Chapter 8 -A dead swordsman protects no one

  Ryn stepped from his room, every movement triggering a sharp pain that still lanced through his chest. Each breath was a careful calculation, each step deliberate, but he refused to let it slow him. The castle halls stretched before him, long corridors of polished stone, the morning sun filtering through tall windows.

  As Ryn walked through the maze that was the Solvara Palace, he crossed paths with many guards and servants who seemed unaware of his presence. Whispers floated around him, carried on the soft echo of his boots against the floor.

  “Did you hear? The princess’s guard… he fought an aberration.”

  “Apparently, one got inside the walls.”

  “And… he’s very young, isn’t he?”

  Ryn’s eyes narrowed. He ignored the voices, but the murmurs followed still. He turned corner after corner, but the more he moved, the more he realized he was lost.

  The corridors twisted endlessly, one gilded archway bleeding into the next. Ryn’s eyes flicked over carved reliefs and marble pillars, none of them telling him which way to go. A sigh almost escaped him; he hated feeling lost, hated wasting time. Yet he kept moving as if he belonged here, even if he had no clue where the next hall would lead.

  Just as he was about to lose all hope and surrender himself to the palace

  A startled cry reached his ears.

  The next instant, he collided with someone, and the impact sent a platter clattering to the floor. He looked down to see a familiar flow of silver hair.

  It was Lilia, wide-eyed and frozen, her hands trembling.

  “Sir… Knight?” she stammered, shock threading her voice. Her gaze flicked between his armor, the faintly ragged straps of bandages, and his steady stare. “Y-you… you’re walking…”

  Ryn replied flatly, his head tilting. “Yes. I’m walking?”

  Lilia’s hands went to her mouth, utterly speechless. Ryn knew she had witnessed the state he had been in just a day prior, how badly he had been wounded. And now he moved through the halls with all the calm and control of someone untouched by pain.

  Lilia bent quickly to gather the scattered fruit, still staring at him in disbelief. “What are you doing here? You shouldn’t even be walking…” Her voice trembled in a whisper.

  Ryn’s gaze stayed steady on her, voice even. “The princess. Which way to her chambers?”

  She stared, wide-eyed. “Y-You can’t… you’re still hurt. You should be resting,…Do you have any idea how deep your wound-”

  “I have orders from the king,” he said firmly, his tone was calm.

  Lilia’s fingers fidgeted at her apron, her gaze darting to his chest where the bandages peeked under his armor. She opened her mouth as if to argue, but the words caught in her throat. At last, she gave a small, reluctant nod. “…I’ll show you. But… I’m sure the princess would have been more glad to see you resting…”

  Ryn inclined his head slightly. “Lead the way.”

  Lilia walked quickly, tugging Ryn along through the endless corridors of polished stone and golden trim. Her steps were small but certain; unlike him, she seemed to know every turn and passageway by heart.

  For a while, the only sound was the echo of their footsteps. Then, hesitantly, she spoke. “…Um… Sir Knight?”

  Her grip on the tray tightened. “I… I wanted to thank you. For yesterday. If you hadn’t been there, if you hadn’t fought that thing…” Her voice wavered, but she steadied it. “The princess… and even I, we wouldn’t be standing here today.”

  Ryn looked down, his gaze shifting to Lilia.”You don’t need to thank me. I was only doing whats expected of me.”

  Lilia slowed slightly, then looked up at him with a small smile, then shook her head. “At least allow me to thank you, You protected us, and that matters.”

  She walked a few steps in silence, then peeked at him from the corner of her eye. “Um… do I have to keep calling you ‘Sir Knight’?”

  She paused for a second, hesitating

  “I’d… I’d like to call you Ryn, if that’s alright.”

  His reply came flat, but not unkind. “If you want.”

  Her eyes widened a little at how easily he’d answered. “…Just Ryn, right?”

  “That’s enough.”

  For a moment, she studied his face, as though testing the sound of the name in her mind. Then, softly, almost to herself, she repeated it.

  “…Ryn.”

  Just as their short conversation had ended, Ryn and Lilia had reached the familiar embroidered door.

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  “You have business here as well?” Ryn asked, turning his gaze toward Lilia.

  She glanced down at the fruit on her platter, fingers fidgeting against its edge. “I am her appointed maid, after all,” she said softly, as though reminding herself as much as him.

  With that, she knocked slightly, announced herself, and pushed open the door gently.

  The princess’s chambers radiated a subtle glow, tall windows lined the far wall, veiled with silver gauze that drifted gently in the morning breeze. The morning light of the sun spilled across polished white stone, painting the floor in a golden hue.

  His gaze swept the room in measured silence. The carved canopy bed rose like a sculpted monument, its posts spiraling upward like vines. Plush rugs sprawled across the floor, lilies and stars woven into their threads, every step swallowed into silence. Too soft, Ryn thought.

  The door creaked, and Ariel stirred at once, rising slightly from the bed. Her hair was tangled, her gown creased from sleep. She looked nothing like the polished figure of a princess, only someone caught unprepared, but even in the morning’s chaos, there was a quiet elegance to her face, a soft beauty that needed no adornment.

  She rubbed at her eyes, blinking away the haze of sleep.

  “Lilia?” she murmured, her voice soft, frayed at the edges. A small yawn escaped before she could stifle it. “What is …”

  Her words faltered the moment her gaze shifted past the maid, landing instead on the armored figure standing just behind.

