Melissa stood a little apart from the others, her hands clenched tightly over her horse's reins as the crowd around them slowly began to thin.
Laughter and celebration still rang out all around, but none of it touched her. She glanced at Kyle, who rode ahead, his back straight, his presence composed as always.
But now that the battle was over—now that they'd returned as victors—Melissa's thoughts were a storm.
'Now's the time. Just say it.'
She swallowed hard and urged her horse closer to Kyle's. Her voice trembled slightly as she spoke.
"Young master… may I walk beside you from now on?"
The question was soft, but it echoed in her head like thunder. A former slave asking to stand beside a noble wasn't a small request.
It was the kind of question that carried weight—a declaration.
And though it took all her courage, she asked it not as a servant, but as someone who had stood through fire and blood beside him.
