I decided to go with the princess to the capital city—Eryndral.
She had been apologizing profusely since earlier, and I had told her countless times that no, I wasn't angry, yes, I was okay, and no, I didn't hate her.
But she still didn't seem convinced. Her guilt clung to her like a weight she couldn't let go of, so I spent most of the evening reassuring her until she finally drifted off to sleep.
The king was seated beside me now, his eyes fixed on his sleeping daughter. There was a heaviness to his presence, an aura of restrained grief and anger that filled the room.
"I can only imagine what she's going through right now," he said, his voice low and distant. "My soldiers are investigating the site, recovering what they can of Serenya, my beautiful wife. I wanted to go myself, but my advisors insisted it would be too dangerous. They said it's safer for me to stay away, to stay hidden, but..."
He paused, his hand tightening into a fist on his lap. "I'm not used to this. Hiding. It feels like I'm betraying her memory by staying back. But if I die now, the kingdom will fall into chaos. Everything Serenya and I worked for—everything she believed in—will crumble. My sons will tear the realm apart fighting for the throne, and Valderin will be ruined."
I stayed silent, unsure of what to say. His words carried a weight I couldn't comprehend, the burden of a kingdom resting on his shoulders. What could a farmer's son like me possibly offer to that?
He sighed heavily and turned his gaze to me, his expression softening.
"I'm glad you decided to come with us," he said, his tone quieter now. "I could have presented your reward here, but I think it's better this way. We'll hold the ceremony at the palace. More importantly..." He glanced at Elara, who stirred fitfully in her sleep. "I think she needs you right now, more than she needs me."
"Umm... It's okay, your majesty. It's my pleasure," I stammered. "I'm glad to be of service to the princess and... and to you, of course."
The king looked at me for a long moment, his piercing blue eyes studying me. Then, his gaze softened, and he gave a faint smile.
"Have you decided yet?"
"Decided on what?" I asked, genuinely confused.
At that, he chuckled softly, the sound tired but genuine. "On what you want to ask me."
I blinked, my mind scrambling. "Ah..." I hesitated, unsure of how to respond. "Umm... I'm not really sure, your majesty. I suppose... money? But that's all I can think of. I'm just a simple village boy. I don't know much about these things, so... I guess I'll take whatever you feel is fair, your majesty."
The king smiled faintly, his expression tinged with amusement and sympathy. Before he could respond, a soft sound broke the silence.
Elara whimpered in her sleep, her small frame trembling as her restless murmurs filled the room.
"Caelan," she whispered desperately, her voice raw and pleading even in her dreams.
I glanced at the king, unsure of what to do. His gaze shifted to his daughter, and his face darkened, grief flickering briefly in his eyes—grief for her pain and the cruel circumstances that had brought them here. Slowly, he rose to his feet.
"Go to her," he said softly, nodding toward the princess.
I hesitated, but he gestured again, his voice heavy with sadness. "She trusts you. She needs you. Go."
I moved toward Elara, gently kneeling by her side. She stirred as I lightly touched her shoulder, her breathing steadying at the sound of my voice. Behind me, the king's voice echoed softly, filled with both gratitude and command.
"Protect her well, young Caelan," he said. I turned my head to see him standing near the door, his imposing frame silhouetted against the faint light of the hallway.
Then, without another word, he left the room, leaving me alone with the princess, the weight of his words settling heavily in my chest.
**
After what felt like an eternity of restless movements and muffled sobs, the princess woke with a jolt, her breathing ragged, her eyes wide with terror. The dim light of the room barely illuminated her pale face, and for a moment, she looked lost, her gaze darting wildly until it landed on me.
"Caelan," she cried, her voice breaking as she flung herself into my arms.
She trembled violently, her small frame wracked with sobs that tore through her like waves crashing against a fragile shore. Her tears soaked through my shirt, but I didn't care. My arms wrapped around her instinctively, holding her tightly, as though I could shield her from the nightmares that haunted her.
Her words came in gasps, broken by her cries. "I-I saw them," she stammered, her voice trembling. "Mother... she was there..."
Her head burrowed deeper into my chest as her voice grew quieter, yet no less pained. "They were finished with her. Their eyes... Caelan, I saw it. I saw it in their eyes."
Her words faltered, and her voice dropped to a whisper that chilled me to the bone. "I was going to be next."
A wail ripped from her throat, raw and anguished, shattering whatever composure I had left. My jaw clenched, my arms tightening around her as if holding her together would stop her from falling apart. A searing rage burned in my chest—rage for those monsters who had done this, who had taken her mother and left her with scars no child should bear. If I could, I would have dragged them back from death just to kill them again, slower this time, making sure they knew what it felt like to beg for mercy.
