CHAPTER TWO

Ophelia went outside and shut the door. Sage stood at the side of the door and she turned to him.

"Let's go spar," she said with a smile so contagious that he gave her a small smile.

"Sure, let's go," he said, and before he could think, she teleported them away.

They appeared in her room where she took her favorite sword from upon her weapon wall.

Its hilt was adorned with a giant gleaming ruby in the middle, encircled by multiple purple gems. The blade itself was forged with the finest steel. Etched along the blade were intricate patterns, the most notable one being a swirly dragon that went down its length.

"At this point, that's the only sword you actually use," Sage stated the obvious.

"I can use another sword if you would like," she suggested, looking him up and down, and he took a step closer to her.

"Is that so, your highness?" he whispered in her ear with a rather flirtatious tone.

"Yes, it is, Mr. Caddell," she replied, trying to hide how flustered she was.

"Then by all means, go ahead, " he whispered, and she could hear the smile in his voice.

"Maybe next time, love," she said and walked away from him, with her face as red as possible.

She teleported them to the corner of the castle where her father taught her how to hold a sword, and stood in front of each other pulling out their swords.

"What do I get if I win?" Sage asked, spinning his sword in his hand.

"Nothing, because you aren't winning," she replied.

"We'll see about that, your highness," he smirked. He hardly ever called her by her name, which was normal before they were together, but now it is a nickname of sorts.

Ophelia swung her sword first, but Sage jumped out of the way resulting in her only cutting through air with jarring precision. He parried her blow effortlessly, their swords clashing in a flurry of sparks.

"What did your father tell you?" he asked, countering her attack.

"The Emperor has called a meeting with all the kingdoms' royals to be held the day after tomorrow," she said, lunging at him again, only for him to block her with his sword.

"What is the meeting about?" he asked as he tried to disarm her by knocking her sword out of her hand, but she caught on to what he was trying to do.

"I haven't the slightest clue," she said, holding her sword with both hands above her while he attacked. While he was busy attacking, she took this opportunity to sweep her legs under him, causing him to slip and fall backwards.

She pointed her sword to his chest, and he took her unarmed hand and pulled her down on top of him, making her gasp. He took her armed hand to the side so he wouldn't be prematurely impaled.

"Well, isn't this scandalous," she breathed, making him chuckle.

"I told you, you wouldn't win," Ophelia said victoriously. She tried to get off him, but it wasn't successful as he flipped her under him, supporting his weight with one hand.

"Where do you think you're going, your highness?" he asked, raising a brow, as he raised her hands above her head, holding both her wrists with one hand.

"Um, my room?" she said, even though it came out more as a question.

"Mhm," he crooned, even though it was clear he wasn't paying attention to anything she said. He was far too interested in her lips. There was this obvious tension in the air, so thick you could cut it with a knife.

She snapped her fingers above her head and a barrier of sorts went up around the training grounds, one that would make it look like no one was on the grounds.

"Why the barrier, your highness?" Sage asked with a little smirk on his face, and Ophelia only shrugged.

Their breaths mingled, hot and heavy with anticipation. His eyes, dark with desire, met hers, sparking an intensity that neither could deny.

With a gentle hand, he cupped her cheek, his touch sending shivers down her spine. Ophelia's heart raced as she felt his lips draw closer, the scent of his skin intoxicating, like that of sun-warmed earth after summer rain.

Their lips finally met in a fiery kiss, a passionate exchange that spoke of longing and longing fulfilled. As she wrapped her hand around his neck, pulling him closer, she moaned into his mouth. Time seemed to stand still as they lost themselves in each other, the world fading away around them.

They broke apart, breathless, both their eyes dilated with lust.

"Uh," Ophelia tried to find words, but her head was a mess—a blushing one—but one nonetheless.

"Is my princess flustered?" Sage asked, the smile evident in his voice, and Ophelia turned away to hide her face.

"Upon all the times I've kissed you, your face still gets as red as a beet, your highness," Sage said, turning her face to him with one of his hands.

"I have no idea what you speak of," she denied.

"Are you sure?" he questioned, with a raised brow.

"Mhm," she hummed in reply, looking anywhere but his eyes.

'Oh, my princess is in denial,' he said, shaking his head as he got off her.

He took her hand and pulled her into his chest and just held her.

"I wish we could be like this all the time," she spoke into his chest.

"Soon," he said and that single word filled her chest with joy.

"Soon," she said back.

