The training hall was silent except for the faint echo of boots on polished stone. Kaelis adjusted her grip on her daggers, the familiar weight grounding her in the storm of emotions churning in her chest. Across from her, Ruria's eyes blazed like twin embers, her posture taut and ready, every inch radiating determination—and fury.
"So this is how you repay me?" Ruria said, voice sharp. "After saving my life, after everything, this is how you behave? Trying to steal him?"
Kaelis' jaw tightened. She had expected anger, perhaps even resentment, but Ruria's intensity was a force of its own. "I… I never intended to—" she began, but Ruria's glare stopped her words mid-air.
"You think you can just waltz in and claim him because he spared your worthless life?" Ruria's words cut deep, but Kaelis did not flinch. Every assassin instinct in her body screamed for calm, for control.
Valeor's presence hung invisibly over the hall. He stood at the edge of the mezzanine, crimson eyes half-lidded, lips curling into a faint smile. He did not intervene; he did not need to. Every movement, every tension between the women, played like a symphony to him.
Kaelis exhaled slowly, centering herself. She remembered the night she had first seen him—the night she had almost died by his hand. The thought of how close she had been to death, and how easily he could have ended her, surged through her chest, mingling with fear, respect, and a strange heat she refused to name.
Ruria lunged first. The clash of daggers and steel echoed through the hall. Kaelis moved like water, precise and controlled, every block, every dodge, a reflection of decades of training. Her heart pounded, not from fear, but from the intensity of the duel—the fire of her rival, the thrill of testing herself against someone who was not just strong, but emotionally invested.
Valeor watched, crimson eyes gleaming. He could see every microexpression, every falter, every calculation. To him, this was entertainment. To Kaelis, it was a dance of death in miniature—a duel of pride, skill, and unspoken emotion.
Ruria pressed forward with ferocity, each strike fueled by jealousy and frustration. Kaelis deflected and countered, the rhythm of steel ringing in her ears. She felt a strange clarity amidst the chaos: she had survived assassins, armies, even dragons, yet this duel—the clash of hearts, rivalry, and raw skill—was proving to be the most intense trial she had faced.
Valeor's lips curved faintly as Ruria swung again, forcing Kaelis to leap backward. He could have intervened, ended the duel in an instant, but he did not. That would ruin the lesson. The amusement flickering in his gaze was unmistakable. He wanted to see Kaelis test herself against Ruria, to see how she would navigate the storm of rivalry, jealousy, and power.
Sweat ran down Kaelis' face. Her arms ached, muscles burned, but she did not stop. Every motion was deliberate, measured—every strike a statement. I will not fail. I will not falter. I will prove myself worthy, even to her.
Ruria's movements became more desperate, more precise, and Kaelis could feel the shift. Her rival was strong, but Kaelis was stronger—trained, experienced, and sharpened by death itself. She remembered her clan, the missions she had survived, the nights she had faced death alone. And now, here, she would face Ruria—the person who had been saved by her, yet now demanded her skill and respect.
A strike aimed at Kaelis' side was narrowly deflected, sparks flying as steel met steel. The air thickened, charged with tension and heat. Kaelis' breath came faster, her muscles screaming for relief, yet she pressed on. She remembered the moment she had almost died at Valeor's hand. I am stronger than fear. I am alive because I survived. I will prove it now.
And then, as Ruria advanced with a lightning-fast series of attacks, Kaelis countered, spinning, slicing, and striking with flawless precision. Ruria staggered slightly, eyes widening with shock. Kaelis' chest heaved, sweat and effort mingling, yet her expression remained calm, determined.
Valeor's crimson eyes gleamed as he leaned against the railing. Almost there, his gaze seemed to say. Show me everything you are.
Kaelis met Ruria's eyes, her own filled with a mixture of respect and apology, determination and fear. "I'm sorry," she whispered under her breath, though Ruria could not hear. "I will… I need your permission. I need your understanding."
The duel raged on, blades clashing, sparks flying, sweat dripping from both warriors. Kaelis could feel the edge of victory approaching, but she did not allow herself to become arrogant. Every move mattered, every breath counted, and every second brought her closer to the end.
And then, mid-motion, as Ruria lunged with everything she had, Kaelis' dagger connected, disarming her rival without harm. Ruria's eyes widened in disbelief. Kaelis froze for a heartbeat, chest heaving, hands shaking—but her gaze did not falter.
Valeor's lips curved into a faint, dangerous smile. He did not speak. He did not need to.
The battle paused. The outcome hung in the air like a blade ready to fall.
