43

  Two days had passed. Maxi and Katherine sat at the circular table in Finn’s chamber. They had been moved from the infirmary into a guest suite, spacious and sunlit, with curtains of pale gold that drifted gently with the breeze. Finn, now strong enough to walk, joined them for tea.

  They wore simple white tunics given by the castle maids, though the cut and softness of the fabric made them feel like royalty. Katherine wore a plain, sleeveless linen dress of soft blue, tied by a sash at the waist. Its simplicity only magnified her beauty — her hair straight and shining to her shoulders, her skin soft pink in the afternoon glow. Even in modest clothes, she looked radiant, serene, like someone who belonged both to their world and beyond it.

  They were all still uneasy about their situation. The warmth of Aurum’s walls, the silver goblets, and the steady rhythm of guards outside reminded them how far they were from home. “How will we go back?” Maxi thought to himself, stirring his tea absentmindedly.

  Finn couldn’t stop looking at Katherine. He remembered her laughter at the school play, the way she had brushed a strand of hair from her face that day, how bright she was before the storm that brought them here. Now she looked distant — older somehow — but still the same light. Katherine noticed his gaze and smiled faintly, awkwardly. Finn quickly looked away, pretending to fix his cup, but the warmth of that smile stayed with him.

  He glanced again, careful not to turn his head — and found that she was still looking at him.

  Then came a knock at the door. A maid’s voice followed, gentle but firm. “His Majesty, King Sargon of Aurum, wishes to visit.”

  All three of them froze. The maid opened the door, and the King entered — tall, broad-shouldered, with streaks of gray through his beard and a cloak of royal blue trimmed in gold. Prince William followed behind him, and at his back, the young Princess Sophia.

  The King carried a calm authority that filled the room. Behind him, servants bore three wooden boxes and a medallion marked with the sigil of Aurum — the angel and lion entwined in flight.

  King Sargon smiled faintly as he looked upon the strangers. “The realm of Aurum honors those who serve its light,” he said. “These are gifts of gratitude for saving my daughter.”

  The medallions were placed before them — each carved with precision, gleaming faintly in the afternoon sun. They were more than tokens; in Aurum, they signified noble standing, the right to protection, and access to the royal court.

  The wooden boxes were set down next: gold coins, jewels, and fine ornaments. But it was the third gift that drew every gaze. Princess Sophia stepped forward, holding a small sword of gold, its hilt inlaid with a single white gem. She walked toward Finn, her eyes bright with quiet wonder.

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  “It is my honor to give this,” Sophia said, her voice soft but trembling slightly. “You saved my life.”

  Finn rose awkwardly. He wanted to bow properly but didn’t know how, so he half-bent and muttered, “Thank you… Your Highness,” in his modern accent.

  King Sargon tilted his head slightly at the strange tone of the boy’s speech. As he studied Finn, something in his eyes shifted — curiosity, almost unease. The faint glimmer in the boy’s irises reminded him of something old, something whispered in stories about druids and lost worlds.

  “Druid’s blood,” Sargon murmured inwardly, masking his thought behind a faint smile. “It stirs again, after all this time.”

  Sophia lifted the sword slightly, and Finn reached to take it. For a heartbeat, their hands brushed — her skin cool and delicate, his warm and unsure. Their eyes met, and Finn felt his pulse quicken. She was breathtaking, her ash-brown hair tied back, her complexion fair with the blush of life newly returned. Everything about her radiated quiet grace.

  But as he held the sword, a sharp ache struck his chest. He remembered Katherine — her courage, her tears, her hand holding his as he fought to stay alive. Why does her smile still feel farther away now? he thought. Guilt pressed against his ribs, invisible but heavy.

  Katherine saw the moment between him and the Princess. She lowered her gaze, her heart twisting. Next to Sophia, she felt plain — not because of beauty, but because of her place. She was the girl from another world, out of her depth in a court of gold. She tried to hide the sting behind a polite nod, but inside, something quietly broke.

  Prince William noticed her silence. He stepped forward and smiled warmly. “Would you care to walk around the castle, Lady Katherine? The gardens are beautiful this time of year.”

  Finn’s jaw tightened before he could stop himself. He said nothing, but his eyes darted to Katherine’s face — she was blushing, unsure, her hands clasped together. William’s offer was kind, yet Finn felt a sting of rivalry he didn’t fully understand.

  The King, satisfied with the exchange, nodded. “May the blessings of Aurum guide your paths,” he said, his voice regal and final. Then he turned and left with his retinue. As he passed through the door, his gaze lingered once more on Finn — as though memorizing him.

  When the hall quieted, William added, “I shall return tomorrow. Perhaps by then, you’ll have your answer.” He bowed lightly to Katherine and left with the Princess.

  But before she exited, Sophia paused. She turned back to Finn, her cheeks faintly flushed. Taking both his hands gently, she said, “So… it is your blood that saved me.” Her voice was small, tender. “Would you come for tea this afternoon? I want to thank you… properly.”

  She smiled, eyes bright but shy, and before Finn could answer, she hurried away — her laughter echoing softly down the corridor.

  The door closed. The silence that followed felt thick.

  Katherine stood still for a long moment, then turned wordlessly and left for her chamber. Finn watched her go, his chest tight, unsure what to say or even what he felt. For the first time, she felt that Finn was being written into a story that no longer had room for her.

  Maxi, sitting in his chair, sighed and leaned back. “You know,” he muttered, “back home, we were just worried about exams and rent. Now we’ve got kings, princesses, and curses.” He looked at Finn and smirked faintly. “You’re either the luckiest guy I know or the dumbest.”

  Finn managed a smile, though his eyes stayed on the empty doorway.

  Maxi’s tone softened. “Whatever happens, bro… don’t lose yourself. Not here.” He looked toward the window, where sunlight spilled over the white towers of Aurum. “Maybe fate didn’t bring us here to find a way back… but to find out who we really are.”

  The room fell silent again, the weight of destiny settling over them like dust on golden light.