The moon hung high over Kaivelle's white-towered castle, casting silver light across the ancient stone walls. It was a peaceful night, a rare moment of silence after the chaos of the arena. The sounds of cheering had long faded into memory, replaced by the gentle rustle of wind through the floral gardens and the distant hoot of owls.
Arslan lay on a lavish bed within one of the grand guest chambers of the castle. The room glowed softly under the warm amber hue of chandelier crystals suspended from the high domed ceiling. The floor was of polished obsidian tiles, reflecting the golden candlelight from the wall sconces. Velvet curtains, deep crimson with golden embroidery, draped the tall windows, one of which was slightly open, letting in a cool breeze that smelled of roses and night-blossom.
A dark oak wardrobe stood tall in the corner, and beside it, a stone-carved shelf held vials of fragrant oils and folded towels, showing the care Kaivelle took for their guests. The bed itself was enormous—king-sized, dressed in a quilt of black and silver threads, soft fur throws at the foot, and a carved headboard depicting the mythical guardian beasts of old Kaivelle.
Just then, the door creaked open gently. In stepped Nirela, dressed in a soft moonlight-blue robe, her silvery white hair falling gracefully over her shoulders, eyes glowing faintly in the dim room. The subtle scent of jasmine followed her as she moved closer to the bed.
"Are you alright?" she asked softly, her voice a calming melody in the quiet of the night.
Arslan stirred and turned toward her, offering a small smirk as he propped himself up on one elbow. "Yes... what happened to me, my love?"
Nirela sat on the edge of the bed, brushing her fingers lightly against his hand. Her smile was tender but tinged with concern. "As usual... there's always something that happens to you when you fight," she replied, a playful glint in her eyes.
Arslan chuckled faintly, shifting to sit upright beside her. "No... nothing happened this time. I'm alright."
But Nirela's expression didn't relax completely. She lowered her gaze, her voice becoming serious. "Let's go back to Lumisgrave..."
Arslan raised a brow and turned to face her fully. "What happened, dear?"
Nirela hesitated for a moment before responding, almost as if debating whether to say the next words aloud. "That Queen Maria..."
Arslan blinked. "What did she do?"
Nirela crossed her arms, clearly agitated. "I don't like her. There's a bad feeling... a twist in my gut. It's like she wants to get close to you. During the whole fight, she just kept looking at you. Smiling. She looked happy when you won. That's why she gave us all rooms in the castle. Who does that? It's not just generosity—it's calculated."
Arslan reached for her hand gently, pulling her closer. "You just don't worry, my love... I'll handle her. We'll leave tomorrow, okay?"
Nirela looked into his eyes, the tension in her shoulders softening. A faint smile played on her lips. "If you say so... then I believe you."
Arslan pulled her gently into his embrace, resting his forehead against hers. His voice dropped to a whisper, rich with affection. "You are just mine. My things never worry at all."
Nirela's cheeks flushed slightly, and her heart fluttered. There was a calm, powerful reassurance in his touch, the way his hands held her with both care and possession.
A moment of silence passed between them, the wind whispering through the open window. Then Nirela tilted her head, brushing a hand against his chest. "What's the reason you're becoming stronger and stronger?"
Arslan leaned back slightly, letting out a slow breath. "That's my continuous training... even at nights. Pushing my limits when the world sleeps. But there's something else too. I'll tell you more about it later, alright?"
Nirela's curiosity deepened, but she nodded. "Then... when do we train together?"
Arslan smirked again. "Whenever you say."
"When we go back to Lumisgrave," Nirela replied, her eyes brightening. "We'll do it together. I'll match your strength."
He leaned in, brushing a kiss against her forehead. "I would love that."
The night stretched around them like a velvet tapestry, stars glittering beyond the glass window. They spoke for hours—about battles and dreams, about fears they hadn't shared with anyone else. Nirela nestled close against his side, her head on his shoulder, fingers interlocked with his. There was something deeply intimate in that moment, not just romantic but real—a bond forged in the crucible of war, strengthened by every glance, every whisper, every shared silence.
She spoke of her first memory of seeing him in Lumisgrave's training ground, how distant he once seemed, how his presence now felt like home. He told her how her moonlight control saved him once during a covert raid—how he never forgot the calm in her face as everything around them crumbled
Outside, the sounds of distant guards patrolling the castle grounds mixed with the soft chime of wind chimes hanging from the balcony. A warm breeze stirred the curtains, and the candles flickered in their sconces, throwing dancing shadows across the ceiling.
"There's so much left for us to do," Arslan murmured, his fingers running through her hair. "This is just the beginning."
"Then we'll begin together," Nirela whispered back.
Their lips met, not with the hunger of desperation, but the sweetness of deep affection. It was a promise. A declaration. In that moment, there was no throne, no arena, no Kaivelle or Lumisgrave. Just them—two souls, bound beyond titles or duties.
The fire in the hearth crackled gently. The stars wheeled silently overhead. And in that quiet castle room, Arslan and Nirela drifted into the kind of peace warriors rarely find.
Tomorrow, there would be missions. There would be eyes watching. Maybe even the scheming of royalty.
But tonight...
Tonight was theirs.