Kaelis exhaled slowly, lowering her weapons. "Ruria… I—" she began, but the words were drowned out by the tension of the moment, the silence of the hall, and the heavy presence of Valeor above them.
The duel was not yet over. The moment teetered on the edge, suspended between rivalry, respect, and the unspoken chaos of hearts and desire.
The hall was silent except for the ragged breaths of Kaelis and Ruria. Kaelis' hands still trembled slightly, though her daggers were lowered. The clash of steel and sparks had ceased, leaving only the heavy, suffocating tension between them. Valeor's presence hovered above, calm and absolute, crimson eyes surveying the scene with cold amusement.
Kaelis swallowed hard, chest tight. Every instinct screamed caution, but her resolve was unwavering. She stepped forward, bowing slightly to Ruria. Her voice, though quiet, carried weight. "Ruria… I am sorry. Truly. I never intended to disrespect you or… or claim what is yours. But I must ask… your permission. If I am to follow him, to be near him… I need your understanding."
Ruria froze, blinking at her. The fury and pride in her eyes were still there, but behind them, a storm of resignation and acknowledgment brewed. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she let out a slow exhale, as though weighing Kaelis' sincerity.
Valeor's crimson eyes flicked between them, barely concealing the amusement that danced behind them. He did not intervene. He did not need to. This was not his lesson—it was hers. The duel, the words, the tension—it all played into his orchestration.
Kaelis met Ruria's gaze fully, unwavering. "I will not take him by force. I will not disrespect you. But I… I am here. I am devoted to him. I will follow him to the ends of the earth if I must. I only ask for your understanding."
Ruria's chest heaved slightly. She crossed her arms, pouting, though her gaze softened imperceptibly. "You… actually have some nerve, don't you?" Her voice was low, laced with both irritation and reluctant respect. "I suppose… I cannot stop you. He… he is not mine to give or withhold. And, judging by the way he looks at both of us… he is not one to be bargained with."
Kaelis' shoulders sagged with relief. She nodded slowly, bowing once more. "Thank you. Truly."
Valeor's faint smile widened as he descended the mezzanine stairs, his presence magnetic, dominant, and impossibly absolute. The women straightened instinctively as he approached, the air thick with the unspoken truth: he was untouchable, and no one could oppose him—not in skill, not in will, not in desire.
He stopped before them, crimson eyes glinting. "It seems… the formalities are complete," he said softly, almost mockingly. "You understand your roles, yes? Your priorities?"
Kaelis' heart skipped. She met his gaze, unable to look away, feeling a strange heat bloom in her chest. "I… understand."
Ruria stepped forward, lifting her chin defiantly, though her lips trembled slightly. "And I… I will not interfere. But you—" she pointed a finger at him, voice sharp yet tinged with amusement "—do not forget who was first."
Valeor's smile deepened. "I never forget," he murmured, his voice low, dangerous, and teasing. "You are both… precious in your ways. But in the end, everything belongs to me."
The room was heavy with tension, power, and unspoken desire. Kaelis felt her chest tighten, every heartbeat a reminder of what she had risked, what she had endured, and what she now desired. Ruria's pride and strength had been tested, her anger restrained, but the bond between the two women—tested, strained, and intertwined—was far from broken.
Valeor's gaze flicked between them once more, lingering on Kaelis, then Ruria, the faintest curve of a smile tracing his lips. "We move forward," he said simply. "And anyone who challenges us will learn… that nothing belongs to anyone but me."
The silence that followed was thick, heavy, and almost sacred. Kaelis lowered her eyes, chest heaving. Her thoughts swirled with gratitude, guilt, admiration, and something deeper—something she refused to name, yet could not escape.
Ruria's gaze softened imperceptibly, her lips twitching as though fighting a smile. She turned slightly, acknowledging Kaelis' sincerity, even if reluctantly. There would be no conflict today. For now.
Valeor stepped back, letting the silence linger, the two women standing before him. His presence alone was enough to hold them in place, hearts pounding, desires flaring, emotions tangled in the web he had created.
And in that quiet moment, Kaelis realized something terrifyingly simple: she was in love with him.
Her pulse quickened, chest tight, and yet, she did not speak. She could not. Valeor's gaze alone was a sentence, a command, a caress, and a warning all at once.
Ruria's lips pressed together in a pout, and Kaelis felt a mixture of relief and guilt twist inside her. She had earned her place, but at what cost? At what cost to friendship, to loyalty, to the chaos that now defined them all?
Valeor's crimson eyes glimmered with satisfaction. The duel, the tension, the emotions—everything had unfolded exactly as he had intended. And as he looked at them both, he knew, as always, he was absolute.