Princess Zovia drew a deep, shuddering breath, her knuckles white as she squeezed her hands together. Her eyes, usually the pride of the Arkveil dynasty for their clarity and grace, darted nervously toward the silent, sun-drenched corridors of the palace before settling on Eins and Elson with a gaze of raw desperation.
"You two... I beg of you. Swear upon your honor as men of the Guild that whatever you hear or see within these walls will never cross your lips. Not to the guards, not to the ministers... not even to my father, the King."
Eins and Elson exchanged a weighted glance. The air in the corridor seemed to thicken, charged with the gravity of a royal confidence.
"As adventurers, our reputation is built on the sanctity of our contracts, Your Highness. Discretion is as vital to us as the steel we carry," Elson replied, his usual playful smirk replaced by a mask of professional solemnity.
Zovia's voice trembled as she continued. "I... I refuse to be the sacrificial lamb for this betrothal. I care nothing for the geopolitical alliances or the prosperity of two crowns if it means my life is to be a scripted lie. My heart is already spoken for. I have found someone who swore to protect me—not for the crown I wear, but for the soul I possess."
Eins's eyes widened behind his spectacles. "But Your Highness, defying an inter-kingdom marriage is a move that could spark a diplomatic wildfire. Who could possibly command such loyalty and love that you would risk the safety of Arkveil itself?"
Zovia didn't answer with words. Instead, she gestured for them to follow, leading them through a series of hidden passages—narrow corridors concealed behind heavy tapestries and rotating stone panels. They emerged into a "Hidden Garden," a verdant sanctuary tucked deep within the palace's inner sanctum. It was a masterpiece of botanical isolation, filled with luminescent, rare flora and surrounded by walls so high they seemed to scrape the sky.
In the center of the garden stood a small, rustic tea pavilion. Perched atop its roof, lounging with the effortless poise of a mountain predator, was a man with his eyes closed. He was physically imposing, with short, spiked black hair and skin the color of burnished bronze. However, it was his limbs that defied human nature: his arms were covered in a dense plumage of jet-black feathers, and his hands ended in curved, obsidian-like talons that glinted dangerously in the sun.
"Hawkwind!" Zovia called out softly, her voice melodic and full of affection.
At the sound of the Princess's voice, the man—Hawkwind—snapped his eyes open. They were a piercing, predatory crimson. The moment his gaze landed on the two strangers standing beside Zovia, his feral instincts overrode all else. In a blur of black feathers and motion, he launched himself from the roof, plummeting toward the earth like a hawk into a valley.
"Intruders!" Hawkwind roared. His talons extended, slicing through the air as he aimed a lethal strike directly at the throat of Eins, who stood at the front of the group.
Eins froze. The speed was beyond human comprehension—a terminal velocity of muscle and feather. But just as the obsidian claws were an inch from his jugular—
DUAAKK!
A violent atmospheric shockwave erupted. A massive shadow of white and ash-grey materialized out of thin air, standing like an iron wall between Eins and certain death. Lysara's large, powerful hand shot out, catching Hawkwind's wrist mid-swing with a grip that caused the very ground beneath them to crater and crack.
"Don't you dare touch a single hair on his head, little bird," Lysara hissed, her face a mask of cold, terrifying irritation.
From Lysara's back, little Zelia, who had been secured in her travel-sling, skillfully unbuckled herself and dropped to the grass. "Papa Eins!" she cried out, ignoring the battle as she sprinted forward and clung to Eins's leg as if he were the only stable thing in the world.
A few yards away, Leonika descended from the palace eaves with the weightless grace of a falling leaf, landing precisely beside Elson.
Elson let out a long, exhausted groan, slapping his palm against his forehead. "Leonika... I specifically recall telling you to stay at the manor and help Lysara look after Zelia."
Leonika merely gave a sultry, teasing smile, leaning her head on Elson's shoulder. "Oh, Elson darling, you know I couldn't leave you unsupervised in a palace full of porcelain princesses. My curiosity is far more dangerous than any guard."
Princess Zovia stood paralyzed, her mouth agape as her secret garden was suddenly flooded with beings of myth and legend. However, the most profound shock was reserved for Hawkwind.
The hawk-man pulled his hand back, leaping several meters away to gain distance. His crimson eyes searched Lysara's face, wide with a disbelief that bordered on religious awe. "You... this aura... it's impossible. The Commander of the First Vengeance, the most feared of the Ancient Beastfolk? The 'Fenrir's Fang,' Lysara?!"
Lysara narrowed her eyes, her intimidating presence shifting from aggression to a wary, recognition-laden suspicion. "Hawkwind? The little eaglet who used to fall behind during the supersonic training drills?"
Hawkwind straightened his posture, his fierce demeanor replaced by a sudden, jarring paleness. "Why are you here? And why do you stand as a shield for a human? Weren't they the ones who betrayed our kin and sealed you into a millennium of silence?"
Lysara stole a fleeting glance at Eins—looking at his messy hair, his slightly crooked glasses, and the gentle way he was now stroking Zelia's head—before turning back to the hawk-man. "The world has moved on, Hawkwind. And this human... he is of a different breed than the ones who broke us."
Hawkwind let out a sharp, cynical grunt, but he retracted his talons. "How ironic. I find myself in a similar cage. Guarding this noisy, fragile human girl."
Zovia, who had been trembling in fear moments ago, suddenly underwent a transformation. Her face flushed with a royal fury as she marched toward Hawkwind—a man twice her size and ten times her strength.
"Hawkwind! What is wrong with your head?!" Zovia reached up, grabbed one of Hawkwind's slightly pointed, feathered ears, and yanked it downward with surprising violence.
"Ow! Ow! Princess! Stop! Mercy!" the legendary predator whimpered, his terrifying persona crumbling instantly as he was brought to his knees by the tiny princess.
"They are my secret guests! I brought them here to save us, and you try to decapitate them?!" Zovia scolded, continuing to twist his ear. "Do you want my father to execute me for the murder of my own guides? Have you no brains in that bird-skull of yours?!"
Eins, Elson, Lysara, and Leonika stood in a stunned, silent row, watching the bizarre spectacle. A dainty, beautiful princess was currently disciplining an Ancient Beastfolk of the skies as if he were a disobedient toddler.
The garden fell into a heavy, awkward silence for several long seconds, until finally, Eins, Elson, Lysara, and Leonika all uttered a single word in a synchronized tone of flat, profound confusion:
"Eh...?"
The revelation was twofold: not only was the Princess's great secret a forbidden romance with a member of a feared ancient race, but their dynamic appeared to be... significantly more complicated than any of them had imagined.
To be continued...