A Guard Too Handsome for Comfort

Elara wiped the sweat from her brow, her arms trembling as she struggled to hold the wooden training sword steady. She had long since lost track of time, her mind consumed by one singular, dreadful thought: 

'Why did I think training was a good idea?'

Her instructor, a grizzled old knight who clearly had no patience for weaklings, had been drilling her relentlessly. "Princess, if you hold your sword any looser, the enemy will take it from you and beat you with it," he barked, pacing in front of her. "Again!" 

She groaned, barely managing to lift the sword again. Across the training grounds, Adrian—her younger brother and the supposed fellow victim of this torturous session—was already retreating, dismissed early because, unlike her, he actually had some talent. 

"Good luck, Elara!" he called over his shoulder, smirking. 

She narrowed her eyes at him. 'Traitor.'

Her arms ached, her legs felt like jelly, and if she had to parry one more strike, she was going to— 

A shadow loomed over her. 

"How is the princess faring in her training?" 

A deep, smooth voice rang out behind her, sending a shiver down her spine. Elara turned, expecting yet another instructor or perhaps someone who had come to tell her that she was free to leave. 

Instead, she found herself looking at him. 

Tall. Broad-shouldered. A sharp jawline that looked like it could cut through steel. And those eyes—stormy gray, piercing yet gentle at the same time. His long, dark hair was tied back neatly, and his uniform gleamed under the sunlight, looking far too cool for someone who was just standing there.

Sir Kaelen. 

Her loyal guard. 

'Why is he so handsome?'

Her brain completely short-circuited.

The confident, casual way the previous princess must have interacted with him? Gone. Erased. Replaced by the wide-eyed, socially inept mess that was Elara, former shut-in and professional avoider of real-life men. 

The instructor cleared his throat, completely unfazed by Kaelen's presence. "Her Highness is…" He glanced at her sorry state, then seemed to reconsider his words. "…persevering." 

Translation: 'She's terrible, but at least she hasn't run away yet.'

"She's working hard," Kaelen said, his gaze shifting to her. There was a softness to it, something that made Elara's stomach do an uncomfortable little flip. "That's what matters." 

She opened her mouth, planning to say something, but all that came out was an unintelligible sound that vaguely resembled "Hhhah." 

Kaelen blinked. "Pardon?" 

She clamped her mouth shut, her face heating. 'Get a grip!'

Kaelen turned to the instructor. "May I assist with today's training?" 

Elara stiffened. 'What? No, no, no!'

The instructor stroked his beard, nodding approvingly. "That would be most beneficial. The princess could learn much from sparring against a true knight." 

Elara could learn a lot, yes. But she was also at risk of spontaneously combusting. 

"Shall we?" Kaelen asked, stepping forward and offering his hand to help her steady herself. 

Oh no.

She hesitated. If she took his hand, it would mean physical contact. Skin-to-skin. With a real person. A very handsome real person. 

Elara had spent her entire past life immersed in fiction, swooning over 2D characters who could never break through the screen and make her flustered in person. She had never been this close to someone like Kaelen before. 

And now she had to fight him? 

She quickly wiped her palm against her tunic before reluctantly accepting his help. The warmth of his hand against hers made her heart stutter. 

"Your grip is too light," Kaelen noted, his voice low and calm. "Relax your shoulders, but keep your stance firm." 

Relax? How was she supposed to relax when he was standing so close? 

Before she could dwell on it too long, Kaelen moved. 

In an instant, he was behind her, adjusting her stance with an ease that sent her mind into overdrive. His hand brushed against her lower back, nudging her posture into the proper form. 

"Keep your balance," he murmured. 

She swore her brain had stopped functioning. 

Then, before she could even process what was happening, he took a step back and lifted his own practice sword. "Now, let's begin." 

The first clash of their swords sent a jolt through her arms. Kaelen was clearly holding back, his strikes controlled and measured, but even so, it took all her effort to keep up. 

And the proximity. 