"It's okay, Princess," I whispered, my voice as steady as I could make it, though my heart ached with every shudder of her fragile body. "You're safe now. I'm here. It's okay... I'm not going anywhere."
Her sobs began to quiet, her breaths still hitching but less frantic. Slowly, the trembling subsided, though she clung to me with a desperation that broke my heart.
After a long silence, her small voice emerged, barely audible. "Caelan..."
"Yes, Elara?" I said softly, the sound of her name on my lips feeling both familiar and foreign.
"I'm scared to be alone," she confessed, her words so vulnerable that I felt a pang of guilt for every moment I'd thought about leaving her side.
"You're not alone, Princess," I replied gently, stroking her hair as she nestled closer.
She pulled back just enough to look at me, her tear-streaked face illuminated by the faint glow of the lantern. Her eyes, red-rimmed but shining, held an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. "Because you're always going to be with me?"
The words hung in the air, heavy and laced with something I couldn't quite place. Her gaze pierced through me, searching for reassurance I wasn't sure I had the right to give.
"Yes," I said after a moment, my voice barely above a whisper. The word felt final, like a promise I hadn't meant to make but couldn't take back.
"Always?" she asked, her voice soft yet insistent, her eyes unblinking.
"Always," I repeated, knowing in that moment that I meant it, though something about her expression sent an uneasy chill crawling up my spine.
She smiled—a small, fragile smile that seemed at odds with the storm of grief and fear she had just shown me. It wasn't a smile of relief or happiness, but something else entirely, something I couldn't name. In that moment, as she leaned back into my chest, I felt an unfamiliar weight settle over me, like chains wrapping around my very soul.
The room fell silent save for the steady rhythm of her breathing. I held her close, my hand resting gently on her back, but my thoughts were far from the quiet comfort of the moment.
I had made a promise—a simple, kind lie to ease the pain of a broken girl. Yet, in the stillness of the room, it felt like I had tied myself to something much larger, something I didn't yet understand. Her words echoed in my mind, not as a plea but as a quiet demand, laced with a weight that felt heavier than it should.
And as she drifted off in my arms, her breathing evening out into the calm of sleep, a cold thought crept into the back of my mind, unbidden but impossible to ignore.
This promise was not one I would walk away from easily.
**
The attack was sudden, brutal, and devastating.
A deafening explosion ripped through the mansion, shaking it to its very foundation. The walls groaned under the force, cracks splintering like jagged veins across the stone. The shockwave sent a jarring vibration through the floor, and I could hear faint screams in the distance, swallowed by the chaos of splintering wood and crumbling stone.
My resonance skill flared to life, an overwhelming flood of information bombarding my senses. I could feel them—figures moving with deadly precision, their intent cold and calculated. Knights and soldiers were falling, their positions crumbling as steel met flesh. The attackers weren't just slaughtering—they were carving a path, deliberate and unrelenting, toward the heart of the mansion.
The air felt suffocating, heavy with the acrid stench of smoke and burning debris. My pulse thundered in my ears as I pulled Elara close, her small, trembling frame clutching at my shirt. She didn't speak—she didn't need to. Her fear was palpable, and it mirrored my own.
The distant sound of combat grew louder, closer, a relentless drumbeat of death marching toward us. My resonance skill screamed warnings: multiple hostiles approaching, their footsteps methodical, their intentions clear.
They weren't here for her.
No, their target was the king. But that didn't mean they wouldn't destroy everything—and everyone—in their path. If Elara died here, if she became collateral damage, it would shatter the king and the kingdom alike. They didn't need to take her. They just needed her to fall.
I tightened my grip on her, whispering against the roar of chaos, "It's okay, Elara... I'll protect you. I promise."
The words felt hollow, a desperate lie to calm her trembling. Because deep down, I wasn't sure I could. My resonance skill kept feeding me glimpses of the storm closing in—shards of fire, blades flashing, soldiers falling.
Then, heavy footsteps echoed in the hallway just outside, accompanied by the crackling roar of flames and the sharp, rhythmic hum of something mechanical. My heart sank as shadows danced beneath the doorframe, flickering with the glow of destruction.
The door creaked open, revealing a figure silhouetted in the burning light. They stepped inside slowly, a predator surveying its prey. The sound of distant screams and collapsing stone seemed to fade, replaced by the steady beat of my heart pounding in my ears.
They weren't looking for us. But they'd found us all the same.
My breath caught in my throat as the figure's voice sliced through the tension like a blade, cold and impersonal.
"Finish the job. Leave no witnesses."
Elara whimpered, clutching me tighter as the words sank in. There was no negotiation here, no hesitation. Only death. My grip tightened around her, my mind racing for a plan—any plan—but all I could feel was the cold inevitability pressing down on us.
And then they stepped closer.