The Fallen Princess

Twenty Five

Callen and Zaria had remained awake until the late hours, trading warmth, whispered confessions, and breath until sleep finally stole over them without warning. Dawn had barely brushed the sky when heavy, insistent pounding rattled the office door.

For a moment, Callen didn’t move. His arm was numb beneath Zaria’s cheek, her breath warm against his skin; her fingers curled lightly into the fabric of his shirt as though afraid he might slip away. He wanted to stay like that, just one more minute, but the pounding grew louder.

He grimaced, carefully lifting her head from his arm. Zaria murmured softly, a small sound of protest, but didn’t wake as he slipped away and crossed the room. The pounding persisted, steady and obnoxious, until Callen yanked open the door.

Christian stood there wearing a wicked, triumphant grin. “You look terrible, brother.” He tried to slip inside, but Callen planted a forearm across the doorway, blocking him. Christian leaned sideways, peering past his brother with exaggerated curiosity.

Papers littered the floor. Books were knocked over. The desk, usually immaculate, looked as though a cyclone had spun directly through it. “I’ve never tried it on a desk before,” Christian observed thoughtfully. “But judging by the height, it must be-”

Callen slammed the door, but Christian wedged his boot into the gap. “What do you want?” Callen snarled, already exhausted. “To come in. And you should know by now, I don’t drag myself anywhere this early without reason.”

“Hold on,” Callen muttered, shutting the door long enough to gather his wits. “Zaria,” he said gently. She stirred immediately, voice thick with sleep. “Callen?” “My brother’s here.”

Yesterday’s chaos; fear, confessions, love, crashed back into her mind. She shot upright, clutching Callen’s uniform jacket tightly to her chest. “I-” she began, but words failed her.

“Here.” Callen grabbed the trousers Zakai had gotten her and tossed them over to her.

“Your shirt is…” He lifted books and notes, scattering documents everywhere, but it was nowhere in sight. “Well… I don’t know where your shirt is.” Zaria laughed despite the panic fluttering in her stomach.

She stepped into the trousers, but her arms tangled in the long sleeves of Callen’s jacket. With an exasperated huff, she shrugged it off, leaving her bare skin exposed to the morning light.

Callen froze. His eyes darkened at once, molten gold swelling with desire so swift and intense it stole her breath. He crossed the room in two strides, his hands framed her jaw with reverent firmness as his lips molded to hers deepening, coaxing, savoring her.

Zaria melted instantly, her fingers curling into his hair, pulling him closer with a soft, helpless sound. Callen’s thumb brushed the corner of her mouth, tilting her into a deeper angle as the kiss grew heavier, longer... his lips moving with a deep, controlled passion that sent heat spiraling through her.

When he finally drew back for breath, he rested his forehead against hers, their noses brushing. Her pulse thrummed wildly. His wasn’t much steadier. “I thought you said your brother was here,” she whispered against his lips.

“He is,” he muttered, reluctant. He peeled off his thin undershirt and pulled it over her head. It hung down to mid-thigh. She laughed softly, gathering the hem between her fingers. “Put the jacket on too,” Callen ordered, already irritated that reality was intruding. Once she was covered, he opened the door fully.

“Well, well, it’s a very good morning, isn’t it, Princess?” Christian greeted, grinning like a fox who had found the henhouse door wide open. “Don’t talk to her,” Callen snapped, dragging Zaria straight into his lap before settling at the desk.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” Christian replied breezily, dropping into a nearby chair. He plucked a golden pen off the floor and set it neatly atop the desk, smirking knowingly at Zaria.

She turned her head to hide the flush warming her cheeks.

“What do you want?” Callen asked, all patience evaporated. Christian leaned back leisurely. “Good news: the elves arrived ahead of schedule.” “How is that good news?” “It isn’t... for you. But it seems to be very good news for Lord River, who is quite eager to meet his new bride.”

Zaria froze. “ ...bride?” she echoed, voice fragile. Christian looked at Callen. “You didn’t tell her.” “There wasn’t time,” Callen muttered. Christian grinned like a cat with cream. “Oh, I bet there wasn’t.” “Do not look at me like that,” Callen growled, knowing exactly what his brother was implying.

“What did you say his name was?” Zaria whispered, her throat tight. “Lord River,” Christian repeated. Her heart seemed to drop through her body. “I need to see my brother.” She tried to rise, but Callen’s arms locked around her waist.

“I’ll send for him,” he murmured, smoothing a hand through her hair. “For now… breathe.” Christian watched them both, confusion stitching across his face. “Am I missing something?” Zaria shook her head quickly... too quickly.

“Is that all?” Callen asked. Christian hesitated. “Unfortunately, no. Father wants to see you. Now.” Callen’s jaw clenched. The air grew heavier. “Why?” “I can’t confirm yet,” Christian said, expression tightening. “But rumor has it one of your maids has been reporting to Juliana. And it seems word has reached Father that you never returned to your chambers last night… both of you.”

Callen pressed his fingers to his temple. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Christian sighed. “Because I verify information before bringing you nonsense. Half the castle gossips out of boredom. If I came running every time someone whispered your name, I’d get nothing done.”

Callen exhaled, shoulders loosening slightly. “Thank you, Christian. Truly. You’re a good brother.” Christian softened, just barely. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Yes,” Callen muttered. “Succeed Father, retract the proposal, and send the elves home. Christian snorted. “Not the time, brother. But I can hide her. Somewhere Father will never find.” Callen tensed. He knew exactly where Christian meant:

The ocean fortress. Beautiful. Remote. Protected. A paradise… and a cage. Zakai swallowed. He knew she would be safe there, but he also knew she would refuse to be tucked away like a secret, living only to wait.

“I promise to wait for you,” she whispered. “As long as it takes. But please… don’t put me somewhere where waiting is the only thing I’m allowed to do.” Her eyes met his... pleading, raw, streaked with fear she wouldn’t voice. Callen closed his eyes briefly. “Zaria…”

Christian stepped forward, his teasing gone. “What if it’s a beautiful castle by the sea?” he offered lightly. “Even a gilded cage,” Zaria murmured, “is still a cage.” Christian nodded once. He understood perfectly.

“I’ll take my leave,” he said, rising. “My offer still stands. And Callen…” He paused at the door, smirk returning. “I told you she would stay.” The door shut behind him. Silence lingered like smoke.

Callen bowed his head against Zaria’s shoulder, defeated in a way she’d never seen. She touched his jaw gently, coaxing him to lift his face. “His name…” he whispered. “It’s not a coincidence, is it?” Zaria wrapped her arms around him and pressed her cheek to his hair. She couldn’t answer. Not yet.