Guarding a noblewoman was hardly the type of duty he was accustomed to. His world had been shaped by steel and death, not the fine silk and whispers of court life. He had fought for the kingdom, but he had never served it in such a personal way.
The doors to her chambers opened before him, and there she stood—Lady Elara.
She was not the delicate, sheltered princess Kaelen had imagined. Her eyes, though soft, held a depth that belied her age. A kind of wisdom, born not from age but from the weight of responsibility. Her posture was straight, regal, but not stiff. She had an aura about her—one that radiated intelligence and a quiet strength. The last thing she looked like was someone who needed a protector.
"Elara Valemont," Kaelen said, his voice as cold and stern as ever. He didn't know what else to say. What do you say to a princess when you're just a weapon in a king's hands?
She regarded him carefully, her eyes studying him, perhaps as intently as he was studying her. She did not seem intimidated by his imposing stature or the scars that marked his face. Instead, there was curiosity in her gaze, as if she were trying to understand the man behind the blade.
"I'm Lady Elara," she replied, her voice calm but firm. "You must be Kaelen Aegis, the warrior my father has entrusted with my protection."
He nodded once, his expression unreadable. "Your safety is my charge," he said, his voice carrying a tone of finality, as if the matter were already settled.
A long silence passed between them, an invisible tension hanging in the air. It was clear neither of them knew what to say next. The princess had been trained in diplomacy, in the art of courtly conversation, but this was different. She had never had to deal with a man like Kaelen before—a man who spoke in short, blunt words and exuded an aura of violence.
Finally, Elara broke the silence, her voice steady but with a touch of uncertainty. "Do you believe I need protection?"
Kaelen blinked, the question catching him off guard. In truth, he hadn't considered it. His orders were simple—guard the princess. Yet, there was something about her presence that made the task seem... unnecessary.
"You are the king's daughter," Kaelen said, his tone devoid of emotion. "That makes you a target. Whether or not you believe you need protection doesn't matter."
Elara studied him for a moment, as though weighing his words carefully. "So you'll protect me because it's your duty, not because you believe I need it."
Kaelen's jaw clenched. "I serve the kingdom. That is all."
She nodded, as if accepting the truth of his words. But there was something else in her gaze—something that lingered there as she studied him. Perhaps it was pity, or perhaps something deeper.
She gestured to the chair by the window. "You may sit if you wish."
Kaelen hesitated for only a moment before taking a seat, his posture as rigid as always. He did not belong here, in a room of silk and polished wood. He belonged on the battlefield, surrounded by the noise of war, not this quiet, delicate silence.
Elara returned to the tapestry she had been working on, her fingers gently tracing the threads. She seemed lost in thought, the tension between them palpable.
"You don't look like a warrior," she said suddenly, breaking the silence once more.
Kaelen's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"
Elara paused, her hands stilling on the fabric. "You are a soldier, yes. But you do not have the... air of one who revels in the fight. You are not like the others."
Kaelen did not answer immediately. Her words were astute, perhaps more so than he had expected. It was true—he did not take pleasure in battle, nor did he seek glory. He fought because it was what he was born to do. His sword had seen more blood than he cared to admit, but it had also taken pieces of him with it. He was a man of duty, of honor, but not of desire.
"I fight to protect what matters," he finally said, his voice quieter now.
Elara's gaze flickered to him, an unspoken question hanging in the air. But before she could speak, a soft knock on the door interrupted their conversation. The maid entered with a tray of food, setting it down on the table.
"I'll leave you both to your discussion," the maid said before retreating with a bow.
Kaelen eyed the food warily. He was used to meager rations on the battlefield, not fine meals laid out before him. It all felt... wrong. But he had been ordered to stay by the princess's side, so he did not leave. Instead, he simply watched her, waiting for some signal, some indication of what she wanted from him.
Elara took a small bite of bread, her eyes never leaving him. "Are you hungry, Kaelen?" she asked, her voice softer now, almost... considerate. "You should eat. You've traveled a long way."
His stomach growled, reminding him that it had been hours since he had last eaten, but he hesitated. A warrior did not sit at a noblewoman's table, did not eat her food. It was an unspoken rule.
"I'm not here to eat," he said stiffly.
She smiled faintly, the corners of her lips turning upward. "Perhaps not. But you are here to protect me. And that means you are a part of my life now, for better or worse."
Kaelen did not respond to that, unsure how to react to her words. He was here to protect her—nothing more, nothing less. Yet, already, the line between duty and something else was beginning to blur.