chapter 2- The spark of freedom

The marketplace was alive with the hum of life. The scent of roasted chestnuts mixed with the faint tang of metal from the nearby forge. Laughter echoed from a group of children chasing each other through the narrow streets, their carefree energy a stark contrast to Amelia's carefully measured existence. She felt out of place but oddly comforted by the chaos around her.

Kael leaned against the doorframe of his forge, arms crossed over his chest, studying her with a mix of amusement and curiosity. He looked nothing like the noblemen she was accustomed to. There was no polished charm or calculated posture—only raw, unpretentious confidence.

"So, Amara," he began, the corner of his mouth quirking up. "What's a girl like you doing out here alone at this hour? Most people are home by now."

She hesitated, scrambling to weave a believable story. "I wanted to… see the city at night. It's beautiful," she said, keeping her tone light.

Kael raised an eyebrow but didn't press further. "Well, you've picked the best spot in Eldoria. The marketplace is always buzzing, even after sunset. But it can be dangerous too. You should be careful."

Amelia lifted her chin, unwilling to let him see her nerves. "I can take care of myself."

Kael chuckled, shaking his head. "Suit yourself. Just don't get lost."

She turned away, pretending to be captivated by a nearby vendor selling hand-carved trinkets. Yet, she was acutely aware of Kael's gaze lingering on her. Part of her wanted to leave, to put distance between them before she made a mistake. But another part—a reckless, desperate part—wanted to stay.

As she wandered through the stalls, Amelia couldn't help but notice how different this world was from her own. The vendors bantered with each other, their laughter genuine and unrestrained. Children darted between the stalls, stealing apples and earning playful scoldings from the shopkeepers. It was messy and imperfect, but it felt alive in a way the palace never did.

"See anything you like?" Kael's voice came from behind her, startling her.

She spun around, her cheeks flushing. "You're following me?"

He smirked. "I'd rather call it keeping an eye on you. You don't exactly blend in, you know."

Amelia frowned, glancing down at her plain dress. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Kael shrugged, his smile softening. "You carry yourself differently. Like someone who's used to being obeyed."

Her heart skipped a beat. Had he figured out who she was? No, that was impossible. He would've confronted her already if he knew.

"I'm no one special," she said quickly, her voice a little too sharp.

Kael's eyes narrowed slightly, but he let it go. "If you say so."

Kael gestured toward a bench near the forge. "Come sit. You look like you've never spent more than a minute standing in a place like this."

Amelia hesitated. She wasn't used to being spoken to so casually, much less invited to sit with a commoner. Yet something about Kael's easy confidence intrigued her. Against her better judgment, she followed him.

The bench was rough and worn, nothing like the plush chairs of the palace, but Amelia found it oddly comforting. Kael sat beside her, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees.

"So, Amara," he said, his voice casual, "where are you really from?"

Amelia's heart raced. "What do you mean?"

Kael shrugged. "You're not from around here. Your hands don't have the callouses of someone who's worked a day in her life. Your accent's too refined. And you keep looking over your shoulder, like you're afraid someone's watching you."

She swallowed hard, her mind scrambling for a response. "Maybe I just like keeping my secrets," she said, forcing a smile.

Kael studied her for a moment, his green eyes piercing. Then he leaned back, a grin spreading across his face. "Fair enough. Everyone's entitled to their secrets."

Amelia let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Kael didn't press further, instead launching into a story about a particularly stubborn nobleman who had once demanded a custom sword in half the usual time.

She listened, surprised by how quickly the tension between them eased. Kael's voice was warm and animated, his stories filled with humor and vivid details. He spoke of the forge, the marketplace, and the people of Eldoria with a familiarity that made Amelia realize how little she truly knew about her own kingdom.

As he talked, she found herself relaxing. For the first time in years, she wasn't Princess Amelia, the future queen of Eldoria. She was just Amara, a girl sharing a moment of stolen freedom with someone who didn't expect anything from her.

"Why the forge?" she asked when he paused to take a breath.

Kael looked at her, surprised. "What do you mean?"

"You're clearly smart," she said. "You could've chosen any trade. Why this one?"

He smiled, his expression softening. "Because it's honest work. You take raw materials, shape them with your own hands, and create something useful. Something that lasts."

Amelia nodded, thinking of the fragile alliances and political games that consumed her life. "That must be nice," she said softly.

Kael tilted his head, studying her again. "You don't get to create things, do you?"

She shook her head. "Not the way I'd like to."

They fell into a comfortable silence, the sounds of the marketplace filling the gaps in their conversation. Amelia found herself wishing the moment could last forever, but she knew it couldn't.

"I should go," she said reluctantly, rising to her feet.

Kael stood as well, his expression unreadable. "Will I see you again?"

Amelia hesitated. She knew she shouldn't. Returning would be reckless, dangerous even. But as she looked at Kael, something in her heart stirred—a longing she couldn't ignore.

"Maybe," she said, a small smile playing on her lips.

Kael nodded, his own smile faint but genuine. "Be careful out there, Amara."

As Amelia walked away, the weight of her reality began to settle back onto her shoulders. The palace loomed in the distance, its towers silhouetted against the moonlit sky. She would return to her life of duty and expectations, but for now, she carried the memory of the forge and the man who had treated her like an equal.

For the first time in a long while, she felt a flicker of hope—a hope that maybe, just maybe, her life could be different.