Lyria's POV
The training yard was suffused with the lingering scent of dust and scorched stone, remnants of the vigorous training session that had just concluded. A vibrant sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the cracked earth. The air crackled with the remnants of adrenaline and the thrill of the unexpected.
Cara stood beside Raven, her eyes wide with a mixture of awe and eagerness, her heart racing from the excitement of the day's events. "What was that black smoke around your hand?" she exclaimed, leaning in closer, as if trying to physically grasp the mystery that had just unfolded before them. "How did you do that? Teach me, please—just a little!" Her voice brimmed with urgency, a childlike wonder that was hard to resist.
Raven, however, remained composed, her demeanor unshaken by the fervor of her younger companion. Her voice was steady, as calm as the stillness that enveloped the yard after the flurry of activity. "I don't mind teaching you," she replied, her tone measured and cool, "but not now." There was an air of authority in her words, a reminder that mastery came with patience and time.
As she turned her gaze towards me, an unreadable expression flickered across her face—was it concern, or perhaps something deeper? "We should stop for today," she suggested, her eyes momentarily drifting towards the noble twins who had been observing from the sidelines. "Lady Leora and Lord Leonhart need rest."
I nodded, forcing a polite smile even as a sense of relief washed over me. "Alright," I said, directing my attention to Leora, who stood tall and regal, the weight of her lineage evident in her posture. "I'll have the servants prepare a carriage to take you back to your guest estate. We'll meet again this evening." My voice was steady, though I could sense the tension building in the air.
Leora opened her mouth, ready to voice her dissent—of course she would, the fire of her spirit was as strong as ever—but her brother, Leonhart, intervened with a firm grip on her arm. "We're leaving. Now," he commanded, the finality of his tone brooking no argument.
The twins departed, their presence fading like a whisper in the wind. The moment they were out of sight, I exhaled loudly, a rush of air escaping my lungs as if I had been holding my breath. "Finally. They're gone," I muttered, a mixture of relief and exhaustion washing over me.
Cara erupted into laughter, her voice ringing through the training yard like a melody of mischief. "Did you see the way Leonhart kept looking at Raven like she was going to set him on fire? He wouldn't even make eye contact. Absolutely priceless!" Her laughter was infectious, a bright spark amidst the dust and stone that surrounded us.
I pressed my lips together, battling the urge to join her in mirth. The image of Leonhart's startled expression was amusing, yet I felt a weight on my chest that made it hard to fully embrace the humor. Cara nudged me with her elbow, a playful gesture that only intensified my struggle to maintain composure.
"And you, Princess—you did great holding yourself together," she teased, her eyes dancing with delight. "I swear you looked seconds away from exploding at them."
I ignored her, the warmth of embarrassment creeping into my cheeks. Instead, I stepped closer to Raven, perhaps too close for comfort, and offered her a tight smile, trying to mask the turmoil within.
"So… it looks like you're becoming quite close with Leora," I ventured, my voice barely above a whisper.
Raven blinked at me, her expression a mix of confusion and curiosity. "Close? I don't think so. I was just training all of you." Her tone was even, but there was a hint of something—was it defensiveness?
My chest tightened at her words. "That's… good," I managed to say, my voice faltering. "She just… she stood very close to you."
"What?" Raven tilted her head, her brow furrowing slightly. "I didn't hear you."
I stiffened, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. Smile. Hide it. "No, nothing," I replied quickly, trying to brush it aside.
Raven studied me for a moment, her gaze penetrating and thoughtful. I could sense her trying to decipher the unspoken tension, and then I noticed a faint bruise forming on her palm, darkening the skin like a shadow of her strength.
I stepped closer still, my voice dropping to a softer tone than I intended. "I know you're strong, but are you sure you're alright? You blocked a heavy blow with your bare hands. That must have hurt."
A small, almost amused smile tugged at the corners of Raven's lips, the kind that made my heart race. "I didn't feel anything. Don't make that face. Go rest—you trained hard today."
My cheeks warmed uncontrollably at her concern, a mixture of embarrassment and something deeper bubbling within me. "Well… I'm alright," I stammered, struggling to find my footing. "Not tired at all, actually. So… what if we sit in the garden until it's time to escort the nobles around the city? I can get you that drink you mentioned the other day—the one called 'coffee.'"
Raven stared at me, her expression quiet and focused, her dark eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my heart trip over itself. What is she thinking? Why is she looking at me like that? The world around us faded, leaving only the two of us suspended in a moment that felt both electric and fragile.
At last, she gave a tiny smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, a flicker of hesitation lingering there. "I don't want to intrude on your free time."
"You're not intruding!" I blurted out, my voice louder than I had intended. My face burned, the heat spreading to my ears as I added, "I—I like spending time with you."
