The Fallen Princess

Thirty Eight

“Zaria, it’s time to go,” Zakai called from the hallway, his knuckles tapping the door with more insistence than usual. “I’m not feeling well,” she replied, her voice thin and frayed with exhaustion.

A moment later the door opened anyway. Zakai stepped inside, shutting it softly behind him before crossing the room. “You haven’t left your room all morning,” he said, his tone gentle but edged with concern. He took in the sight of her, still in her robe, curled near the headboard like she was trying to disappear.

Zaria let out a long, defeated sigh. “I just… I’m not well,” she murmured, avoiding his gaze and pulling her robe tighter around her frame. Zakai lowered himself to a kneel in front of her, resting his forearms on his thighs so he could meet her eyes.

“You promised me you wouldn’t do this,” he reminded softly, studying her face for the cracks she hid from everyone else. “I’m not doing anything,” she insisted, folding her arms across her stomach like a shield. “And I promised River I’d help Fay with Sophie and Ava while he’s gone.”

She shifted on the edge of the bed, refusing to look directly at him. “If Lord River wanted you here,” Zakai said, his brow lifting, “he wouldn’t have allowed me to take you to the beach house. Your excuses aren’t very good today.” Her shoulders sagged.

“I don’t want to stay in that house…” she whispered, the words slipping out before she could pull them back. Zakai exhaled in quiet relief. There it was. The real wound. “It’s just a house, Zaria,” he said gently.

“It’s just a house to you,” she corrected, her voice small. “But to me… every time we stay there, I hope he comes. I lie awake waiting for wings I never hear.” Her eyes fell to her hands, fingers twisting helplessly.

Zakai reached out and set a steady hand on her knee. “If you’re miserable after the first hour, I’ll bring you back myself. That’s my word.” Zaria searched his face, then gave a reluctant nod. “Alright.”

She swung her legs over the side of the bed, slowly pushing herself upright. “But I want to ride my horse,” she added stubbornly as she stood. Zakai groaned. “You know I can’t let you do that.”

She stared at him a beat, then climbed right back onto the mattress, crossing her arms. “Then I’m not going. I hate being carted around like I’m someone’s luggage.”

He pressed a hand to his temple. “You know what? Fine. Ride the damn horse. Fall off it, get trampled, do whatever you want. Just get dressed so we can leave.” He strode out and slammed the door.

A heartbeat later, the door cracked open again. “Also, hurry up.” “Hurry up,” she repeated under her breath, mocking him as she dragged herself to the armoire.

It took her a bit of effort to scramble onto Apollo’s back, enough to make Zakai chuckle. She shot him a withering glare, which only made him laugh harder. Once she was finally settled, they started down the road at an easy pace.

“You were right the other day, brother,” Zaria said as she urged her horse into a gentle trot. “Right about what exactly? I’m right about so many things,” he replied dryly. She rolled her eyes but pushed on. “I am falling for River… but it isn’t a fire that burns through my soul like the love I have for Callen. It’s… softer. A gentle feeling.”

Zakai glanced over at her, really looked at her, and offered a small, reassuring smile. It told her everything: that he understood, that he wasn’t judging, that her heart was allowed to be complicated.

She took a steadying breath and nudged the topic away from herself. “So… you and Fay…?” “Don’t start,” Zakai muttered immediately, already bracing for it. “Are you two serious?” He exhaled sharply. “Even if we were, it wouldn’t last,” he said, and there was a thin thread of hurt beneath the words.

“It’s already been half a year. We’ll be leaving the Isles soon enough, and it’s not as if I can tell her.” Zaria’s heart dipped. She hadn’t realized how deeply her own circumstances had tangled into his life... had limited him.“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “There’s nothing to be sorry for,” he replied quietly. “It is what it is.”

For a while, neither of them spoke. Their horses kept the rhythm for them, the steady clop of hooves on the brick road easing into a muted thud as the stones ended and the sandy path toward the beach house began.

Zakai helped Zaria down from her horse when they arrived at the small yellow beach house. The breeze off the coast fluttered her hair as she landed lightly on the sand. She hesitated, dread gathering in her chest, then turned to Apollo’s tack as if the metal buckles could delay her entry into the house.

“You’re not supposed to lift this,” Zakai said, reaching to unbuckle the saddle before she could tug it free. “I’m not broken,” she muttered, tugging the blanket down with sharper movements than necessary. “I can do this much.”

“You’re carrying a child,” he began, stepping in again. “Let me do this mu-” Another voice cut her off. “You’re carrying my child.” Zaria stilled completely. Callen. His presence hit her like a warm gust of wind.

He reached around her, gently sliding the saddle blanket from her arms with a careful touch, as if afraid the moment might shatter. Zaria’s breath trembled. Tears stung her eyes before she could swallow them back. “You never came,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “You said you’d come, and you lied.”

“I said I would try,” Callen murmured, regret heavy in each word. His hand brushed her arm, steady and penitent. “I didn’t succeed.” Her lips parted in a trembling breath as he set the blanket aside. The moment he wrapped his arms around her, Zaria broke.

She pressed her face against his chest, gripping the fabric at his back to anchor herself. “I’m sorry,” Callen whispered into her hair. He pressed a lingering kiss to the crown of her head, his voice warm and aching. “I’m so sorry. I thought of you every moment.”

“Well, I didn’t think about you at all,” she muttered into him, the lie thin and shaky. His low chuckle vibrated against her cheek. Relief softened his whole posture, his arms tightening around her as though he could hold back time itself.

When she finally pulled away, her breath came unsteady. “I couldn’t breathe,” she admitted quietly, wiping her cheeks. Her hand drifted to her belly, resting there protectively as it often did now.

