Chapter 12
?──── Serenya ? ────?
The warm breeze brushes against my skin as I lie in the middle of the wildflower field, staring up at the clouds. It feels good—soothing, even—but it does nothing to clear my aching head. The events of last night keep replaying, refusing to let me rest.
Most of my day was consumed with council meetings.
Everyone was searching for Osric. They think he fled, afraid of continuing the trials.
I didn’t correct them. I should probably feel bad for the guards they sent to search for him, but honestly, there isn’t much to do around here between trials.
So really, they should be thanking me now that they have something to do, even if it is a fool’s errand.
I didn’t tell anyone about what had happened with Osric and Koen, because then I would have to explain Dimitri’s warnings, meaning I would also have to explain that I met with him privately.
Though we are not at war anymore, our kingdoms are far from at peace with one another.
Tensions are still high. So I decided to just keep this to myself. For now, at least.
The bright side? I don’t have to worry about Dimitri’s warning that one of the contestants is part of Elowen’s court.
It was Osric. He confirmed as much last night, though I still don’t fully understand why.
Koen interrupted before Osric could finish his ramblings about his devotion to Queen Elowen—another thing I don’t understand, considering he’s human and she doesn’t allow humans in her kingdom.
As soon as I was able to slip away from the meetings unnoticed, I came here. It’s the only place that still feels like mine. Here, the air carries Kallan’s presence. I can almost hear his voice in the whisper of the wind, almost feel him beside me.
I close my eyes, and there he is again—the first time I brought him here, that smile on his face, the softness in his eyes. My chest tightens, and a tear slips free. Will the pain ever ease? Will I ever be able to breathe again without it being exhausting to take even one breath?
I had been in love with Kallan since I was eight years old.
He’s all I’ve ever known. All I’ve ever wanted to know.
I craved him like my lungs craved air. He had been pure sunlight, calming the shadows inside me in a way no one else could.
His smile made the darkest days bearable.
When I lost him, it was like losing the only good part of me.
I was plunged into a well of endless night. I’ve never truly climbed out.
However, now the emptiness isn’t the only thing inside me. Guilt has joined it, because when I’m around Koen, my heart betrays me. It races, and my thoughts focus only on him. Then Kallan’s face crashes into my mind, and the guilt burns so sharply that I can hardly breathe.
And Koen…he’s changed since the day he arrived. His sharp remarks have softened into teasing. Last night, he threw himself in front of a dagger for me. Killed for me . I tell myself anyone would have done it, but I know that’s a lie. I don’t understand him or the pull I feel around him.
I’d tried to convince Torin to take over Koen’s training again, but of course, the jerk refused. Since he trains Koen later in the day, he insists I keep the mornings, even though it is supposed to be his job. He won’t double up just because I want to avoid the man.
I sigh. My shadows curl lazily around the flowers, unconcerned with the sunlight.
My thoughts drift to Dimitri next. He hasn’t tried to reach out to me since I told him I wanted no part in his schemes. Still, I know him too well. He won’t give up that easily. He never has. The thought of seeing him again twists my stomach.
The fact that I miss him, even knowing that I shouldn’t, brings more guilt.
But Dimitri was like a brother to me. Different from Torin, but no less important.
Torin and I became close after we lost Kallan.
Dimitri and I had been bound together since childhood, since birth.
That day, twenty-eight years ago, it didn't just take the male I loved. It ripped away my closest friend.
Some pains never fade. I often think about how it would’ve been easier if I had died alongside Kallan. However, the gods don’t grant mercies like that. They left me alive to carry the image of his death burned into me forever—his blood on my hands, his last breath in my arms.
I don’t realize how hard I’m crying until hot tears streak down my cheeks, falling onto the grass. I allow myself to break for a few more minutes before forcing the grief back down, standing, and brushing off my dress. Dinner awaits. I’ll be glad when these cursed nightly meals are finished.
I pull my shadows close as I walk back through the gardens.
My steps falter when I reach the fountain.