Just then, Cara appeared behind me like a mischievous sprite summoned by my embarrassment, her grin wickedly playful. "She really doesn't mind at all," she chimed in, her tone teasing. "Quite the opposite."
"Cara!" I swung at her shoulder in a half-hearted attempt to silence her, but she sidestepped with ease, laughter bubbling in her throat.
Raven smiled softly, a sound that broke through the tension. "Alright. If you don't mind."
The warmth of her acceptance washed over me like sunlight breaking through clouds, and for a moment, I felt as though everything would be alright. The day had been filled with challenges, but here, in this moment, I found a flicker of hope—an ember that promised more than just friendship.
The palace garden unfurled before me like a vibrant tapestry, each flower a brushstroke of color against the canvas of green. Roses bloomed in shades of crimson, their velvety petals kissed by the morning dew. Nearby, delicate lilies swayed gently, their white and yellow hues reflecting the sun's golden rays. Tulips stood tall in neat rows, their brilliant reds and soft pinks creating a harmonious symphony of color that filled the air with a sweet, intoxicating fragrance.
At the heart of this floral paradise, a fountain danced, its crystal waters sparkling like diamonds in the sunlight. The soothing sound of water cascading over smooth stones provided a serene backdrop to our gathering. Beneath the wide canopy of an ancient oak tree, a large table awaited us, adorned with fine linens and surrounded by comfortable chairs, inviting us to linger in this tranquil oasis.
As I settled into my seat beside Raven, I felt a sense of contentment wash over me. her presence was steady and reassuring, a stark contrast to the whirlwind of emotions that often engulfed me. Across from us sat Cara, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she surveyed the scene before her.
A servant approached, expertly balancing trays laden with an array of pastries—golden croissants, delicate éclairs, and sweet fruit tarts that gleamed temptingly in the sunlight. The rich aroma of freshly brewed tea wafted toward us, destined for Cara, while the deep, inviting scent of steaming coffee was served to Raven, its dark hue promising warmth and comfort.
"I'll take coffee too," I declared impulsively, the words escaping my lips before I could fully consider them. A sudden craving for the rich, bold flavor surged within me, driven by an inexplicable desire to share this moment with Raven.
Raven's brow arched in surprise, a hint of amusement dancing in her golden eyes, yet she remained silent, as if weighing my request carefully. The air between us crackled with unspoken thoughts, each sip of coffee a potential bridge between our worlds.
As the servant turned to fulfill my request, I felt a flutter of anticipation. This moment, surrounded by beauty and companionship, hinted at the possibilities that lay ahead, like the first light of dawn breaking over a horizon filled with promise.
Raven lifted her cup to her lips with a grace that seemed almost deliberate, as though she were savoring a ritual that transcended mere nourishment. She paused, bringing the porcelain to her nose, inhaling the rich, dark aroma of the coffee. The steam curled upwards, dancing in the soft morning light that filtered through the leaves overhead. Then, with a slow, measured motion, she took a sip, her eyes fluttering shut for just a heartbeat, as if the world around her had faded into oblivion.
But when she opened them again, something had shifted.
A quiet sadness flickered in her gaze, a distant heaviness that seemed to cast a shadow over her features. There was a mystery woven into her expression, something profound and inscrutable that eluded my grasp no matter how intently I focused. I felt as if I were standing on the edge of an abyss, peering into depths that promised both wonder and despair.
Raven was like an unsolvable puzzle, each piece tantalizingly close yet frustratingly out of reach. No—she was more like a locked door, its surface smooth and unyielding, devoid of a keyhole. The more I tried to decipher the enigma that was her, the more impossible she seemed, and paradoxically, the more I found myself longing to understand her.
I couldn't help but stare, my gaze tracing every line of her face, from the delicate arch of her brow to the subtle curve of her lips. Every shift in her expression seemed to speak volumes, whispering secrets that I yearned to uncover.
Raven noticed my scrutiny, her perceptive nature always attuned to the subtle shifts around her.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked, her voice a mixture of curiosity and playful suspicion. "Do I have something on my face?"
I nearly choked on my own drink, the heat of embarrassment flooding my cheeks. "N-no! I just… drifted off," I managed to stammer, wishing I could sink into the earth and disappear.
At that moment, Cara erupted into a loud snort, her laughter ringing out like a sudden burst of fireworks in the tranquil garden. I felt the ground beneath me shift, wishing for nothing more than to be swallowed whole. "You are hopeless, Princess," she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "And how do you drink that stuff? It's so bitter."
"Be quiet," I hissed, still blushing furiously. "It's not that bitter. With sugar, it's good!"
Raven observed the banter between us, her brow slightly furrowed, a hint of confusion mingling with amusement in her eyes. She took another sip of her coffee, her expression thoughtful, as if she were pondering the complexities of friendship and the unspoken ties that bound us together.
