Aliena was still replaying the moment Sebastian had passed her in the corridor, his shoulder brushing the air beside her, his gaze fixed forward as though she were nothing more than stone and shadow when the palace bells rang.
They were not gentle bells.
They were the kind that announced war councils, royal decrees, and things that could not be ignored even if one desperately wished to
The sound reverberated through the walls, the floor, her bones.
Servants froze where they stood.
Conversations died mid-breath.
Then came the voice.
Clear.
Commanding.
Enchanted to reach every corner of the palace.
“Attention.
All participants and observers are to proceed to the palace grounds.
Royal training will commence shortly.”
Aliena stopped walking so abruptly that someone nearly collided with her from behind.
“Training…” she murmured.
The word alone made her stomach fold in on itself.
Training meant scrutiny.
It meant strength, speed, magic, everything she had never been praised for, everything her stepsisters had spent years reminding her she lacked.
She turned sharply and fled back toward her room, skirts gathered in her hands.
If she was going to be humiliated, she would at least do it properly dressed.
She pushed her door open and immediately halted.
Her father stood near the window, hands clasped behind his back.
Sunlight outlined his familiar silhouette, comforting and heavy all at once.
Beside him stood her stepmother, perfectly composed as always, dressed in deep violet silk that screamed refinement and quiet authority.
Lydia and Helena hovered nearby, already whispering to each other.
Hermia sat on the edge of the chair closest to the bed.
She stood the moment she saw Aliena.
“You’re back,” Hermia said, smiling softly.
“I was worried.”
That smile alone kept Aliena from turning around and running again.
“Aliena,” her father said, relief flickering across his face.
“There you are.”
“We heard the announcement,” her stepmother added smoothly.
“Training days are… important occasions.”
Lydia’s gaze flicked over Aliena’s dress.
“You’ll need to stand straighter.”
Helena sighed dramatically.
“Try not to trip in front of everyone.”
Hermia shot them a sharp look.
“She won’t.”
Aliena inhaled, steadying herself.
“We’re going together?”
“Of course,” her father said.
“Families attend.”
Aliena almost laughed.
Attend.
As if she were going to a performance instead of being measured and found lacking.
They didn’t linger.
Soon, they joined the steady stream flowing toward the palace grounds.
The moment Aliena stepped outside, her breath left her lungs.
The palace grounds stretched endlessly beneath the open sky.
Vast fields of dark green grass rippled in the wind, bordered by towering stone walls carved with ancient runes that shimmered faintly, alive with protective magic.
Massive banners bearing the royal crest snapped overhead, their shadows sweeping across the earth like wings.
Training rings dotted the grounds, some forged of black stone veined with silver, others outlined by glowing sigils hovering inches above the ground.
Weapon racks gleamed nearby, arranged with terrifying precision.
And people, so many people.
Nobles filled the raised stands, their voices buzzing with anticipation.
Guards lined the perimeter.
Trainees gathered in clusters, stretching, boasting, quietly panicking.
Aliena felt very, very small.
Hermia leaned closer.
“Breathe.”
“I am breathing,” Aliena whispered.
“It’s just not helping.”
They took their place among the gathered families.
Aliena clasped her hands together to stop them from shaking.
Then the ground trembled.
Hooves struck stone.
A hush swept through the crowd as though someone had drawn a blade across the air.
Aliena turned.
Prince Sebastian emerged from between the banners atop a massive black horse, its mane braided with silver thread, its eyes sharp and intelligent.
The animal moved like a living shadow, powerful and controlled.
Sebastian looked carved from midnight.
Dark training leathers hugged his frame, a cloak trailing behind him, armor catching the sunlight in sharp flashes.
His posture was rigid, commanding, every inch the Crown Prince of Nacrifa.
He did not acknowledge the bows.
He did not slow for the whispers.
His gaze moved with lethal intent.
Straight to her.
Aliena’s heart slammed violently.
“No,” she breathed.
Sebastian reined in his horse directly before her family.
Dust rose around them.
The horse stamped once, then stilled.
Sebastian looked down and met Aliena’s eyes.
The world narrowed.
“Mount,” he said.
The word landed like a thunderstrike.
Silence exploded outward.
