The Fallen Princess

Twenty Six

“Take this and head to the temple. Stay there until I send someone for you.” Callen placed a heavy golden ring in Zakai’s palm. A dragon wrought in sapphire; its scaled wings curved protectively around the band. Even in the dim corridor light, it gleamed with unmistakable authority.

“That is my family crest,” Callen said. “Show it to the head priest; he will give you a room.” Zakai nodded once, but his attention flicked toward Zaria. She wasn’t truly present, her gaze had drifted somewhere far beyond the stone walls, caught between fear and thought.

“Are you ready?” he asked quietly, touching her shoulder. “Yes,” she breathed, though the tremor behind the word betrayed her. Callen stepped closer, cupping her cheek. His scent, leather, steel, and something uniquely him, wrapped around her.

He pulled her gently into his chest, burying his face in her hair as if memorizing every strand. “I’ll see you tonight,” he murmured. Then he kissed her. It was soft at first, a promise rather than a goodbye. But it lingered… stretching longer than Zakai’s patience allowed.

“Ahem.” Zakai cleared his throat sharply, face tight with discomfort. “No one is dying. We’re simply going to the temple.” Zaria let out a small, breathless laugh. Callen lifted a black hood and settled it over her head, tucking stray strands with careful fingers.

“The horses are outside,” he said, his voice shifting back to command. On his way out, he clapped Zakai’s shoulder, firm and purposeful. “Keep her safe.” Zakai dipped his head, then took his sister’s hand and led her down the corridor.

Callen stayed behind only long enough to catch one last glimpse of her disappearing around the bend before turning toward the opposite hall. His father was waiting.

Callen walked slowly, dragging out every step toward the king’s office. He already knew how this would go... cold accusations, barbed expectations, thinly veiled threats. The usual. He paused outside the heavy double doors, inhaled once, then pushed them open.

“I called for you over an hour ago,” the King hissed without looking up from his desk. “I had things to do,” Callen replied, dropping into a chair with deliberate casualness. “The elves arrived today. You will attend the welcome banquet tonight.”

“Wonderful,” Callen said, flipping a golden hourglass on a side table. Sand spilled noiselessly into the lower chamber. “Will that be all?” The King’s gaze sharpened. “You were with that girl last night again, weren’t you?” “You’ll have to be more specific, Father.” Callen smirked. “Which girl... you’ve sent so many to my room recently.”

“Don’t play coy with me, boy! You know exactly which girl I mean!” The King hurled a sealed letter. It struck Callen’s chest before bouncing into his lap. He broke the seal lazily. “Juliana’s father sent that today,” the King snapped. “If you ruin this arrangement-”

“Then what?” Callen interrupted. “What exactly will you do?” He tossed the letter back across the desk like it offended him. “What you should be worried about,” Callen added, “is the fact that they have eyes inside your castle.”

The King stiffened. “What would you have me do?” “I don’t know… screen your personnel better?” Callen shrugged. “But far be it from me to advise a king.” “Enough,” the King spat. “This marriage needs to happen.”

“Because you can’t keep your own people from his pockets?” Callen prodded, reclining further into the chair. The King ignored him. “Where is the elf girl?” “With her brother, Where she’s been this entire time father.” Callen lied smoothly.

“Make sure she is presentable,” the King growled. “Her betrothed and his first wife will be at the banquet.” Callen’s jaw went still. “…First wife?” “Elves take multiple wives, as you know.” Callen scoffed sharply. “Regardless, she cannot attend.”

“And why not?” the King demanded. “She is completing important volunteer work on my behalf.” He didn’t even bother to craft a decent lie. “Since when do you do volunteer work.” the king snapped. “Since now,” Callen said with a grin.

“Have her brought back immediately.” “I could,” Callen said lightly, “but unfortunately I’d have to miss the banquet as well.” “And why would you have to miss it?” the King growled, “Logistics.” Callen said with a slight shrug.

A golden paperweight flew across the room and clipped Callen’s arm. “Ow...That was unkind,” Callen said, half laughing. “MARTIAN!” The king’s trembling assistant rushed in. “Y-yes, my King?” “Find the elf princess. Bring her directly to me.”

