The palace was quiet that night. Too quiet. After the storm of accusations in the court, silence clung to the halls like a weight. The torches flickered, shadows swayed, and the echo of whispers still haunted the air.
Andy walked alone toward the training courtyard. His chest still burned with the memory of chains unspoken, of nobles judging him like he was less than human. He picked up a wooden blade, swinging it through the night air. Each strike cracked against nothing but the silence, and still it wasn't enough.
If I stop moving… I'll drown in it.
He swung again, harder.
"You should rest."
He turned.
Nia stood in the archway, silver hair spilling around her like moonlight, robe draped over her shoulders. Her eyes softened when they met his, though shadows still lingered in them. She stepped closer, her footsteps light on the stone.
"Rest?" Andy muttered, lowering the blade. He laughed bitterly. "If I sleep, I'll wake up in chains."
Nia's chest tightened at his words. She had known her father's intention; she had heard it in his voice. He would turn Andy into steel if he could, sharpen him until nothing remained but fire and obedience. And her brother's voice—calm, cruel—still rang in her ears.
They don't see him. They don't know him.
"Then don't sleep," she said gently. "Train with me instead."
His brow rose. "Train? After all that?"
"Why not?" She walked to the rack and lifted a wooden staff, holding it with both hands. Her stance was awkward, but her eyes glimmered with something stubborn, playful. "I want to see if the Dragon Warrior can handle a noblewoman with a stick."
For the first time since the court, he chuckled. "Dangerous words, princess."
Their weapons clashed softly. Wood against wood, strike against strike. Nia's movements were clumsy at first, her breath quick, but she refused to yield. Andy guided her, his strikes controlled, correcting her grip when she faltered.
"You're holding too tight," he murmured.
Her breath caught when his hand slid over hers, adjusting her fingers. Heat rushed to her cheeks, but she forced herself to nod. "Then… show me properly."
His chest tightened at the trust in her voice. His hand lingered longer than needed. The distance between them shrank with every strike, until their spar felt less like combat and more like a dance—hesitant, imperfect, but shared.
Nia's staff lowered at last, her chest rising and falling quickly. "Today… in the hall… when you said you'd stand for me…" Her voice trembled, her heart loud in her ears. "You meant it, didn't you?"
Andy's breath stilled. He met her eyes, molten fire meeting silver light. "I did. More than anything."
Her lips parted, her throat tightening with words she had held too long. I love you. I don't care about House, about chains. I choose you. But the fear of her father's gaze, the memory of Andrew's bitterness, pressed the confession back down.
Instead, she smiled faintly, tapping his blade with her staff. "Then don't you dare falter, Andy."
He exhaled, half-frustrated, half-relieved, but a smile tugged at his lips. "Bossy as ever."
Her laugh rang softly, easing the knot in her chest. And his laugh followed, lighter than it had been in days.
They trained a little longer, movements less tense, more playful. Sometimes she missed, and he let her. Sometimes he swung wide, and she struck his arm, grinning at her small victory. When they finally stopped, leaning side by side against the railing, the night air cooled their sweat, and silence returned—but this time, it was gentle.
Nia let her hand drift close until her fingers brushed his. She told herself it was an accident, but she didn't pull away when he answered with the slightest squeeze.
The System chimed quietly in both their minds, like a secret meant only for them.
> [Optional Task Completed: Shared Solace]
Bond Progression: +1%
Current Bond Level: 98%
Andy turned his head slightly, catching the way she gazed up at the stars, silver eyes thoughtful, lips curved in the faintest smile. And for the first time that day, he felt… at peace.
Nia, watching the night sky, felt the warmth of his hand steady against hers and let her heart whisper the words her lips could not yet: If the world calls you a curse, then let me bear it too.
Together, they stood beneath the quiet flames of moonlight, two souls inching closer, waiting for the moment when silence would no longer hold them back.
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