In that moment, surrounded by laughter and warmth, I felt a flicker of determination. I wanted to unravel the threads of Raven's story, to discover what lay beneath the surface, hidden away like a treasure waiting to be unearthed.
Raven's eyes suddenly shifted toward the vibrant flowers bordering the table, her gaze sharp and attentive. Something small, almost imperceptible, stirred among the tall blossoms.
"Princess," she whispered, her voice a soft murmur laced with a gentle smile. "Someone is watching us."
I followed the direction of her slender finger, my heart warming as I spotted a small head quickly ducking behind the blooms. It was unmistakably familiar—my little sister, Evanna.
"Evanna," I called softly, my voice full of warmth and invitation. She hesitated, the faintest trace of shyness flickering across her face, before slowly stepping forward toward us.
"What is it, dear?" I asked, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from her forehead with a tender touch. "Do you need something?"
Evanna's gaze dropped to the ground, fixed on the tips of her shoes as if searching for courage there. "No… I finished my lessons early and… I wanted to sit with you. But you looked busy, so… it's fine. I'll go."
She began to turn away, retreating back into the shadows of the garden, but Raven's voice stopped her—a soft, careful sound, like a whisper meant not to frighten a timid bird.
"You can join us. I don't see why not."
Evanna glanced back at me, her eyes wide and hopeful, silently asking for permission. I smiled warmly and gently pulled her into the seat beside me.
"Of course you can," I said, my voice full of reassurance. "Look, your favorite pastries are here. Would you like some tea? Or maybe juice?"
Her small finger pointed eagerly at my cup. "What's that? I want some."
As she reached out, Raven's hand moved softly to block her, a quiet but firm gesture of care.
"You can't drink this yet. It's too strong for you—your stomach will hurt."
Evanna's lips formed a pout, her disappointment clear. Then she sighed, a soft surrender in her breath.
"Fine. Juice then."
We spent a peaceful hour talking—about training, about the fight in the yard, about how quickly I was improving.
But Evanna kept sneaking glances at Raven.
When Raven finally looked back, Evanna jerked away, flustered.
I leaned down.
"What is it? Why are you staring at her?"
Evanna whispered in my ear:
"I thought she would be scary. Everyone in the palace says Raven is an evil witch who came here to destroy our family and our city."
Raven heard every word—of course she did—but she only sipped her coffee silently.
My heart ached.
"She's not scary at all," Evanna continued. "Or bad. She seems… nice."
I smiled warmly.
"You're right. She isn't bad in the slightest. She's helped us a lot. I'd be happy if you got along with her."
Evanna nodded.
The conversation drifted from kingdom plans to training dreams, to silly stories.
Time moved quickly—too quickly.
Soon, it was time to escort the noble twins around the kingdom.
I wasn't looking forward to seeing them…
But I was excited for them to finally leave tomorrow.
After the chaos in the training yard, this tour was supposed to "repair relations."
Leonhart kept glancing at Raven like she might explode at any moment.
And Leora…
Leora stayed close to Raven like a moth clinging to the brightest flame it could find.
We walked through the city's streets —Cara on my left, Raven a step behind me, Leora glued to Raven's side, and Leonhart trailing behind, unusually quiet.
I could feel Raven's presence like a warm shadow at my back.
Calm. Silent. Watchful.
And every time I looked over my shoulder, her eyes were on me.
Not on Leora.
Not on anyone else.
On me.
That alone kept me from losing my temper more than once.
The city center garden was alive with the soft hum of midday activity—the distant chatter of passersby, the gentle rustle of leaves stirred by a warm breeze, and the faint splash of water from the marble fountain at its heart. As we stepped into this serene oasis, Leonhart's posture straightened, his usual confidence flickering back to life.
"This statue was commissioned by my grandfather," he said, his voice swelling with pride as he gestured toward the intricately carved marble fountain. "I thought you'd appreciate the artistry, Princess."
His words floated through the air, but my attention was elsewhere, caught by a subtle shift nearby. Leora had moved closer to Raven—so close that the space between them seemed to shrink, charged with a quiet intensity.
"You were amazing today," Leora whispered, her voice low and earnest. "The way you saved me… I've never seen anyone move like that."
Raven's expression remained calm, almost serene, as if the praise barely registered. "I didn't do anything," she replied softly, her tone steady and unassuming. "You were standing in front of a blow that was meant for me, so it's only natural that I would save you."
"No," Leora insisted gently, her fingers brushing Raven's arm in a tender, almost reverent gesture. "It was amazing and cool. You're really strong." A shy smile blossomed on her lips. "But I still have to thank you. You literally saved my life. Thank you so much."
Meanwhile, Leonhart continued his enthusiastic monologue about the history behind the fountain, unaware of the quiet exchange unfolding beside him. Leora edged even closer to Raven, whispering something that made Raven's lips twitch in the faintest hint of a smile.