"Let's get back to the palace before they start searching for me," she said as she pulled away and he nodded.

She snapped her fingers and took down the barrier, so they were visible to the world once again.

She walked to her room, while Sage walked behind her looking like the dutiful guard he was. Gone was the soft look in his eyes. Anyone who saw him now would think he was on the verge of murdering him. Well, anyone but Ophelia.

"The sun is setting and I need to get cleaned up," she said as they stood in front of her room door.

"Shall I join you, your highness?" he asked her.

"While tempting, Mr. Caddell, I will have to deny your request," she smiled.

"The offer is always open, if you change your mind," he said as she walked into the room and closed the door behind her.

She entered her room and was startled by a figure.

"Avila!" she yelled.

"Yes, your highness," she replied giddily.

"Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!" she asked, exasperatedly.

"Of course not, your highness," she denied vehemently, and Ophelia just shook her head.

"Anyways, I'm going to take a bath," she announced, as she walked into her bathroom.

"Your highness, don't worry, I shall set up the bath," Avila said trailing behind her.

It was considerably large, with an unnecessarily large gold tub, so large that you would think it was a pool. The washbasin, made of such pristine marble. The faucets all made of precious stones and following a certain color scheme. Everything was bright, bubbly, and elegant all at the same time.

As she set up the bath and put in essential oils, Ophelia stood in front of the mirror and began to take out the braid in her hair, revealing her thick, long, luscious hair. Her favorite part of herself, although it could get tiring having to brush it out. To the point where it felt like her arms would fall off.

"You have beautiful hair, your highness," Avila complimented from behind her.

"Thank you," she smiled.

"You should let it down more often," Avila suggested.

"No matter how much I love my hair, it tends to get hard to handle when it's down," she said, while running her hand through her hair, even though it got caught in it. Avila just nodded.

"That's enough of the formalities, for heaven's sake," Avila sighed and Ophelia started laughing.

"I was wondering how long you would keep up the act," Ophelia said.

"I just wanted to see what it was like to be a normal maid to you," Avila revealed.

"Well, a normal maid hasn't trauma-bonded with me," Ophelia pointed out.

"Touché."

"So…" Avila started.

"So?" Ophelia questioned.

"Anything happen between you and pretty eyes?" she asked.

"First off, not your business. Secondly, I need a bath, so if you would excuse me," she said, nudging her to the door.

"Come on," Avila whined.

"No," she said, pushing her out.

"Don't be a bore," she practically begged.

"I am a bore. Now, out," she finally shoved her out and locked the door, after which she rolled her eyes.

"I will be back," Avila said from the other side of the door.

"I know you will," Ophelia replied.

Ophelia stripped off her clothes and got into the tub, the warm water relaxing her muscles.

She closed her eyes and not even five minutes later, images of masked men appeared. She sat up and opened her eyes, panting.

"And here I thought I was going to enjoy this bath and relax," she sighed and scrubbed herself up. She got out of the tub and wrapped a towel around herself and quickly washed her hair.

She went into her room, walked into her closet and brought out her silk, white nightgown, since it was already sundown and night was fast approaching.

She quickly braided her wet hair, after patting it down with a towel, then tied it into a low bun.

She put on her robe and went outside where Sage was waiting.

"You didn't have to wait for me," she told him.

"I know," he said.

"But I wanted to… and you didn't take that long," he pointed out.

"Memories," she simply said and he knew what she meant instantly.

"Again?" he asked and she nodded, looking down.

He pulled her into his arms and just hugged her for a while, as she buried her face in his chest.

"I may have not been there for you then, but I will always be here for you," he promised and she mumbled a 'thank you' into his chest.

He placed a kiss on her head and she pulled away.

"I want to go to the library," she said, as if she was just on the verge of tears.

"Of course, let's go, your highness," he said and they started walking to the library.

'Oh, my princess, always so avoidant,' he thought.

They got to the library and met the elderly castle librarian, as he was leaving.

"Greetings, your highness," he greeted, the wrinkles on his face becoming more obvious as he smiled at her.

"Rubin, greetings," Ophelia smiled back.

"Sir Caddell," he greeted.

"Rubin," Sage reciprocated with a curt nod.

Rubin was an elf. The elves were the ones who believed in going through life without violence; they were calm and serene.

"I'll leave now, Princess Ophelia."

"Of course, good night, Rubin," she said.

"Good night, your highness," after which he walked off.

They entered the library and Ophelia took one of the books back to her quarters, since she probably was not going to get much sleep.