Aliena stared at him.
“I—”
Her stepmother froze mid-breath.
Lydia’s jaw dropped.
Helena actually gasped.
Hermia’s eyes widened.
Her father stepped forward.
“Your Highness—”
Sebastian did not look away from Aliena.
“Now.”
Aliena’s brain ceased functioning entirely.
“You mean… me?” she asked weakly, pointing at herself like this was all a terrible misunderstanding.
Sebastian’s gaze flicked briefly to her hand, then back to her face.
“Unless you’ve brought another Aliena with you.”
Whispers rippled like wildfire.
“Did he say her name?” “Why her?” “She’s barely trained—” “Is that allowed?”
“I don’t know how,” Aliena blurted.
Sebastian exhaled slowly, then leaned forward and extended his hand.
“Put your foot here.”
His voice dropped, meant only for her.
Her necklace warmed against her skin.
Hermia nodded at her, eyes bright with encouragement.
In one smooth motion, Sebastian lifted her and settled her before him.
She gasped as her back pressed against his chest, his arm steadying her with practiced ease.
The horse surged forward.
Aliena yelped and grabbed his arm.
He did not stop her.
Behind them, chaos erupted.
Lydia looked like she might faint.
Helena looked murderous.
Hermia looked delighted.
Miles, standing at the edge of the field, pinched the bridge of his nose.
“This,” he muttered, “is going to ruin everything.”
Sebastian leaned closer, his voice low.
“Do not overthink this.”
She laughed breathlessly.
“You abducted me in front of half the kingdom.”
“Focus.”
“I am focusing on not falling off.”
The horse carried them toward the center of the grounds.
Every eye followed.
Training had begun.
And Aliena realized with horror, awe, and something dangerously close to excitement, that her life had just shifted beyond recognition.
If there was one thing Aliena was certain of as the horse carried them away from the staring crowd, it was this, she was going to die of embarrassment before anything else got the chance.
Sebastian guided the horse with effortless precision, weaving through the training grounds as though the people scattering before them were nothing more than mist.
Aliena sat stiffly in front of him, every muscle locked, hands clenched in the leather of his sleeve like it was the only thing keeping her tethered to reality.
“You can let go,” Sebastian said calmly.
“I cannot,” she replied just as calmly, because panic deserved dignity too.
“You will not fall.”
“That’s what people say right before someone falls.”
A faint huff of amusement escaped him, so brief she almost thought she imagined it.
They reached the far side of the palace grounds, where the noise dulled and the crowds thinned.
This section was quieter, bordered by tall stone pillars entwined with ivy and ancient runes.
Training equipment lay neatly arranged, bows lined up on racks, quivers full of arrows, targets embedded deep into wooden boards painted with concentric circles.
Sebastian brought the horse to a stop.
Aliena exhaled in relief.
“Down,” he said.
She hesitated.
“Slowly?”
He dismounted first, then turned and lifted her down with infuriating ease, setting her on her feet as though she weighed nothing at all.
Her knees wobbled immediately upon landing.
Sebastian raised an eyebrow.
“Are you always this unsteady?”
“I was just kidnapped by demons and publicly collected by the Crown Prince,” she snapped.
“I think I’m doing rather well.”
To her surprise, his lips twitched.
He never knew she had a sharp mouth.
He gestured toward the targets.
“This area is shielded.
No interruptions.”
She glanced around.
“You brought me here to… hide me?”
“I brought you here to train you.”
Her brain stalled.
“…Train me.”
“Yes.”
She laughed.
It burst out of her before she could stop it, short, incredulous, slightly hysterical.
“You’re joking.”
Sebastian did not laugh.
“You’re very powerful,” she said, waving a hand vaguely at him.
“You command armies.
You kill demons.
You frighten entire rooms into silence.
Surely there are…people whose job this is.”
“There are,” he agreed.
“Wonderful.
Go get them.”
“I will not.”
She stared at him.
“Why not?”
“Because I will be the one to train you.”
The words landed like an arrow to the chest.
“You?” she squeaked.
“Yes.”
“You’re the Crown Prince.”
“I’m aware.”
“You have… responsibilities.”
“I manage.”
“You barely tolerate my questions.”
“Yet here you are, still asking them.”