  “...”

  Her breath caught as recognition struck. She jolted upright, dragging her sheets up to cover herself as her eyes widened.

  “Ry-Ryn?!” she blurted, the name breaking out sharp and incredulous. Her face flushed with a mix of anger and embarrassment. “What are you doing here ?!”

  Ryn raised his brow slightly ‘I don’t recall ever giving the princess my name… Did I? And simply forgot?

  “Hey! I’m talking to you!” Ariel snapped, her voice edged with disbelief.

  Ryn’s gaze stayed steady. “I have an order from your father. As long as I can still breathe, I’ll continue protecting you, princess.”

  Ariel furrowed her brow, her voice sharp. “Just how stubborn can you get? It’s obvious you’re hurting. Take a day. Enough rest won’t kill you.”

  “It might not kill me, but if—”

  She cut him off, louder than she meant to. “You’re not the only guard in this palace! What if you push yourself too far and become injured beyond repair?”

  Her voice caught suddenly, unsteady, as if some memory tugged at her.

  Then she snapped back up, tone harsh again, “So rest, now!”

  “Even so,” he replied, “If my life is the cost, then so be it. That is my burden, not yours.”

  Ariel drew in a sharp breath, ready to snap back, her eyes narrowing on Ryn. But before she could speak, Lilia shifted uneasily, clutching the edge of her platter tighter. “I-I think Ryn is just… worried about you, princess," she stammered, glancing between them. “I don’t think your words will change his mind.”

  Ariel clicked her tongue, turning her head away with a sharp tsk. The sound carried all her frustration, though her silence said more than her glare could.

  Ryn, unmoved, only adjusted his stance as if the matter was settled.

  “At least leave while I get ready,” Ariel said, her voice clipped as she turned her back to him. “I’ll be out in ten minutes.”

  Ryn inclined his head in a small bow, Without a word more, he turned on his heel and left the princess’s chamber, carrying himself with the same calm composure he always did.

  ***

  Ariel’s fingers clenched at the folds of her gown as the door shut behind Ryn. Lilia was already moving toward her, setting the fruit platter aside and pulling open the wardrobe with practiced hands. Ariel sat stiffly on the edge of her bed, watching her maid fuss with fabrics, but her thoughts were elsewhere. Stubborn, frustratingly unshakable, and walking right out of her chambers as though nothing had happened.

  “I’ll never understand him,” Ariel muttered under her breath, rising reluctantly so Lilia could help her change.

  “Doesn’t he realize he was nearly chopped in two yesterday? And yet he acts as if none of it mattered.”

  Lilia’s hands hesitated on the laces before she whispered, “He… doesn’t seem like the type to think of himself first.”

  “That’s exactly the problem,” Ariel snapped. “Charging into danger, binding himself to orders,” she let out a sharp sigh.

  “I’ve seen swordsmen my entire life, and not one of them fought like him.” The memory from yesterday tugged at her—Ryn standing, bleeding, refusing to fall.

  Her hands curled at her sides. “If he throws himself away, what then? We’d just lose a powerful knight; a dead swordsman protects no one, Lilia.”

  She gave a nervous little laugh, fumbling with a sash. “Still, I think it’s… brave. I mean, I couldn’t even move yesterday, not like him. Maybe that’s just what knights are supposed to do.”

  Ariel rolled her eyes.“Brave and reckless are not the same thing. If he keeps this up, he’ll end up broken, or worse, and then where would that leave us?”

  Lilia glanced down, almost timidly. “With someone else, probably.”

  Ariel fell silent at that, lips pressing together as she turned away. Lilia ducked her head and focused on tying the knot.

  Minutes later, Ariel was ready.

  Her gown was simple by royal standards, a soft white dress of light fabric that fell loosely around her frame. The sleeves were long but unadorned, the hem brushing just above her slippers. A thin ribbon gathered the waist, and her golden hair, which was now neatly combed, fell down her back. It was far from the ceremonial finery expected of a princess, plain, almost understated, but it carried the quiet grace of someone born to wear it.

  Ariel smoothed the ribbon at her waist and let out a quiet sigh, stepping toward the door. Lilia hurried to fall in beside her, balancing the now-empty platter against her hip.

  “Princess, you really should be sleeping earlier,” Lilia murmured, glancing at her mistress’s pale face.

  “I’ve rested enough,” Ariel replied, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “If I stay idle any longer, I’ll lose my mind.” Her tone dropped, a faint edge of stubbornness there.” Plus, we can't keep my knight waiting, can we?”

  Lilia bit her lip, unsure how to answer, but she followed dutifully as Ariel pushed open the door.

  The corridor beyond was quiet, light streaming in from the tall windows. Ryn was there alright, bowing with measured composure, yet his head was forced down not entirely by choice. An older knight stood at his front, one hand clamped firmly into Ryn’s dark hair, holding it by the crown like a wayward hound.

  A gleaming sigil of the Royal Vanguard caught the light on the broad-shouldered guard’s armor, with two others flanking Ryn at his sides.

  The man’s expression was mocking, his armor heavy, marked by years of service. Ryn did not resist, though Ariel could see the faint flare of tension in his jaw, the quiet defiance smoldering beneath his stillness.