Every time he dodged and countered, he moved too close, his presence overwhelming. When she stumbled, his hand would catch her arm, steadying her before stepping back again like it was nothing. 

It was not nothing. 

"Your Highness, you're hesitating," Kaelen remarked, tilting his head slightly. "A real opponent won't give you time to be distracted." 

Distracted?

Her face burned. 'I wouldn't be distracted if you weren't so ridiculously good-looking!'

She gritted her teeth and forced herself to focus. Okay, okay. She could do this. 'Just stop thinking about how attractive he is and—'

He suddenly leaned in, speaking close to her ear. "Your guard is slipping." 

Her soul nearly left her body. 

That was it. She was done. 

With one final, pitiful attempt at blocking his strike, she missed, lost her footing, and— 

Thud

Flat on her back. Staring at the sky. 

Kaelen peered down at her, amused but polite. "Are you alright?" 

Elara's pride was not. 

"I think," she wheezed, "I need a break." 

The instructor sighed, rubbing his temples. "We have much work to do." 

---------------------------------------------------

Once again, Elara lay sprawled on the training grounds, her limbs aching and her pride shattered beyond repair. The only silver lining in this whole mess was that she hadn't embarrassed herself more than she already had. Well, aside from the part where she almost forgot how to breathe every time Kaelen looked at her. 

"You're improving," he had said. 

That was a bold-faced lie.

If she had improved at all, it was only in resisting the urge to run away from sheer mortification. 

Kaelen extended a hand to help her up again. She eyed it warily, already too aware of how warm his hand had felt earlier. 'Nope. Not falling for that trap again.'

Instead, she rolled onto her side and pushed herself up onto wobbly legs, nearly toppling over in the process. 

Kaelen's hand hovered near her elbow, as if he was ready to catch her, but he made no move to assist. Smart man. 

"Perhaps we should conclude the session here," the instructor suggested, clearly unimpressed with her progress. "Her Highness is exhausted." 

Elara straightened, brushing dust off her tunic. "I'm fine. I could go for another round," she said, attempting to sound confident. 

Her body immediately betrayed her. Her knee buckled. 

Kaelen stepped forward in a blink, steadying her with one arm around her waist. 

Elara froze. 'Error. Brain not found.'

"Are you sure?" he asked, his face entirely too close for comfort. 

She let out the weakest, most pathetic laugh of her life. "Haha. Yeah. Absolutely sure." 

Kaelen didn't look convinced, but he also didn't comment. Instead, he helped her regain her footing and then, thankfully, released her. 

The instructor sighed, rubbing his temples. "That's enough for today. Any more, and we'll have to carry you back inside." 

Elara nodded, relieved. The last thing she needed was to pass out in front of Kaelen and embarrass herself further.

As she turned to leave, she caught sight of her younger brother, Adrian, sitting nearby. He had not gone back inside like he was supposed to. Instead, he was lounging on a bench, grinning like he had just witnessed the funniest thing in his life. 

"How long have you been sitting there?" she demanded. 

Adrian shrugged, resting his chin on his hand. "Long enough." 

"Long enough for what?" 

"To see you turn bright red every time Sir Kaelen got within two feet of you." 

Elara nearly tripped again. "I—I did not!" 

Adrian grinned wider. "You most definitely did." 

Kaelen, ever oblivious, simply turned to the instructor. "Shall I escort the princess back?" 

"No!" Elara blurted out, a little too quickly. "I mean—I can walk back myself. No need to trouble yourself, Sir Kaelen." 

Kaelen nodded, unconcerned. "As you wish, Your Highness." 

Adrian snickered. "She's just shy." 

Elara turned to him with a glare. "Adrian." 

Her little brother held up his hands in surrender, still grinning. "Alright, alright. I'll stop." 

As she marched off toward the palace, she heard Adrian mutter under his breath, just loud enough for her to hear: 

"She's doomed." 

Elara groaned, walking inside and trying not to wince everytime she moved and felt a muscle ache in pain.

'How the heck am I going to rewrite the story when I'm weak as hell?'