She opened her mouth, closed it, then tried again.
“Why me?”
Sebastian studied her for a long moment.
The breeze stirred his cloak, the sunlight catching the sharp angles of his face.
“Because you survived,” he said simply.
“That seems like a low standard.”
“Survival is not insignificant.”
She crossed her arms.
“I am not strong.”
“You are alive.”
“I am not fast.”
“You are observant.”
“I am not magical.”
His gaze flicked briefly to her necklace, then back to her eyes.
“That remains to be seen.”
Her fingers instinctively curled around the pendant.
She sighed.
“Fine.
What exactly does your Highness plan to do with me?”
Sebastian turned toward the weapon racks.
“We start with archery.”
“Of course we do.”
He selected a bow and handed it to her.
It was heavier than she expected.
“Oh,” she said.
“It’s… solid.”
“You point the sharp end away from yourself.”
She looked offended.
“I know that.”
“Good.”
Her shoulders tensed immediately.
“Feet apart,” he instructed.
“Straighten your spine.”
She did.
“No, straighter.”
“I am straight.”
“You are leaning.”
“I am breathing.”
He sighed.
“If you argue this much with the bow, it will shoot you out of spite.”
Despite herself, she snorted.
He placed an arrow in her hand.
“Nock it.”
She fumbled.
“It goes—” she gestured uncertainly.
“Here,” he said, reaching past her to guide her fingers.
His hand brushed hers.
Aliena froze.
So did the world.
Heat rushed to her face, her heart skipping painfully as his fingers adjusted her grip, firm, sure, lingering just a moment too long.
“Relax,” he murmured.
“You’re trembling.”
“That is not helping,” she whispered.
He stepped back, expression carefully blank once more.
“Draw.”
She pulled the string back with effort, arms shaking.
“Anchor,” he said.
“What?”
“Hold it near your cheek.”
She tried.
The bow wobbled violently.
“Release,” he said.
She let go.
The arrow shot forward and immediately veered sideways, embedding itself into the dirt several feet away from the target.
There was a pause.
Then another.
Aliena stared at the ground.
“I meant to do that.”
Sebastian looked at the arrow.
Then at her.
“…Why?”
“Because if I miss badly enough, no one will ask me to do it again.”
He blinked.
Then, very quietly, he laughed.
It was low, brief, and gone almost instantly, but she heard it.
Her eyes widened.
“Did you just—”
“Again,” he said firmly, handing her another arrow.
She tried again.
This time, the arrow didn’t hit the target.
It hit the wooden stand holding the target.
“Well,” she said brightly, “progress.”
Sebastian folded his arms.
“You aim like you expect the world to move out of your way.”
“I usually hope it does.”
“Focus.”
She did.
Her third shot clipped the outer ring.
Her mouth fell open.
“Did you see that?”
“I did.”
“I hit it!”
“Barely.”
“But still—!”
He took the bow from her.
“You’re anticipating failure.”
“Because it usually arrives early.”
He studied her for a moment, then stepped closer again.
“Do not think,” he said quietly.
“Feel.”
She scoffed.
“That sounds like terrible advice.”
“Trust me.”
She inhaled, nocked another arrow, and drew back.
This time, she didn’t rush.
She didn’t overthink.
She simply released.
The arrow struck the target cleanly, near the center.
Her gasp echoed through the clearing.
Sebastian’s eyes darkened, something sharp and unreadable flickering there.
“Well done,” he said.
She turned to him, beaming.
“Did you see—”
Their closeness struck her then.
How near he was.
How steady his gaze.
Her smile faltered.
The air between them thickened, charged with something unnamed and dangerous.
Sebastian stepped back abruptly.
“That is enough for today,” he said coolly.
“What?” she protested.
“I was just getting good!”
“You will stop while you are ahead.”
She frowned.
“You’re acting strange.”
His jaw tightened.
“Return to the others.”
She hesitated.
“Sebastian—”
“Go.”
She did, reluctantly.
As she walked away, she glanced back.
He stood perfectly still, fists clenched, eyes fixed on the target she had struck.
And for the first time, Aliena wondered.
Not whether she could survive training.
But whether Sebastian could survive caring.
She never knew.
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