A New Beginning at the Border

The border garrison was nothing like the grand palace Arianne had grown up in. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, steel, and earth. Soldiers moved with discipline, their boots kicking up dust as they trained in the open field. The clang of weapons echoed in the air, a rhythmic song of war and duty.

Arianne adjusted the rough tunic she wore, its coarse fabric a stark contrast to the silks she once donned. She glanced at Kael, who seemed oddly at ease despite their predicament. He caught her stare and smirked.

"Excited for our new life, sister?" he teased.

Arianne sighed. "I suppose it's better than being locked in the palace."

"That's the spirit." Kael nudged her shoulder. "Besides, think of it this way—we're free. No one here knows who we are. We get to be just like everyone else."

She nodded, but her heart pounded for a different reason. Rian Dorne.

He was out there somewhere, the man she had only seen from afar. The man she was destined to marry but had never spoken to. And now, he would see her, but not as the princess—only as another recruit.

A horn sounded across the camp, cutting through her thoughts. The soldiers around them straightened, falling into formation. Arianne and Kael hurried to join them.

And then she saw him.

General Rian Dorne strode forward with the confidence of a man who belonged on the battlefield. He was tall, his broad shoulders framed by the dark leather armor that marked his rank. His midnight-black hair was pulled back, and his sharp gray eyes surveyed the gathered soldiers with quiet authority.

Arianne felt her breath catch. She had seen paintings of him, glimpsed him once from the palace balcony, but here, in the flesh, he was even more striking.

His gaze passed over her without hesitation, as if she were no different from the rest. And why would he think otherwise? She was just another nameless soldier to him.

"Welcome to the border garrison," Rian began, his voice deep and steady. "You are no longer nobles, peasants, merchants, or travelers. Here, you are soldiers. You will earn your place with discipline and strength. There will be no special treatment, no exceptions. If you wish to survive, you will follow orders."

His tone was not cruel, but it held the weight of command, and no one dared to speak.

Arianne kept her gaze lowered, but her heart raced.

"You will train from dawn to dusk," Rian continued. "You will wield a sword, shoot an arrow, and ride until your body can no longer bear it. War does not wait for the weak. And I do not tolerate failure."

A pause. Then his piercing gaze swept over them again.

"What are your names?" he asked, his tone firm.

Kael, ever confident, stepped forward. "Kael and Ari," he said smoothly, using the false names they had agreed upon.

Arianne held her breath as Rian's gaze landed on her for the briefest moment. Did he recognize her?

But there was no flicker of recognition. No hesitation.

"Very well," Rian said. "You will begin training immediately. Dismissed."

The Trials of a Soldier

Training was brutal.

Arianne had thought herself prepared, but she quickly learned that life as a soldier was unlike anything she had imagined.

Dawn began with a grueling run around the camp, followed by hours of weapons training. She lifted a sword heavier than anything she had ever held, her muscles straining as she tried to mimic the movements of the seasoned warriors around her.

By midday, her arms burned, her legs ached, and sweat soaked through her clothes. But she refused to show weakness.

Kael, ever the natural, thrived in the harsh conditions. He laughed, joked with the other recruits, and made the exhausting exercises look effortless.

"Struggling already, sister?" he teased as they took a brief break near the water barrels.

Arianne shot him a glare but didn't answer. Instead, she took a deep breath and gripped the hilt of her sword tighter. She had to keep up. She had to prove she could survive this.

Unbeknownst to her, a pair of gray eyes were watching.

Rian Dorne had taken notice of her. Not as a princess, but as a soldier.

She was different from the other recruits. Smaller, more delicate—but determined. He saw the way she gritted her teeth through every drill, refusing to yield. There was a quiet fire in her, one that intrigued him.

He didn't know why, but he found himself watching her more than the others.

A Dangerous Attraction

Days turned to weeks, and Arianne's body adjusted to the rigorous training. Her hands, once soft, now bore calluses from wielding a sword. Her muscles, once untested, grew stronger.

And slowly, she began to draw Rian's attention in ways she hadn't expected.

It started with small things—a passing glance, a correction of her stance during training, a lingering moment when their eyes met.

One evening, after a particularly harsh drill, Arianne was struggling to keep her balance while practicing her footwork. The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the camp.

"You're leaving yourself open," a deep voice said behind her.

She turned, startled, to find Rian standing close.

His gaze flicked to her stance. "If an enemy were in front of you, you'd be dead in seconds."

Arianne swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. "I—I'm trying."

Rian studied her for a moment before stepping forward. "Here," he said, adjusting her grip. His fingers brushed against hers, sending a jolt through her.

"Your weight should be centered," he murmured, guiding her movements with ease.

Arianne tried to focus, but the warmth of his touch, the way his presence dominated the space around her, made it difficult.

"Like this?" she asked softly.

Rian nodded. "Better."

For a moment, neither moved. The world around them faded—the other soldiers, the camp, the setting sun. There was only the quiet tension between them, the unspoken pull neither understood.

And then, as quickly as it had come, Rian stepped back.

"Keep practicing," he said gruffly, his usual sternness returning.

Arianne nodded, her heart pounding.

She had come here to escape, to prove herself as more than a princess.

But now, she was playing a dangerous game—one where her greatest secret lay in the hands of the man who unknowingly held her heart.