Memories hit me like a blade. The fury burning in Koen’s eyes, the way he stepped into the dagger’s path without hesitation, the raw power thrumming through him when he struck Osric.
How the glow of his magic lit his body and— gods help me —how devastatingly beautiful he looked in that moment.
My heart stutters, and I shove the thoughts away as I head to the dining hall.
By the time I enter the palace, the sun is setting, gilding the halls in gold. The guards bow and push open the doors to the great hall. As always, the men rise when I step inside. Four pairs of eyes follow me as I walk to the head of the table. I sit. They follow.
“Good evening, Princess,” Lioran greets me with his easy grin.
“Evening, Lioran.” I force a smile, praying it looks real.
I turn to the others. “Asbel. Aren.” A pause, then softer, “…Koen.” The same smile is plastered on my lips.
Asbel bows his head slightly. “Princess.”
Aren offers a polite, “Good evening.”
Koen only nods before reaching for his wine. His silence is unusual, but I say nothing.
The first course is served, the smell of roasted pheasant and herbs filling the air.
“So,” Lioran begins, “word has it you startled the new kitchen staff this morning, Princess. Walked in unannounced, I’m told.”
I spear a carrot with my fork. “Is that what passes for gossip now?”
“Just merely the tale of a poor cook who nearly keeled over when she saw you.” His grin is unrepentant.
Asbel chuckles quietly. Even Aren smiles.
“I wanted tea,” I say simply, taking a sip of wine.
“Ah, but royalty fetching their own tea? A scandal,” Lioran replies with mock gravity.
I shake my head, fighting a smirk. “I think she’ll survive the shock of my presence.”
Conversation flows more easily after that. Lioran tells a dramatic story about nearly falling into Lake Ilareth on his way here. Aren admits, reluctantly, to being hopeless at archery as a boy. Even Asbel joins in, sharing a tale of training mishaps that earns laughter from the others.
Only Koen stays quiet. He listens, eyes shadowed, his movements measured. He eats steadily, drinks sparingly, and never once joins the conversation. I catch myself glancing at him more than once, trying to figure out why he’s distant.
When the plates are cleared and the meal ends, I slip away.
Instead of going to my chambers to sleep, I change, throw on a cloak, and leave through the door.
Most times, I will sneak out from the balcony.
However, tonight it’s Torin’s turn to stand guard at my chambers, and he always abandons that post. Convenient for me.
As long as I’m careful, no guard will stop me.
I tug my hood lower over my brow, my footsteps soft against the stone as I slip through a rarely used side corridor.
The guards are changing shifts. I made sure to time it perfectly.
All I need is ten minutes to reach the lower gate, and then I can disappear into the city for a little while.
I need to get away from the palace and the people in it. I need air . Space. Quiet...and sweets.
I’m nearly to the lower gate when a voice behind me nearly makes me jump.
“Your Highness.”
I turn, my hand brushing the hilt of my dagger, but relax when I see Lioran leaning casually against a tree in a white tunic and black pants, arms crossed, a teasing smile playing on his lips.
“Are you sneaking out of your own palace?” he asks, clearly amused.
I sigh and narrow my eyes. “Are you following me?”
He lifts a brow. “Would you be flattered or alarmed if I said yes?”
I study him. It might be fun to bring him. He actually treats me like a person. A person he delights in annoying, but a person nonetheless.
So I grin and ask, “Do you like chocolate?”
He blinks, caught off guard. “I—what? Obviously. Yes. Why?”
“There’s a little shop in the city. Hard to find. Best candy in all of Syltheriel. I swear it.” I start walking again, then call over my shoulder, “Coming or not?”
I know I should be more careful about whom I choose to trust after Osric tried to kill me . However, I can’t find it in myself to care tonight.
He catches up instantly. “You had me at chocolate .”
The city streets buzz with fading light and the clamor of merchants packing up. I move fast, my cloak swishing around my ankles, my eyes alert. When we reach the curved little alleyway lined with flower boxes and lanterns, my face lights up.
“This is it,” I whisper.
