The polished hallways echoed with the swift rhythm of her boots as she moved with purpose, weaving past courtiers and servants, sunlight streamed through the arched windows, illuminating the trail of her overskirt that danced with each step. Beneath it, fitted trousers offered freedom of movement - an unusual choice for a soon- to- be- lady of the court.
Her hair was tied back in a high ponytail.
Just as she turned into a corner, her shoulder collided into someone.
She stumbled back slightly, her hand instinctively moving towards the small dagger she always carried with her, and then she froze.
The king.
He stood tall, flanked by several ministers, all of whom fell silent at the sudden encounter.
Her breathe caught as their eyes locked. His gaze swept over her quickly - taking in the trouser, the trailing overskirt, the poised tension in her posture. Something in his expression flickered, unreadable.
"Your majesty" she said bowing slightly.
" You are in a hurry" he said, his eyes not leaving her.
" I was heading to the courtyard," she replied. "The guards are beginning a new round of training today. "
Maltherion's jaw tightened, " to observe, I hope."
She straightened, "actually..."
" No" he interrupted, " you won't be joining them today."
She blinked, "but I.."
" Not this time." He said, loud enough for the ministers to hear, but his tone was directed solely to her. "The courtyard will be crowded. You don't need to be in the middle of a sword play "
Her brows lifted, " I can handle myself "
"I don't doubt that. You were one fo the best trainee in the female recruit back then. But that was a long time ago." He replied, his gaze softening just slightly. "But I won't have you injured. Not when it can be avoided."
For a moment, the hallway stood still, tension crackling in the air.
Then she dipped her head,.her voice calm. "As you say, Your Majesty."
But the fire in her eyes hadn't dimmed. Not one bit.
And Maltherion, as he walked past her with his ministers, knew very well that she wasn't going to listen.
The clang of steel echoed across the courtyard as Xandria moved effortlessly through the sparing session. Her stance was confident, precise and a bit showy - enough to draw attention.
From the upper steps, Maltherion entered with his ministers, his gaze narrowing the moment he spotted her among the trainees.
He descended swiftly, his deep voice cutting through the courtyard like a blade. "What exactly do you think you are doing?"
She didn't stop. She blocked a strike, spun , then finally turned towards him with a smirk tugging at her lips. "Practicing Your Majesty. Or is that forbidden now?"
One of the ministers coughed discreetly into his hands. Another shifted, clearly uncomfortable.
Maltherion came closer, arms crossed tightly over his chest. "You weren't suppose to be part of the session. You were told to observe."
" I did observe." She said innocently. "Then i saw a few sloppy footings and thought, 'why not help?'. I'm being patriotic"
The guards chuckled under their breath, only to be silenced by the king's sharp glance.
"This isn't a game." He said, his voice low but firm.
" You shouldn't be out here. It's not your place."
She raised her brow, " not my place? I can hold my ground better than half of the men in this field."
" That's not the point." He replied. His voice rising slightly. "What if someone injures you?"
She took a step closer. Eyes locked with him. "Then I'll get back up Your Majesty. I don't need coddling.
His jaw tensed, clearly fighting between frustration and something else.
"Stubborn." He muttered
"Observant." She shot back.
The minister watched the exchange like spectators in a match, caught somewhere between scandalized and fascinated.
"You are not going to listen to me, are you?"
The king asked, sounding almost defeated.
"Not if you are wrong." She said, turning back towards the sparing session with a wink over her shoulder. "Which you are this time."
The king sighed, watching her take up position again - fire in her eyes, a blade in her hand, and the grand Gias thrumming throught his chest like it knew something he didn't dare to admit yet.
As she dove back into her sparing sessions, the king remained still, watching her every movement with a storm behind his eyes. The ministers hesistated nearby, exchanging uncertain glances, before one of them - minister Cael - the eldest - finally cleared his throat.
"A spirited young woman, sire." He offered cautiously.
The king didn't reply.
Another younger minister leaned in. "With all due respect. Your Majesty, she does seem....willful. Perhaps too much so."
" She's skilled." Cael said thoughtfully. " But i understand your concerns. Its not just her safety. If word spreads that she defies royal instruction so openly...."
" She didn't defy the crown," the king interrupted, his eyes still on her. " She defied me. There is a difference."
The ministers fell silent.
Then minister Cael, ever brave, said. "You could forbid her outright."
"I could" the king said quietly. " But she will still do exactly as she pleased."
A pause.
" And truthfully?" He exhaled slowly, the tension easing from his shoulders. "I don't want to forbid her."
The ministers exchanged wide-eyed looks as the king turned away, motioning them back towards the palace. But his eyes lingered on her one last time before he finally followed.
Later that evening....
The courtyard was quiet now, bathed in silver moonlight. Xandria sat alone on a bench near the sparring ring, toweling sweat from her brows. Her ponytail had loosened,strands of hair falling against her face.
She heard him before she saw him. Those familiar footsteps. She didn't turn.
"You're still upset?" He asked, his voice softer now, stripped of the authority it carried before.
"No" she replied. -You are just frustrating."
Maltherion chuckled, "you defy me in front of half the court, and I'm the frustrating one?"
" You wanted me to stand and watch like a painted doll," she finally looked up. " You know I can't."
He sat beside her without asking, close but not quite touching. The silence between them stretched, filled with the cries of distant cricket and the beating wings of night birds.
"You scared me" he said after a long pause.
She blinked. "how?"
"Because every time you fight, Everytime you try to get yourself hurt, I feel the Gias tighten. I feel it pulling me towards you - and I can't protect you from what it means.
Her eyes softened. "You're not supposed to protect me from who i am."
He looked at her then, he truly looked at her. "I'm not sure I can protect myself from who you are either."
Their eyes locked, and the air between them thickened - tense, uncertain, electric. No crown, no title, no audience. Just the two of them, tangled in something ancient and unavoidable.