Whispers of Steel and Secrets

The palace was always colder at night, even in the height of summer.

Elias stood beneath the looming towers of the east wing, staring up at the stars with his fists clenched at his sides. The evening breeze tugged at his tunic, and somewhere in the distance, the hounds from the hunt howled in their kennels. But Elias didn't hear them.

He was thinking of Charlotte.

The way she had fallen down that slope. The way her voice had trembled when she told him she was hurt. The way she had looked at him—not as a princess would look at a servant, but as if she truly saw him.

And he had nearly been too late.

"I could've stopped her," he muttered under his breath. "I should've been faster."

"You couldn't have known," said a voice behind him.

He turned sharply. Alina.

She moved with quiet grace, her silhouette poised in the moonlight. Even without jewels, she seemed to wear a kind of natural crown—calm and steady, unlike Charlotte's wild flame. Alina was married now to a duke, a title that fit her far less snugly than "heroine" ever had.

Elias bowed his head, a little embarrassed by his own turmoil.

"She's all right," Alina said gently. "Charlotte's tougher than she looks."

"I know," he murmured. "But what if next time she isn't?"

A silence stretched between them. Alina's gaze was steady, more perceptive than he would have liked.

"You care for her," she said—not a question.

"I'd walk through fire if she asked," Elias admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "She's reckless. Brilliant. She dives headfirst into chaos like it can't touch her. But it can." He stared at his hands, hands that had barely managed to catch her. "And next time... what if I can't reach her in time?"

Alina tilted her head, studying him thoughtfully. "Then what are you going to do about it?"

He blinked at her, thrown off by the simplicity of the question.

"I want to be more than someone standing in the background," he said slowly. "I want to stand beside her. To protect her when she won't protect herself."

Alina smiled—a quiet, knowing smile. "Then perhaps it's time you asked to train as a knight."

His breath caught. "You think they'd allow it?"

"If you work hard enough?" She shrugged lightly. "Yes. Princess Charlotte has enough courtiers and flatterers. What she needs is someone who sees her as she is. Someone willing to fight for her, not because of her crown."

The words struck him deep, rooting inside like a vow.

Elias lifted his gaze to the stars again, the weight of his resolve anchoring him to the earth. "Then I'll train. Every day. I'll learn to fight, to ride, to guard. So next time... I won't hesitate. I'll be ready."

Alina stepped closer and brushed her hand lightly along his arm—a touch of comfort, of blessing. "She is lucky to have you."

"No," Elias said quietly. "I'm the lucky one."

Alina smiled again—faint, secretive—and slipped away into the dark, leaving only the faint echo of her presence behind.

Elias remained, standing beneath the ancient towers, until the stars blurred together in his vision.

At dawn, he would seek out the master-at-arms and beg for a place as a page.

But for now, in the still, solemn night, he lifted his face to the heavens and whispered a promise to the stars:

"I'll protect her. No matter what."