The royal dining hall of Shaameach Palace was a sight to behold—ornate columns carved with the history of Asharath, crystalline chandeliers casting a soft golden glow, and a long table laden with every delicacy imaginable. Walid followed Princess Riya into the hall, his steps hesitant and his gaze wide, still grappling with the sheer magnificence of the palace. His simple, newly gifted garments, though far finer than anything he had ever worn, made him feel out of place in the midst of such splendor.
At the head of the table sat King Tharion, the sovereign of Asharath. His presence radiated authority, his piercing eyes surveying the room with calculated precision. His frame, though aged, was strong, and the faint scars on his hands spoke of a past forged in battle. As his gaze landed on Walid, his expression hardened, a flicker of disapproval crossing his features.
"And who is this… guest you've brought to my table, Riya?" the king asked, his voice deep and resonant.
Riya smiled, undeterred by her father's tone. "Father, this is Walid. He's… unique. I believe there's more to him than meets the eye."
Walid bowed clumsily. "Your Majesty, I am honored to be here."
The king raised an eyebrow. "A commoner? At my table? Riya, your whims grow bolder by the day. What next? Will you invite street performers to dine with us?"
Riya chuckled lightly. "Perhaps. They might bring more joy to this hall."
King Tharion shook his head, though a faint smile betrayed his amusement. "Sit, then, Walid. If my daughter has brought you here, you must have done something remarkable to earn her favor—or her pity."
Walid flushed but said nothing, instead taking his seat near the princess.
The breakfast proceeded amidst an atmosphere of cautious conversation. Walid remained mostly silent, observing the dynamics of the royal family and the nobility. He noted the way the nobles spoke in polished, almost rehearsed tones, their words dripping with veiled intent. The palace was a gilded cage, beautiful on the outside but teeming with intrigue and danger.
But his observations were interrupted when his eyes caught something strange. One of the servants, a wiry man with a fresh cut on his hand, approached the king with a goblet of juice. A single drop of blood fell from the wound into the drink, unnoticed by anyone else.
Walid's instincts flared. His breath quickened, and then, from the depths of his mind, a voice—deep, commanding—resounded.
"Do not hesitate. Act now, Do what you have to do."
The voice was gone as quickly as it came, but its words lingered. Walid leaned closer to Riya and whispered urgently, "That servant… something is wrong."
"What do you mean?" Riya asked, her brow furrowing.
"There's blood in the drink," he hissed.
Riya stiffened, her hand clenching the edge of the table. She stood abruptly. "Father—"
But before she could finish, the servant's hand flicked unnaturally. A blade formed from the blood of his wound, glinting darkly as he lunged toward the king with startling speed.
Time seemed to slow. Walid acted without thinking, leaping from his seat and shoving the servant aside just as the blade came within inches of the king's throat. The two tumbled to the floor, the goblet shattering and spilling its poisoned contents across the marble.
"Traitor!" the captain of the guard roared, bursting into the hall with his sword already ablaze. The blade, infused with the fiery essence of an Aether Crystal, cut through the air with a searing hiss.
The servant snarled, his eyes darkening with malice as he recovered, but he had no chance to strike again. The captain's flaming blade cleaved through him, reducing him to ash in a single, decisive strike. The room fell silent, save for the crackling of the embers left behind.
As the chaos settled, King Tharion rose to his feet, his face a mixture of shock and anger. "Who was he?" the king demanded, his voice echoing through the hall.
The guards searched the remains but found no clues—no insignias, no letters, nothing to reveal the assassin's allegiance.
"A spy, likely sent by a rival kingdom," Lorian said grimly. "But the specifics… we'll need time to uncover."
The king's gaze shifted to Walid, who stood silently amidst the aftermath. "You," the king said, his voice softer. "You saved my life."
Walid shook his head. "I only did what anyone would have done."
"Not anyone," the king replied, a faint smile breaking through his stern demeanor. "You've proven yourself to be more than a commoner. For your bravery, I name you Lord Walid of Shaameach. Tonight, you will dine with us again as an honored guest."
The title landed heavily on Walid's shoulders. The room erupted into murmurs, some nobles whispering their approval while others eyed him with barely concealed disdain.
Later that evening, Walid found himself back in the royal dining hall, this time dressed in fine clothes that felt foreign against his skin. The dinner was a grand affair, filled with laughter, music, and opulent displays of wealth. Walid ate sparingly, his mind too preoccupied with the events of the day.
As the feast ended, Princess Riya approached him. She dismissed the servants and guards with a wave of her hand, leaving the two of them alone in the flickering candlelight.
"You've done more today than anyone could have expected," she said, her voice soft. "Not just for my father, but for me."
Walid looked at her, confused. "For you?"
She stepped closer, her emerald eyes locking onto his. "You've shown me that there are people worth trusting, even outside the palace walls. You've proven yourself."
"I didn't do it for trust," he replied. "I did it because it was the right thing to do."
Riya smiled faintly, her gaze dropping to his lips before rising to meet his eyes again. "That's what makes you different."
For a moment, silence hung between them. Then, to Walid's shock, she reached out, placing a hand on his chest. "Your room has been prepared, but…" She hesitated, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I don't want you to sleep there tonight."
His breath caught. "What do you mean?"
She leaned in, so close he could feel the warmth of her breath. "Stay with me tonight, Walid. In my bed."
Her words sent a jolt through him. The air seemed to thicken, charged with an intensity he didn't know how to handle. His mind raced, caught between disbelief and the undeniable pull of her gaze.
"Well?" she asked, her voice soft but commanding. "What do you say?"