They moved through Drakenfell's inner halls at a measured pace. The stonework was old and well kept, the corridors wide and lit by soft, steady light.
As they walked, Serena became aware of the attention. Eyes followed her unapologetically as they passed.
People froze mid-step. Conversations cut off halfway. A drink slipped from a hand and shattered on the stone floor. A warrior dropped a piece of his armor.
She had always drawn stares, rarely kind ones, so this was nothing new.
Her hair caught attention first. Long, thick, and almost white, it fell in loose curls to her waist, catching gold in sunlight and torchfire alike. It made her impossible to miss. Her green eyes stood out sharply against her light-olive skin.
She was painfully thin and teased for it. A runt, most would say. But she still had breasts and feminine curves. The combination drew attention where she wanted none. She had learned early to cover herself.
Her crimson cloak stayed wrapped over the training suit beneath, which was for the best. Even worn loose, it was designed to be skin-tight, and it traced her figure more than she was used to.
She kept her gaze forward and her shoulders squared, even as heat crept up her neck. She pretended the stares did not exist.
Elara, unfortunately, noticed and was already performing for the crowd.
She was unapologetically herself. Something that Serena loved about her, but also made going anywhere with her a public event.
At that moment, one of the passing healers nearly walked into a column.
Alaric cleared his throat. "For the record, he was staring because we hadn't expected you to be walking today."
Elara nodded thoughtfully. "Don't worry. She gets stares quite often. When she's not chained up that is."
Serena shot her a look.
Alaric's mouth twitched before he could stop it.
"She is quiet." Alaric said, as if Serena wasn't there.
Elara snorted, "Yes, but don't let that fool you. She's sharper than a blade."
Serena huffed despite herself. "Gods Elara, I am right here."
"Yes," Elara agreed. "Gorgeous. Alive, upright, and annoyingly stubborn. It is very on brand."
"You are very beautiful," Alaric said, matter-of-fact, as his fingers brushed through a loose strand of her hair. It was a brief, assessing touch. "I have never seen anyone like you."
Serena was not offended. Just startled. He touched her with an ease that would have unsettled her from anyone else. From him, it felt clinical. Neutral. She did not mind it.
"Thank you," she said, warmth creeping into her cheeks despite herself.
"You will make enemies quickly," Alaric continued calmly. Then his attention shifted, curiosity getting the better of him as he examined Elara's hair in the same detached way. "Both of you will. Whichever god thought to pair you as friends showed a remarkable lack of mercy."
Elara grinned. "What? You've never seen a redheaded vixen and a moon goddess in the wild?"
She bumped Serena lightly with her shoulder. "See? Already causing trouble."
Serena shook her head, rolling her eyes, but the tightness in her shoulders eased just a fraction.
Then a voice spoke from down the corridor, amused and unrestrained.
"The rumors said she was stunning. For once, the rumors were not exaggerating."
Serena slowed as a tall, muscular, and dangerously handsome man stepped away from the wall, his eyes openly assessing her from head to toe without shame or apology.
"Forgive the staring," he added casually. It's just… hard not to when someone walks into a room like thunder wrapped in silk."
Alaric stopped walking.
"For the love of the moon goddess," he muttered.
The man grinned. "Gavriel Sterling, Gamma of Drakenfell," he said easily.
His gaze returned to Serena, direct and unapologetic.
Serena blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the bluntness. Then instinct took over. She dipped her head and shoulders respectfully, and Elara mirrored the motion beside her without hesitation.
Gavriel laughed once, low and appreciative.
"Polite too," he said. "Men tend to forget themselves around that."
Serena met his gaze, unflinching. "Thank you, Gamma Sterling for the flattery."
Gavriel's grin widened. "I am not flattering you. I am interested."
Alaric pinched the bridge of his nose. "I am going to start sedating people."
Serena glanced at him without missing a step. "Please start with him."
Gavriel laughed. "Careful," he said. "Say things like that and I might decide I like you even more."
"Well," Dexmon said lightly, lips curving. "I leave you alone for five minutes and you start trying to recruit chaos in the hallway. Bold strategy, Gav."
Gavriel's grin widened immediately, wicked and unapologetic. "Dex. Buddy. Pal. In my defense, the chaos introduced herself. I was just being polite."
Dexmon hummed. "You have never been polite in your life."
"That hurts," Gavriel said, clutching his chest. "I'm a picture of decorum. Ask anyone who survived knowing me."
Dexmon's mouth twitched, then his gaze shifted.
When his eyes settled on Serena the humor sharpened into something more focused, more dangerous. Recognition flickered there, immediate and unmistakable.
"Prince Dexmon Drakenfell," he said smoothly. "Though we have already met in the forest."
Serena's lips twitched at that and she dipped her head composed. Elara mirrored her a heartbeat later, chin lowered, eyes sharp.
Then, as if noticing the stares, Dexmon turned slightly then, angling himself just enough to place Serena at his side without touching her. But the message was clear.
The corridor resumed its quiet movement, the stares suddenly far more cautious than curious.
"You'll have to excuse us," Gavriel said.
They were almost out of the corridor when Gavriel turned around and spoke loudly for everyone to hear.
"I'll be back for you, Serena."