The Fallen Princess

Twenty Three

“What would you like to do? I’ve been given permission to take you wherever you like.” Zakai paused, then added dryly, “Within the Knights’ Annex. Prince Callen made that part very clear.”

Zaria laughed, walking backward in front of him, skirts swishing.

“Can we ride horses?” she asked, voice bright with hope. “I suppose we could,” he said, eyeing her dress, “but you’re not exactly dressed for it.”

Zaria glanced down at the layered skirt and long sleeves. “There’s so much fabric on the dresses here,” she mused. “I suppose it’s because of the colder weather. I’ll borrow some clothes from the knightage then. I’ve done it once before. I’m sure Callen won’t mind.”

“Callen…?” Zakai repeated, catching the way she dropped the title. The way she said his name. Zaria’s smile faltered. “Zaria,” he sighed, “I warned you not to get close to him. And it seems you completely ignored me.”

“I…” She had nothing. She had gotten close. Far too close. But she couldn’t seem to command her heart the way she wanted. “Listen to me.” Zakai caught her arm and tugged her to a stop so she faced him.

“I gave him my first night,” she blurted, louder than she intended. The words hung there between them. Zakai stared for a long, silent moment, then released a frustrated breath. “No matter,” he said at last, forcing his voice to stay level. “It means nothing. That sort of thing… happens.” He tried to make light of it.

“It means something to me,” she snapped, hurt flaring sharp and fast. Zakai’s jaw tightened. “Zaria, I’ve heard from the men here... he’s already engaged to be married.” “I know.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “But it’s political and-” “An engagement is an engagement.” The words came out harsher than he intended. He glanced around to make sure no one was listening.

“I can’t undo what’s been done.” She looked up at him, eyes aching. “I love him, brother. And I don’t know how to unlove him. Believe me… these last few days, I’ve been trying. Desperately.” Zakai didn’t look convinced, but he gave a single, reluctant nod.

“Don’t leave me in this world alone because of your grief over some man,” he said quietly, his voice weighted with concern. “No one actually dies from a broken heart,” she countered, though the tremor in her voice softened the words.

Zakai’s fingers tightened lightly on her arm. “He is going to leave you, Zaria. And when he does, your bright spirit will be crushed. So please… promise me. No more.” She winced. “I can’t promise that,” she admitted, guilt spilling over her features. He let her go with a weary exhale.

“What can I do to change your mind?” “I’m afraid there’s nothing you can do,” she said, a shaky laugh escaping. “There’s nothing I can do.” Zakai sighed again, resigned.

“You, sister, are a pain in my ass.” His tone softened, the edges rounded with affection despite his frustration. “And yet,” she teased, eyes glinting, “you still care.” “Unfortunately.” His mouth twitched. “All right. Let’s head to the post exchange, get you something decent to wear. Then we’ll go to the stables.”

“Have I ever told you how much I love pants?” she asked, grinning as they fell into step side by side. “No, and I don’t particularly care,” he said flatly.

Zaria nudged her shoulder into his. “Always so brooding. You should let a little light into that gloom every once in a while.” “I think you’re bright enough for the both of us,” he said, shooting her a sideways look that was half fond, half exasperated. She only lifted a shoulder in an easy shrug, as if accepting the compliment and dismissing it all at once.

They reached the post exchange, a long stone building stocked with neatly folded uniforms and basic supplies. A few knights glanced up curiously as Zakai requested a spare set. Within minutes, Zaria stood behind a screen, wriggling into borrowed trousers and a simple tunic.

“How do I look?” she asked, stepping out and spreading her arms. “Like trouble,” Zakai said. “Which is to say, exactly like yourself.”

They crossed the training yard to the stables. The scent of hay, leather, and warm horse filled the air. Stable hands moved efficiently between stalls, grooming, feeding, and saddling mounts. Zakai chose a steady, dark bay mare for Zaria and a taller gelding for himself.

He boosted her easily into the saddle. She settled her feet into the stirrups, a grin spreading across her face. “Oh, I’ve missed this.” They started at a gentle walk, circling the paddock, letting the horses warm up. Then Zakai nudged his mount into a canter.

“Keep up,” he called over his shoulder. Zaria’s mare surged forward. Wind tugged at her hair, cool air stinging her cheeks in the best possible way. For the first time in days, her worries loosened their grip. She leaned into the rhythm of the horse’s gait, every stride a small burst of freedom.

After cooling the horses, they dismounted by the practice grounds, where several target butts and training dummies had been set up. A rack of practice bows and blunted arrows leaned against a fencepost. Zakai followed her gaze. “Do you want to shoot?” She nodded eagerly.

He handed her a bow and a quiver, watching the way she checked the string, tested the weight. Zaria stepped to the line, drew an arrow, and exhaled slowly as she took aim. The arrow flew, thudding into the soft earth below the target.

“Not bad, for someone who’s been locked in a tower.” Zakai teased. She rolled her eyes and loosed another arrow. This one clipped the target's edge. By the fourth shot, she was at least in the rings, all be it the outer ones.

A few nearby knights paused to watch. Zakai’s mouth twitched. “You’re drawing attention,” he warned. She smiled, eyes narrowing with playful concentration. “I’m probably the most beautiful man they’ve ever seen, besides you of course.” A soft laugh slipped from her, clearly amused with herself.