Callen sank to one knee, his expression softening into awe. He placed both hands reverently on her stomach. “Hello, my little one,” he whispered, leaning forward to brush a kiss against her belly. “This is your father. I missed you terribly.”

Zaria threaded her fingers through his soft auburn hair, her heart stretching painfully at the sight. “The baby moves a lot now,” she said softly. “Maybe you’ll feel him before you leave again.”

“Him?” Callen rose slowly, keeping one hand on her stomach while he tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. His thumb traced the curl of her jaw. “I think it’s a boy.”

Something flickered in his expression, gone too quickly for her to catch, but his voice remained steady. “Whatever our baby is… I’ll love them just the same.” Then he kissed her.

It began soft, hesitant, as though he feared she might vanish. But when she leaned into him, the kiss deepened. His palm cupped her cheek; her fingers curled around the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

His breath mingled with hers as their lips moved with a longing that had been building for months, slow and aching and familiar. “I love you, Zaria,” he whispered between kisses. “I love you too, Callen,” she breathed, her voice warm enough to undo him completely.

He grinned, bright, unrestrained and lifted her in one sweeping motion, spinning her once before he set her down carefully, forehead resting against hers. “Gods, I’ve missed you,” he said, wonder threading through every word.

“We actually have to go fishing because I didn’t have the fridge stocked before we arrived,” Zakai interrupted dryly. Callen shot him a murderous glare for cutting into their moment.

“That reminds me,” Callen said, ignoring Zakai entirely. “I brought you something.” He laced his fingers with Zaria’s and tugged her toward the cottage. Inside, he rummaged through a worn cloth bag, comically ill-fitted for any royal, and pulled out two compact bows.

Zaria gasped softly as she lifted the first one. “What are these?” “A levering bow,” Callen explained, pride warming his tone. “Requires less force, shoots straighter. More accurate for your size.”

“It’s so light,” she murmured, running a finger along its smooth metal frame. Callen stepped behind her, one hand settling lightly on her hip, the other steadying the bow with her. “I thought you’d like it.”

“I do,” she whispered, turning into him. She rose onto her toes and kissed him again... a kiss deeper than gratitude. Her fingers curled around his shoulders; Her tongue met his, and his hand tightened at her waist.

Their breaths tangled as the kiss deepened, his mouth molding to hers with months of pent-up longing behind every movement. When he pulled back, their foreheads touched, both of them breathing unevenly. His thumb dragged gently across her lower lip, leaving her eyes fluttering.

Zakai cleared his throat loudly. Both jerked slightly apart. “What’s this one?” Zakai asked, lifting the second bow. Callen exhaled slowly. “Same design. Fitted with a reel for fishing.” “The bigger question,” Zakai said, brow arched, “is how she’ll explain them to Lord River.”

Zaria stiffened slightly but tried to play it off. “River doesn’t go through my things as if he’s conducting inventory.” “He sleeps in your room,” Zakai countered. “He’ll notice metal bows.” Callen’s heart pinched at the mention of the elf lord.

“How about this, I’ll take them back with me and have Christian send them to you as a royal gift from the palace. That should excite River more than concern him.” Zakai nodded. Zaria nodded. Problem solved.

“Good,” Callen said. “Now let’s go fishing before I have to leave.” Zaria’s steps faltered. “…You’re leaving already?” “I need to leave for a few hours at sunset, I have some business to attend to.” Callen said gently. “But I’ll return before dawn.”

“What business?” she whispered. Callen hesitated. Zakai answered before he could. “He’s married now, Zaria. Asking will only hurt you.” She swallowed and nodded without another word. No one said anything else. The silence that followed was thick, almost suffocating.

Zaria turned away and began to walk toward the ocean with her new bow, needing space, needing air. The sound of her footsteps on the path was soft, swallowed by the hush of the swaying trees around them.

The shoreline glowed under a warm, golden wash of sunlight. Waves lapped gently at Zaria’s boots as she stepped onto the packed sand. Callen came to stand behind her as she raised the fishing bow. “Pull slow,” he breathed into her ear, sending a cascade of tingles down her spine.

His fingers brushed her elbow, steadying her. She nodded, drawing the bowstring smoothly. A silver fish darted near the surface. She released. The arrow sliced cleanly into the water, and the reel whirred in her hand. Zaria let out a gasp, her face splitting into a bright smile.

“I did it!” Callen couldn’t stop the answering grin spreading across his face. “Of course you did.” She fished again… and again. Four fish in one hour. Zakai collected them with feigned annoyance.

Callen, meanwhile, watched her more than the water. The wind in her hair, the soft swell of her belly, the joy lighting her features. For a moment, he let himself imagine a world where this was all there was.

When the sun dipped low, Zaria paused, bow lowering. “Already...” she whispered, voice gathering cracks. Callen stepped closer, his hand brushing her arm. “I’ll return before the sun rises. I swear.”

She slipped into his embrace without hesitation, her cheek pressed to his chest. His hand slid into her hair, holding her close. “Be safe,” she murmured. He kissed her softly an aching, lingering goodbye, and then forced himself to step back. Zaria watched as he disappeared into the trees, her breath catching in her chest.

Then something stirred. A warmth in the air. A tremble in the ground. The wind shifted, swirling leaves in a golden spiral. From the forest’s edge… something vast moved. Callen emerged in his dragon form, golden scales blazing like a living sunset.

His wings unfurled with breathtaking majesty, sending warm gusts rolling across the shore. Zaria pressed a hand to her belly, awe filling her chest. “Your father,” she whispered to the child beneath her palm. “Your father is the most magnificent creature I’ve ever seen.”