SERAPHINE'S POV:
I don't know why i agreed to this.
But here i am, riding in a royal carriage, a silvered sedan chair covered with pale silk curtains, bound for the imperial training camp.
Elise sits beside me, pale-faced and curious, and i stare out at the passing pines, wondering what i'm doing in a camp where soldiers sweat and steel clashes.
I glance at Elise, managing a humorless smile.
"Do you know what we're supposed to be doing?" I ask.
She shrugs, gentle and bright-eyed, like she looks at me for instructions more than i look to Lucien.
"Only that Your Highness insisted we come here."
I turn inward.
Lucien agreed to escort us.
That's… unheard of.
When he first approached me, saying, "You'll train with the guards," I wanted to refuse. I told him i didn't need protection, I needed distance from everything that killed me, ravens, whispers, silk.
But then he suggested Elise come too, so at least i wouldn't be alone… and i relented.
Because Elise is the only one i trust quietly to do as she's told.
The camp stretches before me like a storm, rows of guards, polished wood weapons, taut banners.
I step down, smooth robes brushing the earth.
I'm supposed to train? Just watch?
Lucien's chair closes near mine.
When i look at him, his face is guarded, expression still.
But his hands are tight on the dispatch box resting in his lap. Not cloth-covered drapings like in the palace, but hardened wood. He's come fully prepared, I realize.
I keep my breath quiet.
Inside the training yard, soldiers clad in midnight-black tunics drill sword form.
The sun is high, heat shimmering as they step through strike after strike. Lucien stands quietly among them, more soldier than prince here.
Elise and i find ourselves at a stone bench near the entry.
I settle beside her, and we watch in silence.
Lucien's eyes never leave me.
Every time the soldiers shift, he glances at me, almost nervous. Like i might vanish or falter.
When the commander calls a lull, Lucien stands from the shade, crosses the sand toward us.
"Elise," he says, voice soft, "go inside the pavilion."
She hesitates.
"You'll be more comfortable there. Shade, food…"
Elise nods, disappearing behind a pillar.
He stays, standing between me and the camp's open field.
Why did i come?
He speaks as if reading my thought.
"You asked why i brought you here."
I bite the inside of my cheek.
"To protect you."
This time i looked straight at him.
"Why now?" I said aloud. "When once you ignored me."
His eyebrows shot up, a flicker of something, before he answered low: "Because these attempts… once i thought i was safe. That you were safe. But no more."
He stepped away, returning to the edge of the yard, arsenal at his belt.
They resume. Steel dances. Sweat beads.
My heart pulses in time with the wooden swords.
-
That night, first night in camp, we're told to stay in the guest tent, just Lucien, Elise, and me.
The guards at the camp entrance.
There's nowhere else for us.
First time sleeping in one tent.
First time Lucien stays close enough that i watch his silhouette shift in dim lantern light.
I lie on a low cot, sword beside me.
He takes the other one five feet away, boots off, sable cloak draped over the mattress' edge.
I can't decide whether i'm relieved or terrified.
Outside, the soldiers' campfire crackles. Banners rustle. The night is inescapable.
I hear a voice in the darkness.
"I'll take first watch," he says quietly. "You sleep."
My heart speeds.
I don't reply.
Hours pass.
I drift near sleep, listening to his breathing.
When I finally close my eyes, I stare at the chest of his sword strapped bedside and wonder why all of this changed.
Not who he is before, but who he is now.
Because my body isn't afraid. Just… unsure.
-
I woke up to the sound of rain tapping against the canvas roof.
It was faint, just a drizzle, but in the stillness of dawn, it felt like thunder.
I turned on my side and was met by the sight of Lucien sitting near the entrance flap, back straight, sword resting across his knees, hair slightly disheveled from the humidity.
He hadn't changed out of his tunic. He must've stayed up the entire night.
"You didn't sleep."
It wasn't a question.
He turned, and even in the dull grey morning light, I caught the way his eyes softened when they landed on me.
"No," he said simply.
A beat passed.
I sat up, brushing loose strands of hair away from my face.
"You're not invincible," I said. "Even you need rest."
A flicker of something passed across his face, regret, maybe. Or guilt.
"I'm not tired," he lied.
I didn't press him.
What was the point?
Elise entered moments later, her hair damp, carrying a small wooden tray with bowls of warm congee and a pot of tea.
"The guards say we'll be staying until after the next drill cycle," she said, setting the tray down. "Two nights more."
I didn't say anything.
Lucien stood, took the tea without a word, and stepped outside into the rain, cloak pulled tight.
Later that morning, Lucien walked with me and Elise through the training ground.
The soldiers gave us respectful bows, sweat still dripping from their brows as they pushed through their routines.
Lucien kept to my right, silent but close.
I kept stealing glances at him.
This wasn't the same Lucien who used to sit at state dinners and speak only when spoken to. This version of him, the one that barked orders to seasoned generals and watched me like the sky might fall if he blinked was foreign.
Or maybe… he wasn't foreign at all.
Maybe he was just someone i never got the chance to know.
Someone who kept walls so high, even I, a princess born to be his bride, was never allowed to see past them.
I stopped near the sparring grounds.
Elise had gone ahead to talk with the captain about provisions. We were alone again.
"Why now?" I asked, quietly.
He didn't pretend not to understand.
"Because i thought i had more time," he said.
He looked at the dirt under our feet as he spoke. His voice was steady, but his hands were clenched at his sides.
"I thought if i just kept you at a distance, you'd be safer. Less entangled. But then you drank the poisoned wine… and i realized how foolish i've been."
I swallowed, but the tightness in my throat didn't ease.
He took a slow breath and met my gaze.
"Every day since, I've wondered what would've happened if i hadn't been there."
"You were late," I said, not to wound—but because it was true. "I nearly died."
His jaw tensed.
"I know."
The rain had stopped, but the world still felt wet and heavy.
That evening, the sky bled orange as the sun began to sink behind the horizon.
The training camp softened with twilight, the clang of swords replaced with the low murmurs of soldiers sharing meals and laughter.
Elise was seated near the mess tent, reading a worn manuscript. Lucien and I had been given a moment alone again, intentionally, I suspected.
Everyone gave us space now, like they sensed something unspoken tightening between us.
He stood beside the riverbank at the far end of the camp, watching the water move in ripples.
I approached without announcing myself.
"You always disappear when it gets quiet," I said softly.
He didn't look at me. "I think more clearly near water."
"Afraid you'll say something you don't mean?"
"No," he said. Then he finally looked at me. "Afraid i'll say something i do."
My heart kicked inside my chest, and for a second, I forgot to breathe.
"What is it you want to say, Lucien?" I asked, voice a little too steady.
He didn't answer right away.
Then, finally, he stepped closer.
His voice was low, controlled, but not cold.
"I want to tell you i was wrong. About everything. About how i treated you. About keeping you at arm's length." He exhaled. "I want to say i regret it. All of it."
The wind tugged at my sleeve.
I stood very still.
"You don't get to fix everything with apologies," I whispered.
"I know."
A silence stretched between us, taut and fragile.
Then he added, "But maybe i can start with one."
He turned toward the tent, waiting for me to follow.
That night, the wind howled.
The camp grew colder.
And for the first time, there weren't enough blankets in the tent.
Elise, ever graceful, volunteered to sleep in the adjacent pavilion with the matron. "More space for you two," she said, pretending not to notice the tension.
Now it's just me and Lucien.
Two sleeping mats, barely three feet apart. One lantern.
He sits, legs folded under him, cloak wrapped tight.
I lie down, back turned, eyes open in the dark.
And still, even now, like clockwork, I feel him watching.