For a few precious hours, they were just siblings again. No kings, no dragons, no schemes. Just Zaria and Zakai. All too soon, the sun dipped low over the mountains, painting the sky in warm gold and violet.

The air cooled, and the shadows stretched long across the grounds. Zakai walked her back toward Callen’s office, the weight of the day settling into a comfortable hush. Zaria’s muscles ached pleasantly; her mind, for once, felt quiet.

“I’ve been thinking,” Zakai said at last, hesitating. “Since you and the prince are so… close.” The word tasted sour. “You should ask him to release you.” “And go where?” Zaria asked honestly. “We have no home anymore. No coin.”

“I haven’t thought that far ahead,” Zakai admitted. “But perhaps we could settle here in these lands, outside the palace. Or go to the Western Isles... elven lands. I heard a convoy is due to arrive any day now.” His thoughts spilled out unpolished but sincere.

“Do you really think they’d just let us go?” “I don’t need them to let me go,” he said quietly. “I’m not the one with a title. You are.” His eyes flicked to her, full of worry. “I could make a living. As a sell sword. Or stay here as a knight. His Highness already offered me a position.”

Zaria shook her head slowly. “I could ask, and he might agree… but you should know his fiancée already tried to have me killed once. That’s why he’s been keeping me away.”

Zakai stopped walking. “Why are you just telling me this now?” he snapped. “It never came up,” she said weakly. It truly had slipped her mind beneath everything else. “By the Gods, Zaria, how does something like that just slip your mind?” She gave a helpless little shrug.

“Perhaps Prince Callen will allow me to stay by your side now that there’s a threat to your life,” Zakai said, anger fading into grim resolve. “I could ask,” Zaria murmured, hope sparking in her chest. “And your dreams…” Zakai lowered his voice, checking their surroundings. “Have you had any more?”

“No,” she answered, “but I’ve had the one with the river twice since arriving. I don’t understand what it means. If only Mother were here…” Her voice trailed off. Zakai’s gaze softened. He often wished the same. He took her hand and squeezed gently.

“We’ll be all right,” he said, as much to himself as to her. She nodded. “We’re here,” he added when they reached the prince’s office. Zaria wrapped him in a tight, lingering hug. “I’ll see you soon,” she promised. “I’ll do what I can to bring us back together.”

“Princess.” Callen’s voice carried from the doorway. Zaria turned. He stood there, watching her, eyes flicking briefly over her borrowed clothes. “I was just coming to find you,” he said, gaze sliding to Zakai.

He cleared his throat. “About earlier… I never intended to make your sister cry.” Zakai was caught off guard. The Prince of Dragons, trying to explain himself to a mere subordinate. Perhaps, he thought, the man truly did feel something for his sister.

“Your Highness,” Zakai said, gathering his courage. “I hope you don’t find me impertinent for this, but… may I speak with you?” Zaria blinked in surprise. Her brother was rarely so bold with anyone of higher rank.

“I have time now,” Callen replied, pushing the heavy door open wider. “Come in.” The two elves entered and sat only after Callen had settled behind his desk. “How can I help you?” the prince asked.

Zakai inhaled slowly. “I have two requests, Your Highness.” His voice stayed steady despite the nerves buzzing beneath his skin. “First: please permit me to watch over my sister. With there being a threat to her life, I feel I would be best suited to remain by her side.”

Callen watched him, his expression unreadable. “And second?” he prompted. “After the threat diminishes,” Zakai continued carefully, “I request that you have my sister stripped of her title, so that I can take responsibility for her… and we can live as ordinary citizens. Here in this land, or abroad.”

Silence fell, heavy and uncomfortable. Callen’s first instinct was irritation. At Zakai’s boldness, at the thought of Zaria living beyond his reach. But beneath that, reality settled like a stone in his gut: this could work in his favor. He could move her somewhere safer. Beyond his father’s schemes. Beyond Juliana’s reach. At least, for a time.

He leaned back, thinking. “I’ll arrange for you to stand guard over your sister,” he said at last. “And I will provide compensation for your services.” “That’s not necessary, Your Highness,” Zakai replied quickly, grateful but not wanting to exploit his generosity.

“The princess is under my direct supervision,” Callen said, tone brooking no argument. “I pay all my subordinates fairly. That now includes you. Compensation is non-negotiable.” He paused, leaning forward, fingers tapping lightly on the desk before he spoke again.

“As for your second and very bold request…” His eyes slid to Zaria. “I can’t give you an answer now. But I’ll take time to consider it.” It wasn’t the yes Zakai wanted. But it wasn’t the no either of them had braced for.

Zaria gave her brother a small, hopeful smile. Her own heart was tangled, unsure what to feel. Relief. Fear. A strange, aching gratitude.

“Return to the barracks for now,” Callen said, looking at Zakai. “Pack up your things.” “See you soon, sister,” Zakai murmured. He bent to kiss the top of her head, then took his leave.

When the door closed, Zaria exhaled slowly. “Am I being sent back to my room now?” she asked, disheartened by the prospect.

“Not for a while,” Callen said, shuffling some papers as if they actually held his attention. “For now, you’ll be here with me.” He finally looked up, eyes steady on hers. “We have some things I wish to discuss.”