I felt a sudden awareness beside me as Cara leaned in, her voice a conspiratorial murmur. "Your eyebrow is twitching."
"It is not," I replied quickly, trying to maintain my composure.
"It is," she repeated with a sly grin. "Do you need me to accidentally push her into the fountain?"
I inhaled sharply, caught off guard by the suggestion. "No."
"…So, a light push then?" Cara teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Cara," I warned, but she only shrugged, her innocence a perfect mask for the playful trouble she was ready to stir.
As we walked deeper into the hall of portraits, Leora drifted ahead with her brother, whispering heatedly at him—probably scolding him again.
But my focus was on Raven.
She had moved closer to my side again.
Close enough that her arm brushed mine whenever we turned a corner.
Every time she did, warmth spread across my skin.
I couldn't help myself.
I said softly:
"You really don't have to follow this closely."
Raven's eyes flicked to me.
"I do," she said simply. "You're my responsibility today."
I melted.
Right there, in the middle of the corridor, I melted into an invisible puddle no one could see but me.
Leora took that exact moment to glance back and notice how close Raven stood to me .
Her expression tightened—
and my satisfaction was utterly shameful.
By late afternoon, Leonhart and Leora prepared to leave the palace for the day.
Leonhart bowed stiffly, avoiding Raven's gaze entirely.
Leora bowed gracefully, though she kept shooting daggers at me with her eyes.
The moment the twins finally turned away and disappeared from sight, I let out a long, steady breath. The tension that had knotted my chest began to loosen, and for a brief second, relief washed over me like a cool breeze. But it was fleeting.
I turned toward Raven, my smile unsteady, a mixture of hope and nervousness fluttering beneath the surface. "Raven… would you like to stay for dinner?" I asked softly, careful to keep my voice light. "I thought maybe we could talk more about training, or—or anything really—"
Her eyes blinked, surprise flickering across her face. Then, slowly, she returned a gentle smile—too gentle, almost fragile in its kindness.
"I'm sorry, Princess," she said quietly, her voice calm but tinged with something I couldn't quite place. "I promised the children at the orphanage I'd be back before sunset… and cook for them."
The words settled heavily inside me, like a stone sinking beneath still water. A quiet ache bloomed in my chest.
"Oh," I murmured, forcing my voice to stay steady, to mask the disappointment I felt. "Of course. They must miss you."
Raven nodded, her golden eyes softening with warmth. "They do."
Behind me, I caught Cara's smirk, barely audible as she whispered, "She's turning you down politely. Ouch."
I shot her a sharp glare, but her grin only widened, mischievous and unapologetic.
Raven bowed with quiet respect, the fading evening sun catching strands of her dark hair, setting them aglow like embers. She stepped away from the palace gates, her figure growing smaller as she disappeared down the winding path.
I stayed rooted where I was, watching her go until she was nothing more than a shadow swallowed by the twilight.
And only then did I realize how tightly my hands were clenched , I really wanted to stay with her .
The palace felt too quiet after she left.
Too empty.
I sat on my bed, staring at the window where moonlight spilled across the sheets.
I should have been tired.
It had been a long, chaotic day.
But instead—
I replayed every moment with Raven.
Every word.
Every touch.
Her hand over mine.
Her voice in my ear.
Her calm expression when facing danger.
Her gentle smile.
And—
The way she pulled Leora into her arms to save her.
My stomach twisted at that memory.
I buried my face in my hands.
"This is ridiculous," I muttered.
I was the princess.
I was supposed to be composed.
Calm.
Rational.
But one girl—
one stubborn, brave, strong, beautiful girl—
had completely unraveled me.
The soft fabric of my pillow cradled my head as I lay still, eyes fixed on the pale ceiling above me, barely illuminated by the faint glow of the moonlight filtering through the curtains. The room was quiet, wrapped in a gentle hush that made every breath feel louder, every heartbeat more insistent.
A thousand thoughts swirled in my mind, but one hope clung stubbornly to the edges of my consciousness. Maybe tomorrow… maybe tomorrow I'd find another chance to speak with her alone, away from prying eyes and hurried goodbyes. Maybe she'd linger just a little longer, her presence stretching the moments between us like a delicate thread.
I traced the outline of my lips with my fingertips, a shy smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. The thought of her—the way she moved, the softness in her voice, the quiet strength in her eyes—made my heart flutter wildly beneath my palm. I pressed my hand there, trying to steady the rapid rhythm, but it was no use.
"Raven…" I breathed her name into the stillness, the sound barely more than a whisper, yet it filled the room with a warmth that chased away the shadows.
That name echoed in my mind, a gentle refrain that refused to fade. Long after the moon had sailed across the ink-black sky, long after sleep had slipped away from me, my thoughts remained tangled with her—her smile, her kindness, the promise of something just out of reach.