Callen rose slowly, conjuring a curl of blue flame into his palm. The fire danced over his skin without burning it. He fixed his stare on Martian. “Do you have a family?” he asked quietly. Martian paled. “Yes… Your Highness.” “Then you’d be wise not to meddle in my affairs. Understood?” The man nodded quickly, nerves written in every line of his posture.

“The princess will return in a few days,” Callen said. “I had more paperwork dumped on me than humanly possible, so I had to allocate personnel wisely.” He closed his fist, extinguishing the flame.

“The elves expect her,” the King insisted. “Well,” Callen said cheerfully, “the elves’ early arrival is their problem.” Then he patted Martian’s back. “Perhaps let him go home early, Father. To that family he loves so much.” Martian nodded rapidly as Callen gave a curt bow and stepped out.

He didn’t go to his chambers immediately. He wandered the hall for several minutes, pressure building behind his eyes, exhaustion weighing on every limb. By the time he reached his room, the tension had knotted itself into a headache.

He dropped onto the bed face-first. “Gods above… just one moment of peace...” A knock thundered through the door. “For f**k’s sake,” Callen growled into the mattress. “What is it now?”

Christian slipped inside, wearing yesterday’s annoyance and today’s amusement. “Please tell me you didn’t do what I think you did.” Callen sat up slowly. “How do you hear everything so quickly?”

“A future king should know what occurs in his castle.” “Then they shall call you the King of Approximate Knowledge since you're having to ask what it is that I’ve done,” Callen muttered. “How impudent,” Christian huffed. “Now, where is the little princess?”

“I don’t like when you call her that.” Callen muttered. “Answer. My. Question.” Callen rubbed his forehead. “I sent the elven twins to the temple to buy myself time.” Christian blinked. “…Oh. Better than I assumed.”

“What did you think I did?” “I assumed you sent them running off into the sunset, living freely as wandering spirits.” Callen snorted. “I would have, but Juliana still has eyes on Zaria and is holding a grudge. She turns a blind eye to all the courtesans?”

“Zaria is a princess brother, she has a title, albeit diminished. But your precious fiancé holds none. Jealousy is a wicked mistress.” Christian sank onto the settee, folding his arms. “So what is your plan?” “I don’t have one,” Callen admitted. “This is a complete mess.”

“Well, I have more news brother.” Callen groaned. “Is it good news?” “That depends on whom you’re asking. For you... no.” Callen shot him a glare. “Just tell me.” “Father already accepted the bride price. The deal is done.”

Callen sat upright. “When did you find that out?” “Speaking with some elves earlier,” Christian said. Callen dragged a hand down his face. “What are my options?”

Christian leaned back, thinking. “She could decline… if Lord River is a gentleman.” “He won’t be,” Callen muttered. “No man would turn her away willingly.” A tense silence stretched. Christian snapped his fingers. “Tell them she’s pregnant... We could easily pay off a healer to confirm our lie...”

Callen stared. “…That could work, at least delay the elf lord.” he said slowly. “It might,” Christian agreed. “Though he may marry her anyway and discard the child later. These things happen.” “She could actually be pregnant...” Callen murmured.

Christian stared harder. “…You didn’t use any protection? No herbs? No tinctures? Not even-” “No.” Christian rubbed his face. “Why are you like this? You’re already drowning, and your instinct is to set the ocean on fire.”

“You just described yourself.” Callen retorted. “Maybe usually,” Christian said, “but not today.” Callen exhaled, overwhelmed. “This could all go terribly wrong.”

“It probably will,” Christian said cheerfully. “But it’s still worth trying. And after that, all that remains is keeping her away from Juliana.” He grinned. “I’m glad you confided in me. We are… bonding.”

When Christian finally left, silence returned. Callen lowered his head into his hands. Everything felt fragile. Everything felt borrowed. Zaria’s heartbeat, steady in his memory, was the only thing that didn’t feel like it was slipping through his fingers.

He needed her safe. He needed time. He had neither. Only borrowed hours… and borrowed hope