The first thing Angelo noticed about Valoria Palace was that it was too quiet.
Not silent.
There were guards at the entrance, staff moving through the corridors and the occasional sound of footsteps on polished stone.
But it was quiet in the way places became quiet when everyone inside understood that they were expected to behave with restraint.
Angelo followed the Valorian official through the entrance hall.
He had spent most of his life in military compounds.
He was accustomed to concrete buildings, functional furniture and walls that existed because someone had decided they were necessary.
This was different.
The ceiling seemed impossibly high.
Paintings covered the walls.
Large windows overlooked carefully maintained gardens.
Everywhere he looked, there were reminders that generations of people had lived inside these walls.
Angelo tried not to stare.
He failed.
The official noticed.
"You can look."
Angelo glanced at him.
"I am looking."
"You're trying not to."
Angelo smiled.
"It's different from home."
"I imagine so."
They continued down the corridor.
Angelo adjusted his jacket.
He had been given instructions about protocol before leaving Sanjara.
Stand when the King enters.
Address him formally.
Do not speak unless invited during formal introductions.
No unnecessary familiarity.
Simple enough.
Military discipline had prepared him for hierarchy.
Royal protocol was simply a different kind.
At least, that was what he told himself.
They reached a set of double doors.
The official stopped.
"His Majesty is waiting."
Angelo nodded.
His heartbeat increased slightly.
Not from fear.
Anticipation.
The doors opened.
King Adrian stood near the fireplace.
He looked older than Angelo remembered.
Not weaker.
Older.
The injury from the attack had left no obvious sign, but Angelo immediately noticed the slight stiffness in the King's movement.
Beside him stood the Queen.
Angelo stopped several paces away.
The official announced him.
"Your Majesty, Second Lieutenant Angelo Sanchez of the Republic of Sanjara."
Angelo stood straight.
"Your Majesty."
The King smiled.
"Lieutenant Sanchez."
Angelo looked up.
There was amusement in the King's eyes.
"You've been promoted."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Congratulations."
"Thank you."
The King walked toward him.
Angelo remained still until the King extended his hand.
They shook.
The King's grip was surprisingly strong.
"I was beginning to think you might arrive as a captain."
Angelo smiled.
"I hope not, Your Majesty. I haven't had time to learn how to be a lieutenant yet."
The Queen laughed.
The King looked pleased.
"Good."
Angelo glanced toward her.
The Queen stepped forward.
"Lieutenant Sanchez."
"Your Majesty."
She offered her hand.
Angelo took it.
"Thank you."
Angelo nodded.
"You're welcome."
The Queen looked at him for a moment.
"You really didn't know who we were."
"No, Your Majesty."
"And you still intervened."
"Yes."
"Why?"
Angelo seemed genuinely puzzled by the question.
"You were being robbed."
The Queen smiled.
"Yes."
Angelo looked between them.
"That's what soldiers are supposed to do."
The King exchanged a glance with his wife.
Angelo noticed it.
He wasn't sure what it meant.
A few minutes later they were seated in one of the smaller reception rooms.
There were no diplomats.
No reporters.
No ceremony.
Just four people.
Angelo found that strangely reassuring.
The King sat opposite him.
"I owe you an apology."
Angelo looked surprised.
"For what?"
"For allowing you to believe that Daniel was my name."
Angelo smiled.
"I suspected it wasn't."
The King laughed.
"Did you?"
"The clothes."
The Queen smiled.
"The clothes?"
"You didn't look like someone who normally travelled without security."
The King leaned back.
"You noticed."
"It's part of my job."
The King nodded slowly.
"I see."
There was a comfortable silence.
Then the King became serious.
"Lieutenant Sanchez, my wife and I wanted you here because we wanted to thank you personally."
Angelo nodded.
"You don't owe me anything."
"Perhaps not."
The King looked at him.
"But gratitude isn't a debt."
That answer caught Angelo off guard.
The King continued.
"You acted without knowing who we were. That matters."
Angelo looked down briefly.
"I was doing my job."
"I know."
The King smiled.
"That is precisely what impressed me."
The door opened.
Angelo turned.
A young woman entered.
She was wearing a simple dark dress.
No crown.
No elaborate jewellery.
No entourage.
She stopped when she saw him.
For a moment, neither spoke.
The King smiled.
"Ah."
The woman looked at her father.
"You didn't tell me he was already here."
"I thought you knew."
"I didn't."
The Queen stood.
"Angelo, this is my daughter."
Angelo stood as well.
The woman looked directly at him.
"This is Princess Elena."
Angelo's expression changed almost imperceptibly.
He had known he would eventually meet her.
He simply hadn't expected it to happen like this.
He bowed his head.
"Your Royal Highness."
Elena smiled.
"Please."
Angelo waited.
She extended her hand.
"Just Elena."
Angelo hesitated for half a second before taking it.
"Angelo."
Her smile widened.
"I know."
He released her hand.
The King watched them quietly.
Neither Elena nor Angelo noticed the look that passed between the King and Queen.
There was no instant spark.
No sudden realization.
No sense that their lives had just changed.
There was only curiosity.
A soldier meeting a princess.
A princess meeting the soldier who had saved her parents.
Two strangers standing on opposite sides of a world neither fully understood.
Elena gestured toward the chair.
"May I?"
Angelo nodded.
"Of course."
She sat.
"So," she said, "you're the soldier who apparently refuses to accept that he's done anything extraordinary."
Angelo looked at her.
"I don't think I have."
Elena smiled.
"My father disagrees."
Angelo glanced toward the King.
"With respect, Your Majesty seems to disagree with a lot of things."
The King laughed.
Elena looked surprised.
Then she laughed too.
For the first time since entering the palace, Angelo relaxed.
And for the first time, Elena began to understand why her father had been so impressed by him.