The shop sits tucked into a bend in the alley, a crooked wooden sign dangling: “The Sweetest Sin.”
Lioran chuckles. “Are you sure we’re not walking into a brothel?”
I elbow him. “Shut up and follow me.”
The little bell above the door jingles, and a wave of warm, sugary air hits me. The place smells of cinnamon, roasted almonds, and fresh dark chocolate.
A small woman with wild silver curls stands behind the counter, eyes wide when she looks up. “Oh, stars above. Princess Serenya?”
I pull back my hood, smiling. “It’s been too long, Maeli.”
She smiles warmly. “You brought a friend.” She glances at Lioran. “Or a bodyguard?”
“ Bit of both,” I say. “He has strong opinions about sweets.”
Lioran leans over a tray of confections. “This smells illegal.”
“You haven’t lived until you’ve tried her sea salt vanilla caramels,” I say, pointing.
Lioran immediately reaches for one, plopping it into his mouth. “Is this—oh, gods.” His knees actually bend slightly. “This should be a controlled substance.”
Maeli beams. “I’ll box up a few dozen.”
“Wait!” Lioran protests. “I haven’t finished my tour.”
We wander around the shop like curious children, pointing, tasting, and arguing. I insist the cherry bonbons are superior. Lioran calls them “ syrupy poison” and tries to swap my box for his hazelnut bark.
He tries a glittering golden candy and yelps. “This one bit me back! ”
“It’s spiced with fireroot,” I say with a laugh. “Didn’t you read the label?”
“ There are labels? ”
Next comes the cloud pops that explode into pink smoke in your mouth. I have two. Lioran has five. He looks drunk on sugar by the end of it.
“Okay,” he says, “if I die in the next hour, tell the council it was worth it.”
We are giggling like misbehaving children when we step back out into the street. I haven’t laughed this much in months. Maybe years. Gods, I needed this. I’m glad Lioran’s the one who found me. He was the perfect person to help get my mind off things.
We creep through the palace’s rear garden entrance, dodging moonlight, our arms full of treats. Lioran is humming some ridiculous tune under his breath, I am mid-snort from his story about nearly choking on powdered sugar—
“Really?”
We freeze.
Torin stands at the end of the path, arms folded. And, because they are apparently always together, standing beside him is Koen. Cloak half open. Expression set like stone.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Koen says. Yeah, that’s exactly how I feel. “Is this what passes for royal protocol now?”
I clear my throat and pull back my hood. “We went to get chocolate.”
“You were gone for over two hours,” Torin says. “Without a word. What if something happened?”
“Then Lioran would’ve fought them off with candy canes,” I say, grinning.
Lioran just nods cheerfully, making me giggle.
Koen steps forward, eyes narrowing on my box of sweets. “You left the palace. During highly political trials. For candy. ” I mentally roll my eyes. I’m not sure why he’s pretending that he cares. He didn’t even choose to be here.
“It’s excellent candy. And we are between trials, so it’s fine,” I reply, waving him off.
Koen mutters something under his breath.
I give him a sugary smile. “Want one?”
He looks at the offered treat like it might be poisoned. “No.”
Lioran nudges him. “You sure? I think it would help with the whole...” He gestures vaguely at Koen’s entire face. “Grumpy forest troll thing you’ve got going on.”
I erupt into laughter, unable to hold it back, and snap my fingers. “Yes! Grumpy forest troll! That’s exactly what he reminds me of!”
Okay, maybe I’ve had too much sugar.
Koen turns slowly. “You’ve got chocolate on your cloak, Princess.”
“It’s part of the outfit.” I shrug.
Torin sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Just…tell someone next time. Please.”
I huff. “Alright.” Though I’m tempted to point out that if he was standing guard outside my chambers— like he was supposed to be —then he would have already known where I was.
As we walk back toward the palace, I slow slightly, falling in step with Koen. I don’t say anything, just pass him a small wrapped caramel and keep walking.
When I glance back, he is still staring at it. Then, while grumbling, he slowly slips it into his pocket, making me grin.